Trevor gives us a wave and tells us he’ll see us later as he and Adrian go into the club.
“Nice to meet you,” I tell Duke.
“Enjoy the show,” he calls after us when Garrett and I head for the door.
Inside the lobby, the red-haired woman behind the ticket counter watches us approach. “You were here last night, weren’t you?” she says, eyeing up Garrett.
“Can’t get enough,” he says drily.
“He’s friends with two of the dancers,” I offer. “Trevor and Adrian?”
“Oh, that’s nice,” she says, sounding motherly, or maybe more like a fun aunt. “They haven’t been here long, but they seem like good guys. Duke says so, anyway.”
“Duke knows them well?” I ask. I did sense some kind of relationship between the men during their brief exchange.
“The two of them live with him, actually,” she says. “When the club added more nights to the calendar and put out a call for more talent, Duke suggested they try out. From what I’ve heard, they turned out to be naturals. I’m Brittany, by the way,” she says with a grin. “May as well introduce myself if you’re going to be regulars.”
“I’m Autumn, and this is Garrett,” I say, smiling back at her.
“Do you offer punch cards?” Garrett asks. “For every ten visits, we get one free?”
Brittany throws her head back and laughs. “If we had those, we’d have a lot of women earning a lot of free visits. Every night I wonder where they all come from.”
To prove her point, a large group of women come through the door at that moment, talking and laughing, the woman at the head of the group wearing a sash identifying her as a bride-to-be.
After Garrett insists on paying again, he and I head down the hallway into the showroom. Arriving early has its benefits, because we’re able to claim a table near the front. I take a seat to hold the table while Garrett goes to get us drinks. When he returns, placing a familiar-looking lemon drop in front of me, I say, “I appreciate you coming here with me.”
“I was joking about the punch cards,” he says. “I probably don’t want to make a habit out of this, though I like spending time with you.”
“We’re together all day at work.”
“I know,” he says, “but this is different.” He leans in to press his lips to mine, first briefly, then he goes for a longer taste that stirs up something fuzzy deep inside in my belly. “I can’t get enough of you,” he says as he pulls back to run the tip of his nose along the edge of my cheek, sending tingles up my spine.
I know how he feels, and I feel that way about him, but I also can’t stop thinking about Trevor, and a few minutes ago, I was just lusting after their gorgeous friend Adrian. I wasn’t sure I’d ever have feelings like this for a man, but here I am, wanting two and possibly three men. Is this just the result of long-repressed desire?
But Garrett’s right. We can’t make a habit of this, because he and I shouldn’t even be kissing, and me coming here chasing after a stripper who earns his living making women horny is kind of silly. But tonight, I’m going to be silly, and maybe a little reckless, because maybe not everything is meant to be part of a long-term plan.
As long as no one’s getting hurt, what’s the harm in having some fun?
12
Adrian
Another day, another few hundred dollars. I’m sure there are many worse ways to earn money.
The music changes, and I focus on staying in sync with the other dancers in line with me. The nights on stage provide great cardio workouts, though I’d rather go for a run on the beach.
We’re wearing sleeveless dress shirts, the kind of thing that no one but male strippers wear, and the moment has arrived. In unison, we all rip open the fronts of our shirts, popping the row of studs that hold the shirts together. A distinctly female roar rises from the audience in response. They want to eat us alive.
The money is very useful as I prepare for a better future, but unlike the other dancers, I’m not as comfortable with so many eyes on me, and — when the women are within reach — so many hands on me. It’s just a temporary job. A means to an end. So I put a smile on my face, flex my muscles, thrust my hips, collect my paycheck, and count the dollar bills.
All those dollars add up, and they’re definitely coming in handy for the classes I need to take.
We’re just backup dancers in this number, and our pants are still on when it’s time to file off the stage. Trevor and I have a decent break before we go out again, so we take our time putting on the firefighter costumes for our next performance.
“Did you spot Autumn?” Trevor asks. “She’s at a table right up front.”
“No, I didn’t see her.” I’m in the habit of ignoring the audience as much as possible because it’s too easy to lose focus.