Dirty Vegas Nights (The Trifecta 2)

“Hey, my eyes are up here.” My voice is soft. Not exactly the tone I was going for at all.

He takes his time making it up to my face and off my body. His lazy smile is crooked and adorable. It nearly knocks me off my feet.

“Yes, I get it. I’m dressed like a stripper.” His nostrils flare at the mention of being a stripper, so I decide to lay it all out for him. “Because, surprise, I am a dancer. And I don’t do free shows, so if you want to keep eye-fucking me I suggest you come to my job. I’m off work.”

He smirks. “You’re a stripper?”

“Dancer,” I correct him. “Technically I don’t strip, but the way you’re looking at me right now makes me feel cheap.”

He shuts his eyes, holding out his hand. “I’m so sorry if you think I’m looking at you wrong. Promise.” He smiles, peeking one eye open. “I’m just kind of having a hard time keeping my eyes off you.”

“Well,” I don’t know what to say to his words, “try harder.”

3

Axel

Oh, I’m pretty fucking hard all right. Damn, she’s a fucking knockout. That outfit she’s in looks like it was spray painted on. I wasn’t trying to treat her like a cheap stripper, I was just trying my best to form words while her body grabbed all my attention.

“What the hell was that all about?” Damien asks when I walk into the house.

“She’s a stripper.” I drop to the couch and run my hands over my face. “Well, dancer, but you know what I mean.”

“Ok, and?” Damien watches me with a puzzling face.

“She just yelled at me for staring at her like a piece of meat. She said I made her feel cheap.” I scrub my hands over my face again, still bewildered by the whole exchange.

Damien releases a loud laugh getting up and handing me a beer before plopping down on the couch next to me. “Holy shit. That's priceless.” He can’t stop laughing.

It’s not that funny.

Seriously, it’s not.

“It’s not funny.” I take a long draw, squeezing the bottle while wishing it was stronger.

“Actually, it’s very funny. You of all people got yelled at for objectifying someone.” Damien laughs again. “Why didn’t you want me to tell her who we were?”

“At first, I didn’t want her to know because I didn’t want her to see me differently.” I don’t mind admitting it to Damien. He understands how much I hate being objectified, and I didn’t want her to know I’m one of the infamous Trifectas because I wanted her to see me as a person.

That fucking backfired.

Ben, Axel, and Damien our names are infamous in the erotic dancing world, not just in Vegas, but all over the world. We’re the Trifecta. We’re B.A.D. The triplets who took over the stripping world, and we haven’t stopped gaining fame since the day we stepped on stage.

Ben the oldest, loved the attention he received from being a part of the Trifecta. He took home a new woman, or women almost every night, refusing to do repeats, until he met Clara. I never thought Ben would be the first to fall in love, and give up his ways, but as soon as he met Clara at her evil stepsister’s bachelorette party he was a goner. He’s been head over heels since.

Damien, the youngest, used to be like Ben, just a milder version. He would bring home women in droves leaving them weak and in love, yet never found the one to make him want to be a one woman man. After a couple years in the business, Damien stepped back from his whoring ways. He began to focus on making our brand, and he did such a good job he made us worldwide. Willie, the owner of the club we work at, took us in, and taught us everything we needed to know to become the Trifecta.

Damien made us better. And now that we’re taking over the club, the plan since Willie took us in, Damien is only focused on making the club the best it can be. No more time for women in Damien’s busy business life.

I think it has more to do with just being busy making the Trifecta the most well known erotic dancers. Even if he won’t admit it, I’m pretty sure Damien’s getting sick of all the women treating him like he’s nothing more than a muscular body. I had brought him over to the dark side, he just refuses to admit it.

It’s exhausting being treated like a plaything.

Being hollered at like we don’t have anything meaningful to say.

Me, I hated it almost from the very start. Women groping me as if they have the right, as if they own my body, and can treat it however they please. The other dancers laugh at me because of my hatred toward the way we’re treated, but I don’t care. Well, to be fair my emotions didn’t turn to hatred until I had to get a restraining order on one lady. She came in begging for a VIP experience and for some reason right after she left the club she decided I was the man for her. I cringe remembering all the attempts she did to get my attention.