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“Damn. You still pissed at me about that shit I did on social media? Why I gotta get a church hug from you?” he wanted to know.

“I’m not worried about that shit from social media anymore. You apologized for it already,” I told him.

“So, you must got a nigga now? That’s what you got going on now, love?” he inquired.

“You want me and my girls to dance for ya’ll or you want to get in my personal business?” I asked him, standing with my hands innocently behind my back, while looking up at him.

“I’ll take the dance. I don’t need a dance from your girls though. I want my dance to come from you,” he said.

Those words made me snap into Poison, and Deja immediately left the scene. I grabbed him by the collar of the Prada shirt that he had on and pushed his ass back onto the couch. He liked that shit because there was a goofy smile on his face, while he looked at me. He kept one of his arms extended on the couch, while the other hand was to his lips, smoking the blunt.

I brought my ass over to him, facing him at first because I wanted him to get a perfect shot of this body. I wanted him to take it all in and know that he wasn’t going to get the chance to ever hit this. He stared at my body as if he was in a trance, and that’s when I turned around, giving him my back, needing him to see this shit from behind too. He was back there, making all kinds of howling noises, loving this view.

Taking him by surprise, I slammed all this ass in his lap, and I began grinding. There was stacks of money piled up in clear bags that they’d more than likely exchanged at the door. Kilo immediately opened the first pack and started throwing money on me. I was grinding on his dick, feeling how hard it was getting underneath me. I did one of my favorite tricks on him, which was leaning my body over, putting the palm of my hands on the floor, while keeping my feet planted on either side of him. I started bouncing my ass up and down, doing it in a way where I would lean forward, and slide back on him. You would think that I was riding him. I did that about ten times before I slid back up, turned around in his arms, so I could face him. He was still throwing money my way.

“Damn. Let’s get one of the private rooms. I want to fuck you so bad,” I heard it in his voice that he was desperate to feel me.

“I don’t sell pussy,” I innocently stated, looking him in his eyes, as I continued bouncing on him.

“You ain’t selling it. You’ll be giving it to a nigga that desperately wants it. Come on, Deja. Let me feel it,” he begged, putting his hands out, and grabbing on my ass.

I was smooth with moving his hands out of the way. He tried to laugh it off like he wasn’t hurt that I moved his hands away. I knew when I was face to face with a man that wanted to devour me. My man looked at me like this every single day. I had Kilo right by his fuckin balls. You could tell that he was probably never teased this much before in his life.

There were other niggas in the section that wanted some of my time, and wanted a dance from me, but Kilo hogged me, keeping me all to himself. I danced on him for well over twenty minutes. I damn near had to run out of his lap because he wouldn’t let me get up.

After the dance ended, that’s when me, and the rest of the women in the section went for the poles. We danced in their section, giving them our best tricks, and performances. Money covered every inch of the floor in the section by the time we were finished. Kilo, and his guys tricked off more than enough money for us. Our time with them had come to an end, and I was getting ready to walk out of the section with the rest of the girls, but Kilo grabbed my arm.

“Wait. Wait. Hold on girl. What you doing tomorrow? I’m going to be in Miami for a couple of days. Let’s hang out tomorrow. I’ll take you shopping and shit,” he said, thinking that that was going to get me to say yes.

“I have a man now, Kilo. I can’t just be hanging out with niggas,” I voiced. When I said that, he sucked his teeth.

“You had a nigga when you came to Atlanta. What the fuck is the difference?” he asked, and you could hear the agitation all in his voice.

This nigga wanted to fuck me, and I wasn’t giving him the opportunity to do it, so now he was getting in his feelings.

“No, when I came to Atlanta, I had someone that I was dealing with. I have a man now. Someone that I go home to every night. Someone that I wake up to every morning,” when I said that part to him, he sucked his teeth in annoyance again.

“You still dancing though, so the shit can’t be that serious. If it was me, and my girl was dancing, she would have had to quit. If I’m serious with someone and I got her sleeping at my house and shit, ain’t no fuckin stripping,” he finished.

I laughed right in his face, as I took a couple of steps his way. I wanted to be closer to him. I wanted him to feel me when I said this next part.

“It’s not you though love, so you don’t have to give out fake ass scenarios on what you what have done if I was your girl. There’s a difference between you, and the nigga that I have at home. Who I have at home is secure. I was just on the phone with him, and he told me to make sure I take all ya’ll money when I come out here. He knows the kind of bitch that he’s dealing with. Meaning, he knows that when niggas like you come on to me and try to get me to fuck, that I’ll never bite the bait. If you had a bitch like me, and you needed me to quit dancing, it would be because you lack trust. I get five-star dick at home. I’ll be a fool to let one of you niggas fuck, and I lose my man,” I was calm when I said these things to him.

I had him pissed too. He tricked off all this money on me and probably thought he was going to fuck. I’m not sure what kind of strippers he was used to dealing with, but I’ve never fucked for money.

“Yeah aight,” was all that his ass had to say in return.

I ended up walking away from him, and signaling for security to come over so that they could pile up my money in bags for me. It was after one in the morning now, and I’ve already made enough money for the night. I was going to head out now.

I made my way back to the locker room, and there weren’t many girls back here. Just three of them. I went ahead over to my locker, unlocked it, and pulled out the sweatsuit that I came in wearing this evening. As I was slipping it on, Obsession walked in the room. She was by herself. When she walked in, her eyes landed directly on mine. She had a look in her eyes as if she wanted to say something to me. I gave her my back, so that I could remove my tall platform heels. The second I had them off, she was standing directly behind me. There was an uncomfortable look in her eyes, as she picked her hand up, scratched at her head, while looking down at me.

“Poison, I⁠—”

“You got the nigga, love. You don’t owe me shit,” I cut her off, not trying to hear anything that she had to say to me.

“Yeah, but me and you work here together, and I hate that uncomfortable feeling that I get whenever I come in the locker room, or when I’m around you⁠—”

“That’s not discomfort that you’re describing, love. That’s guilt, and it’s tearing your ass apart. You fucked a nigga that you knew I was dealing with. Everyone knew that I was dealing with Hitta. Me, and you had issues prior. You would think that whatever ill feelings you had with me would make you not want to even deal with a nigga that you knew I was fuckin. Not only did you fuck him, but you’re standing in front of me, carrying his baby. That’s your conscious eating at you whenever you come around me, and I can’t fix that for you. I’m not uncomfortable being around you. I don’t mind being around you because I know the kind of nigga that you’re pregnant by. I know if I call that nigga right now, and tell him that I forgive him, he will break his neck getting to me. Enjoy the nigga. He’s all yours my love,” I ended it with that.