by M. S. Parker
Rosa assured me that my usual work outfit would be fine for the private party in Astoria’s fancy penthouse suite. The guys hadn't requested any sort of specific costume. That, at least, was good. I couldn't imagine what I'd do if they'd wanted me to be some kind of biker chick or naughty nurse.
A handsome guy with sandy-colored hair answered the door to the penthouse suite. He gave us each a quick once over and I could see that he was wondering why we weren't wearing something slutty.
“You got a bedroom where we can change?” Rosa asked.
“This way.” The man gestured for us to follow him.
As we walked through the enormous suite, I heard laughter coming from the main sitting area, but we didn't go that way, instead heading for another hallway that kept us from getting a glimpse of the men we'd be entertaining. That was fine with me. I didn't particularly want to see them yet anyway.
The guy left us alone to get ready. While we took off our street clothes and changed into our costumes from work, Rosa explained how things were going to go. We'd do a shortened number of the club's opening routine, both of us wearing our masks, and then I'd step back to let her do hers. Once she was finished, it'd be my turn.
“The thing you have to remember,” she said as she adjusted her breasts. “Is that while you're here to entertain everyone, the opening dances are for the groom. We do our routines and focus on him. Once we're done, we take a couple minutes, then head back out to dance. Not routines, but actually dance with the guys. Depending on how friendly you get, that's when the tips start flowing.”
I nodded and tried to pretend I wasn't nervous as hell. Someone knocked on the door and a man's voice asked if we were ready. Rosa opened the door to the same sandy-haired guy who'd let us into the suite and we followed him back down the hallway and into the main sitting room. It was huge, with glass walls along the far side, high ceilings and carpet so thick it was going to make dancing in heels dangerous.
I didn't have much time for details though as the music was starting, which was our cue to move. The first dance went smoothly, though I was concentrating more on not falling than I was on paying attention to the men cat-calling, and then I stepped back to let Rosa take center stage. I watched her as she zeroed in. I followed her gaze.
A handsome man with unruly dark curls was laughing and leering, clapping another man on the shoulder; a man who Rosa was clearly focusing on. That, I decided, must be the groom. I shifted as Rosa moved and saw the groom's face for the first time.
My heart almost stopped.
Reed.
What the fuck?
It had been less than a month since he and I had slept together, and now he was getting married?
My hand went to the mask on my face. The opening dance had all of the girls in disguises and the first thing we did when we went on for our individual sets was to toss the mask aside, letting the men see our faces for the first time. Did that mean he hadn't yet recognized me or had he found out my secret and called The Diamond Club on purpose? Even as I thought it, I realized it was ridiculous. The groom didn't plan his own bachelor party. This was just some very bizarre coincidence. One that was about to get even more awkward.
Before I was ready, Rosa's music ended and it was my turn. I knew I had a choice to make. I could either walk out and probably lose my job or I could do what I came here to do and damn the repercussions. I lifted my chin. I hadn't done anything wrong. Either Reed had met, dated and proposed to someone in a very short period of time or he'd fucked me when he'd been engaged. I hadn't known. I had nothing to be ashamed of.
I walked toward the center of the room, facing the couch, and pulled off my mask, tossing it aside.
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened, but I didn't acknowledge him. Instead, I did what I'd been paid to do, although I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact. When I finished, I flashed a fake smile at the whistling and cheering men, then grabbed my shirt from the floor and put it back on. The rest of our dancing could be done half-clothed, as long as we were showing more flesh than we were hiding and we were willing to take the clothes off again. I buttoned the middle two buttons as Rosa told the men she and I were going to take a couple minutes to freshen up. She promised them we'd be back.
She went back to the bedroom we'd come from, but I went in the opposite direction, not wanting to explain to her why I was freaking out. A party in a penthouse suite at the priciest hotel in the city had some advantages, there were several bathrooms to choose from.
I splashed cold water on my face, keeping my eyes closed even after I dried my face.
“Piper?”
My hands flexed on the sink and I looked up, making eye contact with him through the mirror.
“Fancy meeting you here.” The words came out more snidely than I'd intended, but I didn't apologize. He didn't deserve it.
“I can explain.” He took a step into the bathroom, then stopped.
I saw the hesitation on his face, but I didn't do anything to help him. I made my voice as flat as possible. “You don't need to. There weren't any expectations. We both knew that. We don't owe each other anything.”
My heart twisted at my words and I knew I'd let myself care too much. If I'd never seen him again, I could've handled that. I could've cherished our time together. Instead, every moment of that night was tainted now by the knowledge that he'd used me to cheat on his fiancée. He wasn't the good guy I remembered from school. I didn't tell him any of that though. I just brushed past him, ignoring the way my stomach clenched at the scent of his aftershave.
“I have to work.”
For once, I welcomed the pounding, pulsing music and let it take over. I spotted Rosa already grinding on one of the men and I made my way over to her side. In two years, I'd gotten very comfortable dancing with women when we were both half-clothed. I didn't have any sexual attraction to women, but I could dance like I did without getting overly friendly. Some of the women made out – or did more for all I knew – but I wouldn't have to worry about that with Rosa. She'd never cross that line. She let me set how far things went.
The two of us danced with each other and with the men, fending off wandering hands with flirtatious laughs that sounded hollow in my ears. Normally, I would've just been the responder, but the anger simmering inside me pushed me further than I usually went. I let hands linger longer than usual, sometimes pressing into them as they brushed against my breast.
I tried to ignore Reed, maneuvering Rosa so that she was always closer to him, but I could feel his eyes on me no matter where I moved. The other men were watching me too, eyes glued to the places where the shirt lifted and parted, giving them all an eyeful of what they'd paid to see. That wasn't where Reed was looking, however. The one time I permitted myself a glance, I found his eyes searching for mine. I was wearing only a partially-buttoned, practically see through white shirt and he was looking at my eyes.
I turned to Rosa and began dancing with her, needing something else to distract me. I saw surprise flit across her face and then she was all business. She let me lead, mirroring my movements so that when I ran my fingers down her arm and then looped her arm around my neck, she did the same. I let our bodies close in until we were practically grinding against each other.
I could see the tip bucket we'd set out filling up as Rosa and I danced, but I didn't care as much about that as I did about pissing Reed off. As one song changed into the next, Rosa and I broke apart and moved back to dancing with the other men. I saw her trying to get Reed up and moving, but he just glared until she went back to the sandy-haired man we'd met first. I kept myself surrounded by a few different men, letting them press their bodies against mine until I could feel their arousal. A part of me was yelling at myself to stop, that I was going too far, but I didn't care. I wanted Reed to see that he wasn't the only one who wanted me, desired me. I wasn't some desperate street trash from the wrong side of the tracks who'd fuck anyone who gave me a kind word.
Before I could get mysel
f into real trouble to prove something to Reed, Rosa leaned over and told me one of the groomsmen was going to give her something extra for an exclusive dance. I nodded and said I just needed a couple minutes to get some air, then I'd be back and she could go... dance. She jerked her chin towards the balcony and then turned her attention back to a handsome blond.
I stepped outside, breathing in the cool night air. It was the perfect temperature, warm enough that I wasn't cold, but still refreshing. I leaned against the railing, closing my eyes and enjoying the breeze. I didn't have more than a few minutes of peace before I heard voices. I opened my eyes and saw a couple on the balcony next to me looking my way. I looked down and straightened, realizing the way I'd been standing had caused my shirt to ride up. I was essentially flashing anyone who happened to look. At least in Vegas, the chances being arrested for indecent exposure were slim. I sighed as I took a step back. I needed to go back inside.
I heard the door slide open behind me and I froze, hoping it wasn't Reed again.
“Thirsty?” It was a man's voice, but not one I recognized.
I half-turned and saw the dark-haired man from earlier holding out a bottle of water. He had a handsome face, though more rough and chiseled than Reed's, and his eyes were light, a pale blue color that was almost gray.
“I'm Brock, by the way.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully, but none of them were slurring so he couldn't have been that drunk.
“Thanks.” I took the bottle. Rule number one of stripping: never accept a drink in a glass from a stranger. Bottles, however, were fair game. I opened it and took a drink. I hadn't realized how thirsty I'd been.
“I've been to The Diamond Club quite a few times and that's why I requested Rosa, but I've never seen you there.” He took a step toward me. “Why's that?”
“I just started,” I confessed. “Not dancing in general, but at the club. Before that, I was somewhere else.”
He reached out and brushed his fingers over my arm. “How do you feel about a private lap dance?” His eyes left no doubt as to what he was actually asking for. “I pay very well.”
I started to take a step back but a wave of dizziness washed over me and I staggered. Brock caught my arm and I heard him say something, but I couldn't make it out. The edges of my vision started to go gray and the ground rushed up to meet me.
Chapter 7
A hand inside my shirt groped my breast.
My legs pushed apart.
A hand over my mouth.
Shouting.
Someone's arms around me.
A strange rocking movement.
Darkness.
It was still dark when I opened my eyes later. I wasn't sure how much time had passed or where I was. All I could tell was that I was in a bed I didn't know and someone was sitting next to me.
“Hello?” The word sounded fuzzy, blunted, and my tongue felt too thick.
“Shh. It's okay.”
Reed.
His hands covered mine. “You drank too much and passed out. Go back to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning.”
I wanted to tell him I hadn't drank anything but water, but the darkness was calling again and I couldn't refuse it. As I slipped under, I thought I felt arms wrapping around me, holding me, but I knew that was just a dream because the sensation of being held melted into a half-memory, half-dream of a childhood trip to the zoo.
When I woke up, this time I knew I'd been asleep for hours. The sun was peeking in through the gap in the curtains and it was morning. My head hurt and when I tried to remember why I was in a strange bed wearing only a half-buttoned shirt, I drew a blank. I looked around, trying to find some clue as to what had happened.
A soft knock at the door made me grab the blankets and pull them over me. I almost laughed, considering whoever's room this was had already seen me naked, but I still kept the blankets where they were.
“Breakfast's here.” Reed stuck his head into the room.
I stared at him, wracking my brain and trying to figure out why I was in his room. We hadn't... again, had we?
“Piper?” He sounded concerned.
“What?” I snapped more sharply than I'd intended.
“I ordered room service.”
He didn't seem perturbed by how I'd spoken to him, but I could see a hint of something in his eyes, something I might've thought was sadness. The idea that he might be sad about me being rude to him annoyed me enough that I no longer cared that I wasn't wearing much. He had no right to act as if I'd hurt him, not after what he'd used me to do.
Without being invited, he stepped further into the room, carrying a tray loaded with breakfast. Toast, butter, strawberries, syrup, pancakes and whipped cream. That was a lot of food. Far more than I'd ever eat, even if I'd had an appetite.
“I have to go,” I said, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. “My roommate will be worried about me.”
“If your roommate is the girl you were dancing with last night, she isn't looking for you.” Reed sat on the edge of the bed. “She's in Danny's room.”
Oh. I sat back and eyed the food, feeling foolish. My stomach growled, betraying me. Okay, maybe I was hungry. I took a piece of toast, avoiding his gaze as I took a bite. I didn't just want to look at him. I wanted to demand an explanation, demand he tell me why he'd done that to me. If he'd just wanted to get laid, he could've fucked anyone else at that reunion. Why did it have to be me?
I could feel his eyes on me as I ate, but I refused to raise my head. I didn't want him to see how bothered I really was by what had happened. But then he spoke and I had to look up.
“Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
My eyes narrowed as I looked at him. What was he playing at? “No thank you.” I kept my voice cold and even.
“Look, it's my way for apologizing for what happened last night.”
Now I was just confused. “What are you talking about?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, an embarrassed expression on his face. “You don't remember?”
I shook my head.
“I came out on the balcony to make sure you were okay and found my future brother-in-law pawing at you.” He shook his head. “You were passed out and Brock was drunk – not that it excuses him. I told him to go sleep it off and then brought you back here.”
I frowned. “The last thing I remember is going out for some air.” I was also pretty sure I hadn't had anything to drink, but that route had implications I didn't want to deal with, especially since nothing had really happened.
“Well, I feel bad about what happened, even if you don't remember it,” Reed said. “Let me at least take you to dinner and make it up to you.”
I was torn. On one hand, I wanted to tell him to fuck off. I wanted to believe he’d lied to me, he’d used me and that he’d walked away as if it was no big deal.
Then there was the logical part of me that reminded me of the practically empty cupboards back at the apartment and the ten packets of ramen noodles Rosa and I had eaten as our main meal this past week. If I went with him, I could get a real meal, the biggest they offered, and the leftovers would keep us for a day or two. Rosa wouldn't have even hesitated.
Still, there was a part of me that knew the truth. I wasn't thinking about agreeing for those reasons. I wanted to go to dinner with him because I enjoyed his company. That night back home hadn't just been about sex. I'd felt comfortable with him in a way I'd never felt with a guy before. The talking had come easy and even the silence had been comfortable. It was nearly impossible to find someone to talk to, to be quiet with and who could do such amazing things in bed. Women would kill for a guy like Reed, even if for only one night. Was I really willing to give up at least a couple hours of someone to talk to just because I was pissed at him?
“All right,” I agreed.
He smiled. “Great! What time should I pick you up and where?”
I held up a hand, silencing him. That was sounding way too much like a date, and I n
eeded to nip that in the bud. “How about we meet for dinner?”
“Oh. Okay.”
I wasn't sure if it was my imagination or if he really sounded disappointed, but I wasn't going to think about it. Instead, I asked, “Where are we meeting?”
“Alizé.”
I blinked. Alizé was one of Chef André Rochat's restaurants. It served the best French food in the city, had a huge wine selection and offered the most spectacular view from atop the Palms Casino Resort. Or so I'd heard.
“You already have reservations?”
Reed gave me a sheepish grin as he shook his head. “I know people.”
Of course he did. Well, I definitely wasn't going to turn down that. I was just glad I still had my dress from the reunion. I didn't have anything else that would even come close to being appropriate for a place like that. I tried not to let myself be disappointed at not having one Reed hadn't seen before. That wasn't the point.
“So I'll see you there at eight?”
I nodded as I shoved the last bite of toast into my mouth and climbed out of the bed. I needed to find my clothes, get Rosa and get us home. Being around Reed was more confusing than I liked. I needed some distance if I was going to be able to go through with dinner.
Chapter 8
The appreciative look Reed gave me when I got out of the taxi said he didn't mind that I was wearing the same thing I'd worn to the reunion. In fact, if the heat in his gaze was any indication, he was remembering what it had been like watching me take it off. I wondered if he realized now that I'd been using some of my work skills that night.
“Thank you for agreeing to have dinner with me,” he said as he held out his arm. Despite what I'd seen in his eyes, his actions and tone were completely platonic.
I let my arm hook around his and we walked towards the entrance. I could feel the muscles in his arm through the material of his jacket and wondered if he was as aware of me as I was of him. I pressed my lips together and made myself think of other things. I couldn't think of him in a romantic way, not now that I knew he was getting married. My father had cheated on my mother for years and walked out as soon as she'd told him she was pregnant. It was one thing to know there were married men ogling me at the strip club, and something else entirely to entertain sexual thoughts about one I knew was married, or at least partway there.
