Chapter 1 #2
The cougar looks like she’s going to protest for a second, but then she looks down at my abs and changes her mind.
Like I said, my genes are kind of assholes.
So long as I haul my ass to the gym a couple of times a week, I can still stay in shape.
By any rights, I should look like a slug.
But seeing as this is how I make my living, I can’t bring myself to feel guilty about it.
“Yeehaw!” the cougar cries, grabbing me by the wrist and tugging me inside the booth, making sure to close the curtain behind us. “Saddle up, cowboy!”
That reminds me to pull my hat up from where it’s resting on my shoulders.
It might not be much of a costume, but it at least gives me something of a persona to hide behind, like the world’s flimsiest armor.
Cowboy Jay can handle anything these gals throw at him.
Jesse doesn’t have to bring that crap home with him.
I quickly move over to the interactive sound system, picking a favorite tune in order to seduce my captive audience to.
So what if the ground is a little unstable under my feet or if it takes me a couple of attempts to jab the play icon?
Being drunk and high is the only way to get through what I’m sure is going to be quite the ordeal.
However, as I look over at all the singles the ladies have clutched eagerly in their manicured hands, I tell myself I can deal with whatever they’ve got in store for me.
It’s not just rent I have to cover tonight. I need enough to score some blow to pay TJ back. I might be many disappointing things, but a freeloader isn’t one of them.
“Let’s get this party started!” I yell as the beat drops. Thanks to the reasonably good insulation in these booths, our music mostly drowns out the noise from the main club area. But that does mean anything we say in here needs to be hollered if we want to be heard.
The group seems to catch my drift regardless. Cougar grabs an almost full bottle of Champagne from the ice bucket and raises it up as she screams. Her friends all lift their glasses and join in, like they’re in some kind of primal ritual.
I get the uneasy feeling that makes me the sacrificial lamb.
It’s also pretty obvious from their empty glasses that this party started way before I arrived.
Now, I’m the last person to judge anyone’s life choices or how they have fun.
There’s just a difference between people who are out for a good time and to let loose, and those who are trying to prove something, maybe even attempting to make themselves feel powerful for a night by making someone else feel small.
Sadly, I’m pretty sure I know which category Cougar falls into. But I know I can handle her a thousand times better than Fen would have been able to, and all I really care about is parting her from her money.
My mission helps focus my chemical-fueled brain.
I picked a popular song from back in the nineties that women of a certain generation tend to respond to.
Sure enough, by the chorus they’re singing along at the top of their lungs about how sexy they feel, throwing money all over the place.
It’s undignified, but once they leave, there’s a dustpan and brush hidden behind the sofa that I’ll retrieve so I can sweep up all my earnings.
Of course, these are just fake paper bills the club provides.
I have to turn them over in the back office, then once Jerry the accountant tallies it all up, he gives me back a percentage.
That’s why we all really appreciate customers who slip us actual twenties, fifties, or even hundreds. We’re supposed to declare all that as well, but no one ever does. It’s the only way any of us make ends meet most weeks.
According to the display screen, these ladies have only paid for another ten minutes.
That’s roughly three more songs, so I pick a sultry one next so I can really lean over them one at a time and roll my hips, getting them all hot and bothered.
Flustered, tipsy customers are generous customers, after all.
For the next track I give them some decent choreography (or at least I think it’s okay).
Then I get them all up to dance with me for the finale.
This is always a bit risky, as it encourages patrons to put their hands on me.
I don’t mind if they keep it PG-13, but I really should have known better with Cougar here in charge tonight.
After being hugged, stroked, pinched and poked for over three minutes, I’m very grateful when the song ends and the booth goes as quiet as it can with the other music blasting from in the main area.
“Okay, darlin’s!” I holler, keeping up my cowboy act. I step away and wave my hands at them. “That’s all we’ve got time for, I’m afraid. Y’all have a nice night!”
“What! No!” Cougar predictably pouts and grabs for my hips. “We’re having so much fun! I’ll pay for extra!”
I try not to grimace and do my best to twist out of her grip. “Aww, shucks. You’re too sweet, sugar. But I gotta hustle. You ladies can come watch me on stage! I’ll dance just for you.”
I wink, hoping to charm my way out of her hands. I really do have to go perform in a minute, but I’m not sorry to have an excuse to get myself out of here.
However, she digs in with her nails, and I can’t help but wince. “Mommy says STAY, baby boy. It’s mommy’s birth-dayyy.” Her friends are laughing as she pushes me against the wall and I’m too shocked to do anything but blink down at her. “ONE MORE SONG!” she yells in my face.
“Ma’am,” I say, trying to keep my cool. “Please stop. I’m sorry, but I gotta go and—”
I choke on my words as she thrusts her hand down my pants, scratching my stomach before wrapping her sweaty palm around my junk.
“What the FUCK!” I bellow, shoving her back on instinct. “Stop! Get off me!”
Unfortunately, I’m pretty strong and she’s wearing high heels.
I watch in horror for a second that lasts forever as her arms pinwheel, her eyes and mouth wide.
Her friends jump back as she crashes down into the coffee table.
The tall glasses fly in every direction, smashing into jagged pieces, while the ice bucket dumps freezing water and what’s left of the Champagne into Cougar’s lap.
There’s a beat where nobody moves.
Then Cougar bursts into tears.
Blood starts trickling from a few shallow cuts on her bare arms. Her top button has popped off, and mascara is quickly staining her cheeks.
“You pushed me!” she wails.
My senses finally come back to me. I hastily tuck my cock back into my shorts where she pulled it out, trying to maintain what’s left of my pride. “You assaulted me!” I fire back indignantly.
But she’d still sobbing as her friends rush to help pick her up. “It’s my birthday! You were supposed to look after me! I paid for you!”
“You actually paid for Fen,” I snap at her. “And I had to rescue him from you doing exactly what you just did to me. No means no!”
“You didn’t say no!” she spits at me, her wet eyes blazing.
“I told you to stop,” I say, jabbing a finger at her face, my chest heaving. “Twice.”
She bats my hand angrily away. “I didn’t hear that. Did you girls hear that?”
They don’t even hesitate before shaking their heads. They’re all looking at me like I’m some kind of monster when I’m the one who just got felt up.
Of course that’s when Oakland comes barreling through the curtain looking like thunder. “What’s going on here?” he barks.
“He pushed me!” Cougar cries, trembling and pointing at me as a fresh wave of tears spring forth.
I scoff. “Because she shoved her hand down my pants and grabbed my dick!” I argue back. But when I turn my attention from her to Oakland, I already know he’s going to put profit before anything else.
It must be a day ending with a ‘Y.’
“Oh my goodness, ma’am,” he cries, striding right past me.
“I can’t apologize enough! Let’s get you cleaned up and then we’ll make sure you and your lovely friends get a free round of drinks at the bar.
” He wraps his arm around her and starts escorting her and the others out.
He pauses and meets my gaze, glaring. “You wait in my office,” he hisses.
Whatever. I shouldn’t have been surprised. But the betrayal still feels like a sucker punch to the gut.
I storm out after them and head in the opposite direction to do as he says.
His office is hardly bigger than a broom cupboard, but I do my best to pace anyway.
Five minutes pass, then ten, then fifteen.
I’ve missed my solo, but I’m sure they just got someone else to perform instead.
It’s not like anyone’s waiting with bated breath to see me specifically light up the stage.
I’m just angry about the tips I’ve missed out on.
It doesn’t matter how long Oakland makes me wait, though. I’m not going to cool off if that’s what he’s hoping. I’m as furious at him as I am at that handsy woman.
“What the fuck, man?” I demand as soon as he storms through the open door. “She grabbed me!”
He squares up to me and puffs out his chest, like he’s not thirty pounds lighter and two inches shorter than me. “Apologize,” he says firmly.
“To you?” I ask, baffled. Because that’s not happening.
“To the lady you accosted.”
What? Wow. That’s definitely not happening.
“Why? I told you, she’s the one who went on a damn fishing expedition down my pants. If anyone’s owed an apology here, it’s me.” From her and you both, I add silently. The customer isn’t always right, for fuck’s sake. “I thought you were supposed to have our backs when customers get out of hand.”
He sneers at me. “The only thing I’m here to protect is the business. Right now, you’re hurting the business. Go out there and apologize or go clear out your locker. It’s your choice.”
Coldness rushes through my chest. When I speak, my words are low and tight. “So you’re telling me…if I don’t say sorry to the woman who just sexually assaulted me…I’m fired. Have I got that right?”