The lights go out and sirens scream.1
Holding my helmet with one hand and my crotch with the other, I body roll in tandem with the guys and slide my fireman’s suspenders over my shoulders. I get lost in the cadence and sweat beads across my body. I’ve never been in better physical shape than I am now, but it’s impossible to get through just one dance without sweat pouring off my body.
A hush falls over the crowd when the music dies off and the lights dim for dramatic effect, but it doesn’t last long. There are only a few seconds of silence before high-pitched squeals and whistles break through. Music blares once again, and the five of us rip off our tight white T-shirts, sending on-lookers into riot mode.
With seconds left in our dance before I have to bring someone on stage, I scan the crowd. Kim always says to pick the bride or groom from stage right so we don’t have to spend time dilly-dallying over who comes up. She always talks with the group ahead of time to make sure they’re game, but we always get consent in the moment, too.
I expect to find a bride in the bachelorette party that Ian, Robbie, and I are making our way to. What I don’t expect is for the bride in question to be Robyn.
Professional rugby player and social media icon, Robyn Cassidy.
My future sister-in-law.
OH NO.
Standing three feet away, I’m frozen in place as the bachelorette party around us screams and pats her back. But my line of sight catches on my sister Angie sitting right next to her with the same shocked expression.
“Jonah, what the fuck?” Angie screams. “You’re a stripper?”
My skin prickles, and my chest tightens as a wave of heat engulfs me. I catch Kim, not too far away, give me theHurry, you’re wasting timeflick of her wrist. There’s panic coursing through me as I process being caught in my deceit and the fear of disappointing my boss. I turn off my thoughts, hoist Robyn over my shoulder, and carry her to the stage.
I just need to do as I’m told.
A stagehand has already placed a chair front and center under the spotlight, and the crowd’s screams have met an all-time high when I set her down. She’s wearing a white cocktail dress, and she’s done up to the nines, but it does nothing to hide the blush creeping over her face and down her chest.
“This is not happening,” she gasps, her eyes blown in disbelief.
Unable to stop myself for fear of reality setting in, I continue my routine and stalk around her chair. “Should I stop?” I ask in all seriousness.
“No.” She places her hands against her flaming cheeks and shakes her head. “This is the funniest and the most awkward thing that has ever happened to me. Proceed.”
I’m glad she finds it funny. Robyn can find humor in almost anything. She’s perfect for my grumpy brother Isaiah and their paramour Dell. I just learned what that means. It’s like another partner, not a punk rock band.
It is pretty funny, isn’t it? Stripping for my future sister-in-law. Isaiah is going to lose his marbles when he finds out. Before he was with her, he not-so-secretly pinedfor her and routinely made death threats toward me for casually mentioning that she was the love of my life. It was never that serious, but it’s fun to rile up my older brother.
If she’s game, I’m game.
I walk behind her chair, trailing my hand from her elbow, up her bare shoulder and across her back before swiftly coming around and hiking my leg over her lap and sitting. Like most women who come to the stage, she can barely keep it together. Her giggling only spurs me on and turns my fear into excitement and pride. I’ll deal with the rest of my family finding out later. Right now, I want to make my friend Robyn have the most memorable bachelorette party ever.
Taking her hands, I place them against my bare skin and force her to touch my chest and abdomen. She screams with a mix of nervousness and laughter but allows me to continue. When I move her hands to my unbuttoned pants, she turns her focus on me and tenses.
I lean forward and whisper in her ear, “Don’t worry. I won’t make you touch that. Zay might actually kill me if I did.”
Also, it’s completely against the club’s rules for a patron to touch my dick.
I give her my all and get lost in the high for the next four minutes. Normally, I see dancing and stripping as nothing more than work. I understand people come for a show, and many of them are squirming in their seats. That’s the purpose of this whole setup. What many people don’t understand is the feeling almost never goes both ways. I’m thinking about my next step and positioning the person in the right way—there’s no time for attraction. There’s no time to maintain a boner while you’re doing the worm on top of your stage partner and then hoisting them up in the air up-side-down so their face is level with your crotch.
There’s just no time!
When the song fades and Robyn’s stage time ends, I’m in nothing but my gold G-string and sweat. Because of me, Robyn’s body is covered in glitter, her hair mussed up from me gently grabbing fistfuls of it earlier. She hugs me on stage, beaming from ear to ear. I hoist her up one more time and carry her down the stairs to her waiting party. When I set her down next to my sister, I’m incredibly aware that my ass is hanging out.
Oh well. Angie’s seen me in less.
“I may be scarred for life,” my sister says. “How long have you been doing this?”
I clear my throat and pull at the back of my neck. “Since sophomore year of college.”
“Jonah!” I’m about to shrivel under my oldest sister’s gaze, but she surprises me when she punches my arm and adds, “Look at you sticking to something!”
