CHAPTER 10
Some women simply can’t hide how bright the light of life shines inside them, and others are drawn to it without necessarily knowing why.
“Damn. You hire a rockstar or what?” Dozer, our VP, takes a seat next to Bodie.
“The place is packed.” He’s a big guy, blond hair, clean-cut, eyes as steely as his father’s, who happens to be the club president.
His knuckles are bruised up, but I let my questions about that slide for now, handing him a beer.
“Yeah, thanks to this asshole.” I chin-lift toward Bodie.
A loud cheer erupts as Roxy hits the stage in a lime-green bikini and sky-high platforms. Her long blonde hair is pin-straight and pulled into a high ponytail. Like always, she heads straight for the high rollers and flashes them a large smile.
Bodie laughs, ignoring my scowl. “Isn’t a packed house a good thing?”
“She didn’t need the extra pressure.”
I asked him and Dozer to be here tonight so I had a few extra men watching things while I trained Bryan. I did not tell them to invite every member of our MC, which is what Bodie did, turning Lily’s debut into a spectacle.
“Or maybe you just wanted to keep her to yourself a little longer.”
I don’t respond. Just wipe my towel across the bartop and drill him with a glare that would have smart men ducking for cover. He remains unaffected because he’s been on the receiving end of it far too many times.
Bryan moves behind me, and I groan when I hear glass shatter. Bodie leans over the bar to inspect the mess. “Clean-up on aisle seven!”
I toss some towels to the kid. “I’ll grab the broom and mop. Just pick up the larger pieces and be careful. Don’t cut yourself.”
“Shit, Finn. I’m sorry, man.” Frazzled, Bryan moves quickly to clean it up.
“Don’t sweat it. Happens all the time.”
The slight headache I had earlier builds along with the tension in my shoulders as the boys get rowdier and Lily’s first performance draws nearer. The over-the-counter pain meds have done nothing to dull the edge. My body’s adapted to them. But at this point, I’ll take any relief I can get.
The loud music and flashing lights make matters worse. Usually, I’d take a break and spend an hour in my office with the lights off to get some relief—it’s soundproof for this very reason—but I can’t hide in the back tonight.
Not only do I want to see her perform, but now I need to play babysitter to these fools, and train fucking Bryan. He’s not a bad kid, but definitely not my best hire. This is evident when he doubts every drink he makes and checks with me before passing it to the customer.
That and the club is buzzing. Some of the dancers not on stage are socializing, while the waitresses make their rounds wearing their usual work attire: tight, hot-pink metallic skirts and white crop tops with the club’s logo across the chest.
Two of my guys are posted at the door checking IDs.
Andre and Ken are here in the main area, keeping their eyes on the dancers as they mingle.
Stone—another HOC brother with long black hair and a wealth of muscle—is upstairs with my bouncer, TJ, monitoring the private rooms and those giving privates in the lounge area up there.
Dozer is my floater. He’s watching everything and working with different members of my security crew to cover breaks and check in.
Thankfully, only a few low-scale issues have popped up.
Doesn’t stop my anxiety from rising, though, and there’s fuck all I can do about it except manage the bar and pass out drink after drink to the waitresses who seem to be a little overwhelmed by the unexpected increase in patrons.
I switch the channel on the two-way radio on my hip and lift it to my mouth as I ask, “How many?”
It takes Raven a moment to get back to me. Her laugh is the first thing I hear in my earpiece. “She’s up next.” She’s been giving me shit all night, because apparently, Bodie also filled her in about what went down during Lily’s audition.
“Good, it’s a fuckin’ circus out here. I hope she’s ready for that.”
The confidence in her tone when she gets back to me is a relief. “She’s ready. More than, I’d say. She’s super excited to get out there.”
And here I thought she’d be nervous as hell.
“You’re head over nuts for this girl, aren’t you?” Bodie taunts, inspecting me like he’s reading a book.
I give him a two-finger salute. “Fuck. Off. Rivers.”
His grin widens. “Why so serious, bro?”
Dozer comes by in time to catch the conversation. He chuckles and lifts an eyebrow at me. I point to each of them. “Not another word, or you’re both cut off.”
Time ticks on. My head pulses, but I stay behind the bar, keeping busy. Then the music cuts out, and Sasha exits the stage, collecting all the dollars littering its edge.
Alex, our emcee, takes the mic. “Who’s ready for something special?” He plays to the crowd and builds up the moment. Finally, he announces, “We got a new girl, and let me tell you… this stage is about to become lit the fuck up. She’s something to see.”
Whistles and raunchy comments erupt. The noise and spinning spotlight are the equivalent of a knife being wedged into my brain. A combination that hurts like a motherfucker, but I grin and bear it.
The lights dim, plunging the club into total darkness, except for the LED lights that run in lines along the aisles on the floor.
Then a pink light flicks on. It highlights the black stage backdrop for a beat before smoke begins to pour out and crawl across the stage floor, swirling outward.
It stirs anticipation throughout the club as people wait for the act to start.
“Give it up for our little flower… Lily!”
The crowd erupts and keep the cheers going as they wait. For a long moment, nothing happens. The overhead light leaves the stage and circles in a wide figure of eight around the club until it stops. When it does, every gaze locks on her like goddamn heat-seeking missiles.
She’s in the far corner, an opalescent diamond in the dark.
Her feet are kicked up on the table in front of her, crossed at the ankles, one leg draped lazily over the other, the toes of her silver heels bounce to the beat as the song begins.
Her dress is skin-tight, sheer, and studded more heavily with crystals in certain areas.
The spotlight glints off of them, sending fragments of neon dancing throughout the room.
With a slow, sultry smile, she kicks her legs high, extending them straight and holding for a moment before circling them in the air and then swinging them to the floor.
In one fluid motion, she’s on her feet, bending over the table, leaning on her elbow.
She playfully taps her nails on her teeth and sticks her ass out and gives a blinding smile to the crowd, all the while shaking her ass in a hypnotic rhythm that builds.
The song is “Maneater” by Nelly Furtado, but it’s mixed with another song I can’t name.
Her makeup is darker now, with silver on her eyes and long, thick lashes. Pink blush and pink lipstick highlight her insane cheekbones and lips. She’s teased her hair a bit, and it lies in messy curls around her shoulders.
She’s a sight. One I’m having a hard time looking away from.
Her body moves like molten gold—smooth, controlled—as she slowly gets up and crawls across the table.
She makes her way to the other side with her back in a perfect arch.
Less than a foot from one of the customers, she straightens and begins dancing while kneeling, letting her hands roam over her body.
She draws one finger over her lips and trails it slowly down her chest to the V of her low-cut dress.
Each man there is given some special attention before she gets down and seductively walks across the room, all the while maintaining that confident, sexy smile.
Mid-fucking-walk, she locks eyes with me and fucking winks. Her grin also kicks up another notch.
It jacks up my heart rate like it just got a jumpstart.
On her way to the stage, she pauses at a table.
She zeros in on the oldest gentleman of the three sitting there.
She spends a little time seducing him, trailing her nails down his tie, tugging the end until his head snaps back up.
She leans close to his ear, never touching, but he stiffens from whatever he heard.
His gaze is full of an intense, fiery lust when she backs away.
I’m no better. I’m trapped by the movements of her divine hourglass figure—the toned muscles in her legs, the infinitesimal swaying motion of her hips. The skirt on the dress is revealing and molded to her ass, long enough to cover it, but just barely.
She continues to work the room as she goes. It’s as if she’s fully aware of her effect and confident in her ability to make every man here fall in love with her.
It bothers me. But with the pain thumping behind my eyes, it’s impossible to fully grasp the thought before it’s gone.
When she finally makes her way to the stage, the walls vibrate with the volume of the cheers.
At this point, her performance transforms and becomes more erotic. It’s evident in her movements, the constant flow of her body, that she’s not just a stripper, but a trained dancer.
Her hands hike up the already short hem of her dress as she sinks to her bent knees. She parts her thighs and runs her hands over her body. She performs a more intimate dance, playing up to the group surrounding the stage. And by the looks of it, they’re enjoying the hell out of it.
When she’s back on her feet, she pushes down the shoulders of her dress. With teasing, sultry taunts, she peels it off, slow and deliberate, until, inch by inch, every sinful curve is on display.
What’s left—white sheer crystal panties and silver pasties—draws every eye to the parts of her body that are pure eye candy to a man’s soul.
Her long walk to the pole has mouths gaping open. The sight of her bare ass framed by the stark white strip of thong even has a few men fumbling for their wallets.
She grips the golden pole and starts with a lazy swing around it.
Then, turns and goes around in the opposite direction.
She rests her back against it and bends forward.
As she rises, her pink nails sweep up her leg from ankle to ass cheek.
But there’s also the sight of her breasts to contend with, and my gaze pings between the two.
Seconds later, she spins and kicks up, catching the pole between her thigh and calf. Like her dancing before on the front of the stage, the build-up starts. She begins with a few small, easy tricks that increase in difficulty and intensity.
She moves from one position to the next, adding a sultry grind against the pole.
The movements and pauses are purposeful, as if to highlight her best assets and skills.
Her body arcs in a slow, deliberate spin, an elegant tease that promises more.
She bends and flexes as she swings herself into the air, wrapping her legs or arms around it at times to stabilize herself.
The muscle definition in her arms, thighs, and calves is more evident than ever. They ripple beneath skin and glow under the stage lights.
And still she climbs higher, spinning this way and that, twisting upside down, and showing her experience by letting go and catching herself at the last moment.
I’m a fucking ball of anxiety as I watch. The image of that other girl falling is right there in the back of my mind, haunting me. Fear of Lily doing the same has me on a knife’s edge the entire time.
My worry seems to be unfounded, though, as she proves to have absolute control over each movement.
From the looks of it, the crowd is just as fascinated as I am.
As the song winds down, she comes off the pole and performs a more sexual routine on the floor, dominating in that area too. The finish is big and dramatic, and leaves her sucking in air as her chest heaves.
The entire act leaves us all a little stunned.
It’s like one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.
Not something you’d see in a place like this, and yet here she is, appearing out of nowhere and pulling off shit I guarantee no man in here has seen.
It’s like seeing an exotic animal in the wild.
You know instantly that you’re a lucky son of a bitch to have been in the right place at the right time to experience it.
When she finishes, the applause can probably be heard down the block. Half the crowd gets to their feet. Lily smiles and takes a cute little bow, soaking it all in.
She grabs her dress and walks back into the audience, approaching a table of women, a bachelorette party. Sweat glistens on her body. Her hair, a tangle of curls, is damp with it.
The group gets louder as Lily closes in on them.
Even from afar, her laugh is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
Lily offers the bride-to-be her dress. The girls freak right the fuck out, giddy with excitement. The bride immediately starts bawling and throws her arms around Lily’s neck.
Dozer moves to stop the physical contact, but I wave him off. Let the bride have her moment.
The girls scream in delight when the bride turns and holds up the dress like a trophy.
The rest of the crowd cheers. Lily seems to delight in their happiness a moment before she waves goodbye to them.
She blows the rest of the room a kiss and even does a cute little princess curtsy, gaining herself one last round of applause and high-pitched whistles.
Jesus.
This fucking woman.
Where in the fuck did she come from?
And how in the ever-loving hell did she learn to do everything she just did? Also, she left every single bill thrown her way on the stage. What is that about?
I radio Raven and tell her to send someone out there to collect it. She tells me she’s already on it, because apparently, she already knew this was going to happen. I’m the only one left in the dark.
Story of my fucking life.