CHAPTER 42 #2
The funds will provide clothing, hygiene products for the women and children, plus small comfort items for the kids who get displaced for a period of time when child services are called in.
Ultimately, we plan to hold two events to raise money due to the excitement and varying opinions about what we should do.
The idea of dancing for charity lifts everyone’s spirits, and with Easter just around the corner, we combine the holiday with a special event theme night.
There’s an increased charge at the door, items clients can purchase, and additional dancer perks.
Extras cost extra. Naughty Bunny Night is the name Raven decides on, and she takes on the marketing and promotion with a focus on pulling in a higher-end crowd.
Our outfits—Playboy bunny costumes, vary in color, come with a bunny half mask that has long ears, and sparkle with crystals.
Mine is lavender, and I pair it with a matching bow tie, dangly earrings, and sky-high platform shoes that are encrusted with iridescent rhinestones on the heel and wedge, and feature a clear upper toe and ankle strap.
Raven even dresses up for the event in an entirely black Playboy bunny suit with more modest heels.
The most memorable moment is when Goose walks out of his office and nearly collides with me in the hallway. He opens his mouth twice to say something and ends up rubbing his hand over his mouth, shaking his head, and raking his hand through his hair.
“Good talk.” I pat his shoulder twice and then move past him to saunter down the hallway.
His response, “God help us all.”
I put a little extra swing in my steps and grin like a lunatic because I can feel his gaze follow me until I’m out of sight.
There’s some flirting and some heated looks from him throughout the night, but we keep it mostly professional, a lot like when we did when I started working at the club.
The only time he seems bothered is when other men touch me, like when Griz throws his arm around my shoulder and kisses my cheek, or when Stone tries to get me to go home with him at closing time.
Goose tries to hide his reaction, but it’s obvious he’s irritated by it. However, like before, he doesn’t voice his feelings.
The other highlight of the night is the high level of excitement and participation from the audience.
They join in to dance alongside us when Alex, our emcee, announces The Bunny Hop.
We start a conga line through the club, getting everyone to dance and hop to the beat.
The rabbit-themed music goes all night, and Alex continues to liven up the crowd with his enthusiasm, mixing his skills and song choices.
We rake in an obscene amount of money, more than double our goal, and the fact that we were able to connect with the audience in a way we hadn’t thought of before leaves us all energized for days.
Raven takes note of it and says she’s going to schedule more events like it throughout the year and see what other charities we might donate the money to.
I note that Goose stays, although he did disappear a number of times.
I don’t think anyone else sees the changes in him, but I do.
Being at the club takes a toll on him. His features pinch together as the night wears on.
He squints against the harsh lighting and even massages his temple on occasion, as if in pain.
When I lightly ask him about it, he brushes off my concern and puts up a mask of his own to act like he’s fine when he’s clearly not.
The second event we hold is in late April.
It’s a joint charity run and car wash we do with the HOCs, which is a sponsored bike ride followed by a raunchy bikini car wash that very nearly gets us all arrested.
The HOCS go all out for it. They plaster posters all over town, invite local businesses, and chapters from other areas.
A Washing at Wets is what we end up calling the car wash part of the event, and it takes place after the guys get back from their drive to Santa Fe.
It gets a little wild, and there’s backlash from the city, which means we have to put on tops to cover our assets. So the whole thing turns into a wet T-shirt affair.
But in the middle of all the chaos, Goose approaches me.
His head is down, and for a moment, he appears almost shy. “Hey.”
Having just sprayed Zora for throwing a soaped-up sponge at me, I continue to smile as I greet him. “Hey, yourself.”
“Would you do me the honor of washing my bike?” He’s reaching behind him for his wallet on its chain. He opens it and leafs through a few hundred-dollar bills and grabs a number of them.
“Of course.” He hands them to me. I’m not just taken aback by the amount of cash he places in my palm, but by the way his facial expression changes when I say yes. His eyebrow quirks and a sexy grin spreads across his mouth.
“Just you, if that’s all right.”
I bite my lip as I consider his request. The moment I do, his gaze locks on my mouth.
Then his gaze slowly rolls down from there, over my white, wet crop top, and jeans. The top itself is wet enough that the red bikini is obvious underneath. He palms the back of his neck and makes an unintelligible sound. “Damn, woman. Have some mercy on us poor mortal men, would ya.”
A full smile breaks across my face, and I sweep my wet hair back. “What would be the fun in that?”
He chuckles. “Too right. Well, in that case. I’ll just sit back and watch the show, yeah?”
I cock an eyebrow and pocket the cash. “And I’ll make sure you get your money’s worth.”
He nearly chokes at that and has to pound his chest. He laughs, though, and shakes his head as he walks away. There’s also a muttered, “Jesus, she’s gonna kill me.” Then he looks over his shoulder and says, “Give me a sec, and I’ll bring it to ya.”
He means the bike. But… I am currently eating up the sight of his ass in his worn jeans, and the cut that he fills out quite nicely.
While he’s gone, I fight to suppress the flood of arousal coursing through me, but it’s a losing battle.
Goose is not so subtle after he delivers his bike into my capable hands.
He watches from the sidelines as I take my time, thoroughly and with overly exaggerated movements, cleaning his bike. The entire time, I’m surrounded by music, laughter, and catcalls, but my world narrows in on this moment and the connection firing between us as I perform this service for him.
He leans against the corner of a buddy’s car with his arms propped behind him on the hood, his ankles crossed, and his intense stare follows my every move.
It feels intimate, dirty, and meaningful.
Even though I’m completely wet, my insides are on fire. The heat he’s throwing in his gaze is working wonders on my body, burning me up from the inside out.
We share some wicked smiles, and the gruff “thank you” he gives me after I finish includes a long, intense stare off, which sends my lady bits into a frenzy.
I spend hours that night trying and failing to relieve the ache with the toys in my bedside drawer. Nothing really satisfies the emptiness I feel or sates the desire for him that won’t abate.
The good news is that the money we raise is beyond anything we could have anticipated, and the shelter is both shocked and overjoyed by the donation. The paper even picked up the story and did a piece about it, which shed some positive light on the club.
Helping the families at the shelter, especially the ones who primarily focus on women, women like us who have experienced similar trauma to what girls like me and some of the other dancers have gone through, makes us all feel like we have the power in our own way to make a difference.
On a personal level, it gives me a rush I’ve never experienced before, and one I don’t want to come down from.
I begin to imagine what I might do in the future with my life that will make a difference when all my grand schemes finally come to an end and I’m able to move on from the Greenbacks, the 13Ds, and the HOCs.
The thought is both welcome and one that, for the first time, doesn’t feel like freedom, because the idea of leaving some of the friends behind that I made here doesn’t sit well with me.