Spread (Club Deep #2)

Julian is standing on the balcony of the second floor, watching me with a smile on his face. That smile both warms me up and makes me shiver. My dancing changes again, because it’s not for the crowd anymore, it’s for him. I hold onto the top of the cage, swinging my hips and letting my short dress ride even further up my legs. He’s leaning against the railing, and I see one of his hands wander down as he watches me. I can’t quite tell because of the shadows, but it looks like he’s stroking himself through his pants.

Heat, fierce and real bursts through me. I love that I can make a man like Julian touch himself in public with my body, and suddenly I want to do it more. I use the cage like I’ve been hesitant to do up until now, hanging from the bars, and twirling, pushing my ass against the cage where he can see it. I let the straps of my dress fall off my shoulder and I pull up my dress and give him a glimpse of my panties.

The lights flash on my cage and I grin, dropping it low and bringing it back up again. The lights on the cage change—a tip on top of a tip. Now the lights are deep blue, matching my dress, and I feel like a star glimmering in my cage, ironically feeling totally free. I look at Julian and see him watching me with that same hunger that I saw when he was watching me at the audition. Only now that I know what that hunger leads to, I want more of it. I lose track of my movements, only dancing for him. The lights change again to bright green, the spots still focused on me, and I grab the bars of the cage facing Julian, pulling up my dress so I’m exposed and thrusting against the bars of the cage. I’m touching my breasts, letting my hands wander down my legs, grazing the edge of my panties. I don’t want there to be any question about what I want.

His mouth tips up into a smirk, and then he looks away, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. I hope he doesn’t take a picture of me like this, because the last thing I need is my mother seeing me humping a cage in a mini-dress on Facebook. But a moment later he puts his phone away and grins, holding his finger up like he’s telling me to wait. Just then, the music soars, club plunging into darkness as backlights flash on, neon graffiti pouring from the ceiling as the crowd roars. The only regular lights in the club are on me, and I have no choice but to dance, so I do. I give the crowd what they want, the sexy show they’ve been waiting for, and I’ve never felt so sexy, so powerful.

The regular club lights return and I look at my screen. That tip was for one thousand dollars. Seriously? What the fuck. My jaw drops, and I look at the balcony, at Julian—because it had to be him—but he’s gone. I look over at Cosette, to smile at her, and to share in the awesomeness. But she’s stock still in her cage, staring at me with what can only be horror. I thought she’d be happy for me, but she doesn’t look it. I notice I’ve stopped dancing and start to move again, only to hear a little ping coming from my screen.

Come to my office on your break. —J

Almost like he planned it, my cage starts to lower. People cheer as I come out of it, and my replacement climbs into the cage, lifted back into the air. I turn to the waitress who made the switch and ask her where Julian’s office is, and she gives me directions. His office is on the third floor of the building. Just like last night, the hallways I walk through to get to Julian’s office are quiet. I can hear the club music faintly pulsing through the walls, but it’s an afterthought. This behind-the-scenes area seems a lot nicer than the others I’ve seen. Almost plush. And when I find Julian’s office, it’s the same.

Clean white walls and a thick, soft, white carpet give the space a bright feeling even though it’s the middle of the night. There’s a big window with a nice view of Phoenix, and the night is one of those perfect Southwestern nights. All the stars are clear on the deep blue sky. Julian stands looking out the window, his back to me. I’m still a little out of breath from all my dancing, and I’m suddenly self-conscious about how I look, sweaty from dancing, dress practically falling off.

“Hi,” I say. Julian turns to me, that same feral hunger on his face. “Thank you for that tip. That was amazing, even though you didn’t have to do that.”