I slither toward him, moving my body with the seductive grace of a viper. My eyes lock onto his, daring him to look away as I slowly and teasingly spread my legs in front of him.
Running my hands over my thong, I slowly trace the tiny scrap of fabric covering my pussy.
By now, he’s gripping his cock like it’s his last breath.
“Hmmm,” he grunts, gulping hard as he frantically fans the cash.
Fifty bucks?
I don’t move.
You don’t get to peek at this pussy for fifty bucks, asshole.
From his pocket, he pulls out another fifty, and I smirk, turning around to present my ass to him.
“Yes, baby.” As he slides the cash into the side of my G-string, I roll my hips in front of his face, tantalizingly close but always just out of reach. I turn back and blow him a flirty kiss before sauntering away, leaving him panting and needy for more.
Yeah, I’ll take his money and then some.
One down, a whole club full of horny bastards to go. It’s going to be a long night, but the money’s good and that’s all that matters. I’ve got mouths to feed and bills to pay, and I’ll shake my moneymaker all damn night if that’s what it takes.
But first, I need a fucking break. My feet are killing me in these stilettos, and I can feel the sweat trickling down my back. I head toward the dressing room, dodging wandering hands and catcalls as I go.
I’m halfway to the dressing room, ready to get the fuck off my aching feet when I hear Jojo’s raspy smoker’s voice. “Hey, bitch, want to make some real money tonight?”
I turn to see her sauntering over, her fake tits practically bursting out of her leopard-print top. Her makeup’s so thick it looks like she applied it with a putty knife, and her eyelashes are longer than my fucking patience for this place.
“The fuck you want, Jojo?” I snap, not in the mood for her bullshit.
She takes a long drag from her bejeweled vape, blowing the sickly sweet smoke right in my face. “Got a high roller in the VIP room. Wants a private dance from the hottest piece of ass in this joint. That’s you, sweet cheeks.”
I scoff.
Private dances are a one-way ticket to Gropesville; population: handsy fucking assholes who think their wallet gives them a VIP pass to Pussy Paradise.
“Hard pass,” I say, turning on my heel. But Jojo’s next words stop me cold.
“Five hundredfor two hours, bitch. That’s some serious fucking cash,” Jojo says, blowing out another puff of smoke. The sweet stench of fake strawberries hits me in my face, but I don’t flinch. “That’s just for shaking your ass. You want more? Suck a dick, fuck ‘em, whatever. Your call. Just remember, the house gets a cut.”
Five hundred?
Motherfuck. That’s rent and then some. My mind’s already spending it.Em’s tuition, Lenny’s new laptop…
I sigh, my mind drifting to Lenny.
At fourteen years old, the kid’s been through so much already, growing up in this shitstorm of a family. Just last week, he came home from school, his head hung low, that secondhand laptop I scraped and saved for clutched to his chest like a fucking lifeline.
“What’s wrong, kiddo?” I’d asked, ruffling his mop of curls.
He’d looked up at me with those big, sad eyes. “It’s my laptop, Wren. It died on me in the middle of class. Again. Everyone waslaughing, calling me ‘broke boy’ and shit. I couldn’t even finish my project.”
My heart had fucking shattered. Poor kid, so smart, so full of potential. He deserves better than hand-me-downs and ghetto tech.
“Don’t sweat it, Len,” I’d said, pulling him into a hug. “We’ll figure it out. I’ll pick up some extra shifts, maybe do some overtime. We’ll get you a new laptop, one that actually works.”
He’d buried his face in my shoulder, his skinny arms squeezing me tight. “You’re the best, Wren. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“I got you, kiddo,” I’d told him. “Always. That’s what big sisters are for.”
