Better When It Hurts (Stripped 2)

I stare at him, somehow shocked. I hear men catcall me, hear them proposition me, hear them swear at me every night. No amount of dirty words can surprise me, but somehow hearing him promise to fuck me does just that.

“Say yes, baby.” His eyes are some kind of magic. I can’t look away. And I can’t say no.

Maybe this is what it will finally take to atone for what I did. Maybe this is some kind of perverted redemption for me, a way to make him whole. Or maybe I’m just making excuses, because I don’t know what else to do. Years ago I’d find the strongest boy in school and let him fuck me for protection. Now the strongest boy is Blue and the strip club is my school—and the only man I need protection from is him.

“Last,” I say, my voice so gravelly I can barely make it out.

“What?”

“You said you’ll be trying my pussy for the first time. And it will be the last time too.”

A slow smile crosses his face. “We’ll see, gorgeous. We’ll just fucking see about that.”

* * *

I manage to get through my routine the same as always. The hoots from the men are just as loud. The tips are just as good. I keep up appearances because I’m too damn good at it.

Inside, I’m rattled.

When I exit the stage, I don’t even hit the floor. That’s where I can make the most money, but I head for the back. Maybe I’m a little freaked out after what happened in the VIP room last time. Or maybe I just don’t want to see Blue watching me, judging me, while other men paw at me.

My breasts bounce a little as I walk. I’m naked except for my G-string.

I should be comfortable this way. I’ve definitely walked this hallway naked many times before. Only this time I can’t help thinking about a certain man I’ve passed here before.

We’ll just fucking see about that.

A looming shadow appears before me, like something supernatural—only it’s no ghost that I bump into, bare breasts and all. I stumble, clumsy, and his hands reach out to steady me.

“Careful.” Blue.

It’s like I’ve summoned him just by thinking of him. He touches my arms, just my arms, but my skin gets goose bumps as if it’s more. My nipples harden into points. I cover them with my hands, somehow modest even though he would have just seen me onstage. He doesn’t release me, so I stand there, cupping my breasts, my arms held by his.

I’ve been fondled and spanked. I’ve been mauled in the goddamn VIP room. But this is the most intimate position I’ve been in for a long time. It’s the most intimate position I’ve been in since he last held me five years ago.

“I’m okay,” I say, my voice wobbling. Even then he takes his time releasing me. I stumble back against the wall. “I’ve been thinking about Saturday.”

“Me too, gorgeous,” he says, his voice low in the dark hallway. “It’s all I can think about.”

Shit. I’d been hoping it was some adrenaline-fueled fantasy, that he’d change his mind once we were back at the club. “I don’t think—”

“You’re not going to cancel on me, are you?”

The warning in his tone doesn’t give me much choice. Still I have to try. “It’s not a good idea to get involved with someone at work.”

He laughs. “We’re already involved.”

“Right, well.” I’m almost stammering—how does he do this to me? “This would be more involved. And Ivan wouldn’t like it.”

“Ivan doesn’t have to know.” He steps close, pressing me against the wall with his body, and I gasp. The concrete behind me is cool. His body is a furnace. “Besides, Ivan isn’t exactly focused on playing by the rules.”

“Maybe I like following rules.”

“That’s not the way I remember you.” He nuzzles my temple, almost the way an animal would scent another one. “I remember the wild girl I couldn’t get enough of.”

“That was me then. I was…troubled.”

“You’re working as a stripper. Most people would call that troubled.”