Addison
“Please welcome to the stage...Cinnamon!”
“Remember to video everything,” I said to Dylan and took another shot of Patrón.
The opening siren of “Cherry Pie” sounded, as if summoning me to the stage.
“I’m on it,” she promised.
To Warrant’s shouts of, “Dirty! Rotten! Filthy! Stinkin’ rich!” I strutted onto stage wearing a leopard miniskirt borrowed from Infinity, stilettos borrowedfrom Diamond, a black boa, and my own bra and panties. I always wore matching underwear...always. There were three poles to choose from, but the center pole was being used when Dylan and I entered the club, and Candy had just come off the one on the right, so I opted for the least vagina-ey one, grateful it just so happened to be the one Greg was sitting in front of.
“Cinnamon!” someone yelled.“More like CinnaBun!”
Well, that was rude.
The song’s chorus blasted through the club as I wrapped my hand around the pole to twirl around it, slipping to my ass...hard. I rolled onto my back and made it look like I’d meant to do that, gyrating my hips as I pushed my tatas together. Greg hooped and hollered, waving a dollar bill at me. I smiled and shook my head, getting to my feet again anddancing around the stage, careful to avoid the groping hands of the bikers. Turning my ass to the crowd like I was shy, I slowly lowered the boa, letting it slide off one shoulder, then the next. As a group of bikers swarmed the stage, I shimmied the skirt off my hips until I was left in my bra, panties, and stilettos.
I noticed Dylan forcing her way to where Greg stood, with the camera at theready, so I headed back that way just as my gaze caught on a pair of familiar narrowed blue eyes. They were attached to an angry man, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, motorcycle boots, and the most terrifying scowl I’d ever seen as he stalked toward me.
“Jake?” I squeaked.
He obviously couldn’t hear me over the music, but at my recognition, his expression grew even harder, if that was possible.
I rushed to Greg, knelt in front of him and let him put money in my g-string. Dylan gave me an encouraging nod and I scooted my ass off the stage before Jake could get to me. I heard male voices boo and bellow obscenities as I disappeared behind the curtain.
“Hey, you’re not done!” Marvin snapped. “Get your ass back out there.”
“Oh my god, I’m sorry, I have an emergency,” I lied. “Can someonejump in for me for a few?”
“It doesn’t work that way,” he ground out. “Piss on your own time.”
“No. You don’t understand. I tried a new Mexican place last night and unless you want re-refried beans on your stage, I’d suggest you let me go.”
I did an exaggerated potty dance and he let out a string of expletives and waved me toward the dressing room, no doubt wanting me to avoid the public restroom.I headed to the back just as Dylan caught up. We pushed through the doors into the dressing room together. Back here, the music was muted enough that I could almost string two thoughts together.
“Jake. Shit. We need to get out of here!” I said, opening the locker I’d stuffed my purse into.
