Chapter 18

18

GWEN

A s I stepped into Johanna's Gentleman's Club, the pounding bass and colorful neon lights assaulted my senses. The men here were a far cry from the usual rowdy crowd back home - they exuded wealth and sophistication, their designer suits and expensive cologne marking them as successful businessmen. And then there were the women – not just strippers, but skilled contortionists who twisted and turned their bodies in seductive poses for the mostly male audience, with a few women scattered throughout. It's clear that everyone here has money to spare, unlike me with my mountain of debt to Mason.

I couldn't help but feel envious of their easy access to money, knowing that any one of these patrons could easily wipe away my debt to Mason with a flick of their wrist. But as I make my way through the club, I couldn't help but feel a set of eyes on me. I walk through the side doors to the back where the manager's office is and Oscar, the manager, is staring at me with an impatient glint in his eye. "You're twenty minutes late. "

I give him a sheepish smile and shrug slightly. "I'm not from New York. I didn't know a twenty minute train ride really meant forty." Oscar rolls his eyes at me walking ahead of me and I jog to keep up with him. My belly rolls and I curse Taylor under my breath because only he would send me to work four drinks in and full of Korean fried chicken when he knew I'd be dancing around a pole tonight. The thought of all the food I just ate coming up in spades makes my body lurch as if I am seconds from throwing up, but I swallow it down. Do not throw up on your first night, Gwen.

"Okay so you will be working the floor tonight unless someone personally asks for a private dance," Oscar says opening the door to a huge dressing area complete with private rooms and a huge gust of Victoria Secret perfume invading my nostrils.

"By private dance, you just mean dance, right?" I question, following after Oscar as he slides between two topless girls, not even sparing them a second glance.

"This is not a prostitution ring," he responds in a bored tone. "If you want to fuck a patron, do it after hours during your own time. Here is your locker." He points to a dark pink locker with my name scripted on the front in a sparkly gold print. "Inside, you will find your uniform. At the end of the night, put it in the black hamper over there and it will be cleaned by your next shift. Any questions?"

Before I can respond, a voice pipes up from behind me, "Don't worry Oscar! I got her."

Oscar lets out a quiet "thank god" as he hurries out the door, leaving me face to face with a brown-skinned girl. She has a large puff of hair on her head, artfully styled with swooped baby hairs around the edges. She's wearing a red satin bodysuit with a built-in corset, and looks just like Betty Boop. "Hey there, I'm Kimberly. You can call me Kim. Go try on the outfit and I'll give you a tour when you're ready."

I nod and grab my outfit out of my locker, and go into a small private changing area, sliding the curtain closed behind me. Once inside, I strip and start dressing in the gorgeous uniform. I carefully slide on fishnet stockings that sparkle in the light, followed by a vibrant emerald green satin corset bodysuit that embraces every inch of my curves, accentuating my figure in all the right places. Lastly, I slip into sleek black kitten heels, adorned with glittering jewels. I slide open the curtain of the changing area. With each confident stride, my hips sway and cause my ample bosom to peek out from the top of the suit.

I take a deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room. Kim is waiting for me, a smile on her face as she looks me up and down.

"Wow, you look amazing!" she exclaims. "That outfit was made for you."

I do a little turn at her compliment and smile. The outfit itself seems way more classy than my green two piece I wore at my old gig; this outfit screams class and had a lot of sass. "Thanks, but I totally think this outfit was made for you. You look like Betty Boop." I point to her outfit and she pokes her left hip out and places her hands on her hip.

"Girl, I like you." She laughs, reaching her hand out to drag me in closer to her.

"Alright, think of me as your Johanna's study guide. I have been here the longest and I know the most about everything," Kim says, leading me out the side doors to the main area of the club .

A high pitch whistle rings out from the bar, and Hudson yells over the music, "Looking sexy, ladies!"

Kim smirks, smacking her ass. "Don't I know it!" She leans back in whispering to me, "I'm assuming you met Hudson, sweet as pie with a huge dong."

I giggle. "No way!"

"Girl, I've seen it and used it." Kim stretches her back from side to side. "It almost put me in the hospital." She points to the main stage where a blonde-haired girl swings around the pole in slow motion in a hook spin, waving to the patrons before flipping down. "That is the main stage." She points to a hallway lit up in purple lights. "Those are the VIP rooms if someone requests you for a private dance, and that up there," she points to a large glass room that gleams blue, "That is where the big boss sits. He is one fine man, and one good time to party with if you find him on a low-key night. Most of the girls are scared of him, with good reason, but I've known him for eight years. He's a little shit but he is a good person."

I stare up at the glass office, the strange feeling of someone making direct eye contact creeping up my body. I keep staring up until I hear Kim laugh in my ear, "You can't see him, silly. One-way glass." She turns me around towards the bar. "Your job while you are on the floor is to look good and entertain the masses." Kim waves to a patron and smiles at me, her pearly white teeth on display.

"Hey, Kimmy baby," a light skinned man with sparkling brown eyes walks up. Kim immediately cuddles up to him against the bar and he wraps an arm around her waist.

"Hiya, handsome. Gwen, I'll talk to you later." The man scoops Kim closer to him and Kim disappears into the shadows with her new companion. I turn my attention back to the pulsating energy of the club. The thumping bass shakes my chest as I survey the crowded club. My body moves to the rhythm without conscious thought, my eyes scan the room until they lock onto a figure approaching me from the dance floor. The guy is tall and lean, with dark hair that falls messily over his forehead, and he moves towards me with smooth, confident steps, his piercing brown eyes never leaving mine as they peer into my very soul. I shift my weight, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing out my lips into a sly smirk.

"What are you drinking?" the man says, sliding up next to me at the bar. I laugh a little to myself, because this guy does a classic move that shows not only is he in control, but that he has been watching me.

"I wasn't drinking, but I'll have a rum and coke." I lean my head to catch the light shining in his caramel eyes, and he chuckles, running his tongue across his lower jaw. He signals for the other bartender to come over and orders my drink along with his own, a Pina Colada.

"Seriously?" I chuckle, but the sound comes out sharp as I can feel the eyes on me from Boss's quarters again, almost narrowing in on me, constricting my reactions. I clear my throat and lean my hip against the bar as the bartender slides my drink into my hand.

"Have you never had one?" he teases, his eyebrows wiggling at me. "I can order you one."

I bite my straw before wrapping my lips around and taking a quick sip. He watches my every move, even when I pull my lips away to respond. "Of course. I was just expecting whiskey."

The guy coughs, shaking his head no as he reaches for the Pina Colada and slides a fifty dollar bill across the bar. "Oh hell no. I don' t like to drink gasoline."

"Oh, I never said it tasted good, just that is what I expected." I turn back away, and he leans his butt against the bar with me, pointing to a man who looks like the human version of Scrooge Mcduck. "See, that dude is a multi-billionaire, and he is into tickling."

I snort, my drink dripping slightly from the corners of my mouth. "No fucking way."

"Oh yea," he exclaims, pointing to a man with copper hair, "And he is a huge Wall Street mogul who likes to be degraded."

"Oh, I can totally see that." I shrug. "Rich and powerful man wants one part of his life he does not control."

"So you can believe that, but not that I would drink a Pina Colada?" He laughs.

"Sorry, the weirdest thing here is the Pina Colada," I tease, knocking him in the hip.

He leans forward, his mouth grazing my ear. "Is it as weird as me asking you for a private dance?"

A sly grin spreads across my lips as I notice his clever maneuver, and I nod in agreement. "I see what you did there, but yeah, let's go." Our hands intertwine, and I can't help but look up to the office windows above, my skin feeling as if it's on fire, and this is my last warning before I get my punishment. As we approach the private dance room, my skin prickles with anticipation to be alone with a guy who would probably make me laugh more than wet, and I appreciate that for my first lap dance. I confidently make my way through the bustling crowd, following the trail of purple lights that lead to the secluded private dance rooms. The air is thick with the scent of perfume and sweat, a heady combination that fuels the energy of the room.

I pull the guy forward when a bodyguard stops me a stern look in his eye as he pushes in his headpiece, listening in closely to the message coming through the piece. The bodyguard shakes his head no at us. "You can't come in here with this patron."

"Excuse me? I am a dancer here and he asked me for a private dance," I huff, trying to push past the guard.

"You have already been booked, Ms. Sharp." He nods toward someone behind me, and I let go of the patron's hand.

Taking a step back, I look up at the other bodyguard coming up behind me. "A VIP upstairs."

I nod, shooting the Pina Colada guy a sympathetic smile as I follow the bodyguard's lead, my heart pounding in my chest as we make our way up the stairs to the glass office overlooking the dance floor. The echoes of music grow fainter as we ascend, replaced by the muffled sounds of conversation and laughter from below. My palms grow clammy and I wipe them against my thighs. I can't help but wonder who this VIP could be who has been watching me all night. The pit of my stomach twists as I think this could be the eyes I have been drawn to all evening. The irises that seem to be magnets to my own.

As we reach the top of the stairs, a sleek wooden door stands before us, guarded by another imposing figure. The bodyguard nods at him, and without a word, the door swings open to reveal a lavish private room bathed in soft, colored lights that dance across the walls. There is velvet across the mini-stage and the room is circular, so that there is nowhere for the dancer to hide .

Inside, sitting on a plush leather couch, is a figure shrouded in shadows. My breath catches in my throat as I step into the room, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting. The VIP's features slowly come into focus—a sharp jawline, piercing eyes, and a predatory smile that sends shivers down my spine, but I steel myself. I pull my shoulders back and swish my hips in a slow seductive way that could have someone mistaking my walk for me swimming through molasses. I step up the stairs to the main stage, arching my hips away as I grab the pole and stretch. I then spin around, my back arching off the pole as I stare at the figure, eclipsed by the shadows, and slide down the pole slowly. I give him my best pouty face as I say, "You know you are my first dance in a while."

"Is that so?" I pause my descent, the cheshire like tone to his gravelly voice purred against my skin, reminding me of the rumbling voice of Nikolai as he nuzzled my neck in before demanding we fuck again. I stand up, lazily walking around the pole as I caress the curve of my body.

"Yup, I took a little hiatus." I smile, jumping in the air as I hook both knees around the pole. "So excuse me if I am a little rusty.

The figure lets out a low laugh as he adjusts himself to lean back, deeper into the darkness. I continue my dance, as the figure in the shadows watches me intently. His eyes follow every movement, every twist and turn of my body as I loop and swing with grace around the pole. He groans when I slide down slowly into a split and shake my ass a little and I lean in forward towards him. "You don't seem out of practice to me," he comments.

"Well, let's just say I love to be watched." I wink, flipping myself up and wiggling my ass as I roll up, flipping my hair back dramatically .

My body twists and contorts around the pole, my eyes locked on the shadowy figure watching me. A shiver runs through me as a flicker of recognition ignites in my mind. It's him - Nikolai, with his unmistakable presence branded onto my consciousness. My muscles tense as I stare at him, staring lazily at me from the shadows. He leans in just so I get only half of his face in the light. He licks his lips with hooded eyes as he purrs, "Dance for me, Kotik."