Dirty Secrets (Get Dirty 4)

She finds romance in my obsession, beauty in my icy heart, and worthiness in my dirty soul. With a small smile, I pluck her Queen and place it next to my now upright King in the middle of the board.

“It seems we have a winner.”

Allie nods, biting her lip. “I’m not sure, but I think that was an illegal move there.”

“You get used to those with me,” I deadpan. “Now take that shirt off and lie down. I think that ass needs a good spanking.”

She laughs and flips over, sending the other pieces of the set tumbling off the board and onto the comforter.

“Sounds to me like I’m the winner.”

In moments, my shirt she’s wearing goes flying across the room to land haphazardly on a chair and her ass wiggles in the air before me. I take the time to set the chess pieces aside, mostly because I don’t want a piece of marble to roll underneath my knee in the middle of our passion but also in deference to the sentimental value of my father’s chessboard.

He taught me so much in those hours on either side of the board. Patience, strategy, sacrifice.

And I think I’ll need every one of those lessons with my Allison.

Chapter 28

Allie

A few months later . . .

“And step, two, three, and lift. Let the spin build, extend your leg, and then your arms,” I say, coaching the class through a basic move on the pole.

The women beam, proud of themselves, feeling powerful in their bodies. And they should be. They’re amazing. Clapping, I give them a celebratory yell, embracing the woohoo girl inside me for a moment.

“Yes! And land it, dropping that booty to your heels, open your knees wide into a Hello Kitty, and close that peekaboo tease. Lead up with your ass, letting your head stay low . . . and pow!”

The ladies scissor their knees Single Ladies style and then drag their hands up their thighs to finish in their closing poses. If their men were here, there’d be some babies getting made tonight.

Excited, I run around the room in my heels, high-fiving each woman as they break pose and the room goes bubbly and giggly with laughter.

“Great job, everyone! Beautiful and fierce!”

I can see the praise warming their spirits, but more importantly, they’re feeling it from within, having been transformed from busy women rushing around, focusing on everyone else, into goddesses, unlocking their own inner sexy.

Their faces remind me again why I have the best job ever. My mission is literally to make women feel good about themselves and love the body they have, and I’m rewarded every time I see someone go from tentative newbie to stomping pole queen over the course of a few classes.

As everyone waves goodbye, I do my daily cleanup, running a cleansing towel up and down each pole. Tomorrow, I’ll use my ‘pole polisher,’ as Donna laughingly calls it, which makes sure every inch of brass remains gleaming.

I’m just finishing up when I hear a soft knock on the doorframe, and Donna asks, “Good class?”

“Yeah, great one!” I reply, tossing my cleaning rag behind my back and catching it.

Donna hums. “Well, receipts look great, and we’re getting enough interest that you might need to open another class.”

I’ve considered it because my pole classes, private lessons, and Diva Dance classes are almost always fully booked, so there’s definitely a demand for it. But between those, the private bachelorette parties, ballet classes, and the once-a-month feature at Petals, I’m doing everything I can.

Although some of that dancing isn’t just for me. Dominick has been putting my body to work every morning and night, and while I love it, something’s got to give. I don’t want it to be my body, so I’m carefully weighing each commitment before signing on.

I finally respond, “I’m going to leave my schedule as it is so I have time to practice for myself. I need that too.”

Donna nods, her smile one of motherly approval. Before she can say anything, Eileen sticks her head in, grinning lewdly.

“Hey, Allie, your chunka escort is here for the night.”

I grin, knowing that she’s taken to giving Logan a good-natured hard time about his weight. He’s simultaneously bulking up and leaning out, something about weight classes. I don’t understand the reasoning behind it, but he can go on for hours on end about his macros.

Luckily, I don’t understand a word, or I would’ve had to tell him to shut up about it, and I don’t want to do that because I like Logan and our guard-slash-friend relationship. Though I have years under my belt with healthy eating, one of the key components of lifelong recovery is to not overanalyze and focus on what I put in my mouth, which is basically what he’s doing in a healthy way. Making healthy choices and not obsessing is how I know I’m doing well.