“Just some rich guy,” I say instead like I haven’t got a clue, smiling in a way I hope suggests I’m very confident but also kind of dumb.
Juniper rolls her eyes. “Sometimes I really wonder how you manage to make it through a day without getting hit by a car, you’re so damn stupid.”
“Don’t be a bitch, Junie,” Ginnie says and leans toward me. “Just be careful with this one, sweetie, okay? And don’t be surprised by what you see in there.” Her face falters slightly and she chews her lip. She was one of the first girls that was kind to me when I got hired all those months ago and when I was adjusting to life in this place, where morals are flexible and sins are a prerequisite to having fun. “You’ll be fine though. Just give him whatever he wants.”
My eyes widen. “He’s not gonna try to pressure me into—”
Ginnie shakes her head and forces herself to smile. “You’ll be fine. Better get going though if that’s for him.”
I frown at her and pretend to look nervous—which isn’t hard, since I’m a bundle of anxiety at the moment—before I turn and march off down the cheap red carpeting beneath the dim orange overhead lights. I hear Juniper say something nasty back there and Ginnie snaps back something sharp, and I smile to myself—I don’t know what I did to win that girl’s loyalty, but I love her to death for it.
Sweat glistens on my skin and drips down my back. I hear voices from the front of the club—patrons talking to whatever girls are currently dancing for them, and the smell of lavender and body glitter, sweet and silky, drifts through the air. A girl laughs, slightly shrill, definitely fake, and a deep rumble of a man’s voice answers her. I’m so attuned to the sounds of Crystal Lake that I catch almost everything, it flows over me and through me, and I can picture what’s happening—Monique grinding her hips in some frat guy’s crotch while his friends laugh and toss singles, or Sarah bending backwards while she rolls her pelvis in the face of a drunk businessman while he shoves tens into the waistband of her thong, letting his finger graze the soft skin inches away from her freshly smoothed pussy.
All this happens around me, but I’m focused on room three and what’s beyond its closed door.
I hear nothing inside—it’s one of the truly soundproofed rooms in the place which is why he’s in there—and I’m shaking as I stand outside of it. As soon as he came in through the front door, I knew he’d end up inside that room, and I practically begged Kia to switch with me—she’ll work the floor and I’ll work the privates—and that might be a problem. But that’s an issue for future-Grace to worry about.
I tuck a strand of my shoulder-length, curly auburn hair behind an ear, straighten my skirt, make sure my tits are in position, and take a deep breath before I open the door a crack and step inside.
The lighting’s all reds and purples and gives everything an otherworldly vibe like I stepped from our universe into something dripping with velvet. A pole stands at the far end and a pretty blonde named Rainwater slides down it upside-down, completely naked, her tanned skin taut and glistening with oil, her little perky breasts shaking slightly with the tension of her muscles as she spins around in an incredible, graceful arc. I know strippers are seen as low-rent and classless or whatever, but I’m always impressed at just how athletic some of these girls are and what they can do with their bodies. Rainwater is one of the best, she’s like an acrobat as she glides and spins and twirls, contorting herself, making her trim, lean legs seem to shift and sway and dance in the air.
To the right, a large black leather couch is set up facing the pole. Another girl dances in front of it, with cloud-pale skin, long black hair, and an incredible ass, her top still on and her bottoms basically nonexistent as she twerks her hips with her hands above her head. I catch her eye and Raven grins and winks at me, and my stomach twists as I look at the man sitting on the couch, and the girl kneeling before him.
He’s bigger than I expected. I mean, I knew he was tall—easily over six feet—but he’s brimming with muscles and a dark, dangerous aura oozes from him like smoke. I catch glimpses of tattoos that disappear into an expensive suit. His dark hair’s cut short and slicked back, and he’s staring down at the girl before him as she takes his cock and sucks him deep into her throat.
I stand frozen for a beat. Sunshine’s got dark blonde hair and amazing boobs—one time I asked her if they were fake and she proudly puffed out her chest, shook her head, and said, “Sweetie, these puppies are corn fed and all natural,” and I liked her ever since—and she strokes the man’s cock with a loving smile as she looks into his eyes with an amazing feigned reverence, an act good enough to win a freaking Oscar.