Hemy - Page 25/38

Aggravation takes over as another girl enters the stage, swaying her hips wearing next to nothing. Onyx is next and I don’t have time for games. I’ll pay whatever the hell they want. I could care less about the money.

“Tell your boss I’ll pay three grand to have Onyx dance for me in private. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind the extra cash. Just make it happen.”

The girl holds up her finger before walking over to the phone and making a call. She comes back a minute later and points down the hall. “The room all the way to the back. It’s our biggest room and it gives you some privacy in case you don’t want to be seen by the dancer. Roman said he’ll make it happen. I’ll give Onyx the message.”

I turn to walk away, but stop before taking a step. “Do me a favor and don’t describe me to her.”

She nods in understanding so I turn and walk away.

Hope she still likes surprises . . .

Chapter Ten

Onyx

Half asleep, I fight to stay awake while finishing up my makeup. As much as I don’t want to be here tonight, I’m up next on stage and I really don’t have much of a choice. A huge part of me wanted to call in tonight, but the other part of me knows I can’t let my emotions get in the way of earning my bill money. Still, I’m just so . . . exhausted.

I crawled out of Hemy’s bed around eight this morning and left while he was too deep in sleep to take notice. I knew I had to get out of there before he woke, or else he would’ve somehow talked me into spending the whole day with him. I couldn’t let that happen. The more he brings up the past and shows me how different he is, the more I want to give in and trust him. It’s too soon for that.

After I got back to my own bed, I thought I would be able to get some rest, but I couldn’t shut my mind off enough to fall back asleep. I ended up spending most of the day cleaning a house that was already clean and watching stupid TV shows, hoping they would wear me down enough to sleep. No luck there.

Tossing down my eyeliner, I look over to see if Ash is dressed and ready to go. She’s up for her set on stage after me. I met Ash about a year ago, before I moved back home. We hit it off really fast and after she explained how she was tired of her dull life and her parents smothering her, I thought maybe it would be nice to bring her home with me and let her live a little.

I really had no idea what the hell I was going to do for a job, but then an old friend of mine told me about Vixens needing a couple dancers. I mentioned it to Ash and in her rebellious state she was down for it, and ready to have a little fun. Plus, knowing that I was going to be so close to Hemy kind of made me want to rebel a bit myself. I needed a hard exterior to make me seem less vulnerable. It worked for a while.

“You still like this job, Ash?” I ask, now questioning my decision to bring her here.

Smiling, she sets down her red lipstick and uncrosses her legs. “Yeah, for now. It’s not a bad place. Plus, the money is way better than working some dead end waitressing job.” She shrugs. “Might as well have a bit of fun while I’m still young.”

I return her smile and then look beside us as the door opens and Kylie rushes in. She gives me a not so pleasant look and rolls her eyes. “There’s been a change of plans. You’re not going to be dancing on stage tonight.”

Standing up, I place my hands on my hips and give her an equally disgusted look. Kylie usually seems to be friendly, but right now, I feel like slapping that smug look off her pretty little face.

“And why the hell is that?”

Mumbling under her breath, she tosses me a wad of cash and I reach out, barely catching it. “I can’t believe Roman agreed to this, but someone paid a shit ton of money to have you do a private dance instead. Roman told me to give you a grand to do it.” She turns and starts heading back for the door. “The sexy asshole is waiting in room ten. You probably shouldn’t keep him waiting. Damn asshole,” she mutters and leaves the room.

I hold up the wad of cash and bite my bottom lip in thought. I feel a rush at the thought that Hemy could very well be that sexy asshole waiting on me. The problem with that is I wouldn’t expect him to pay a ton of money for me to dance for him when he knows he can practically get anything he wants. He always did . . . until I left him.

Just as quickly as I let the thought consume me, I push it away and take a deep breath. I guess if anything, it’s still better than being on stage. I still can’t get used to dancing for a room full of men. I seem to do better one on one. Plus, it’s easier to stay in command when you only have one asshole to deal with.

Handing the cash to Ash, I force a smile. “Mind putting that away for us? Looks like I have a sexy asshole waiting for a show.”

We both laugh as I start backing away.

“Seems like a pretty generous asshole at least.” She lifts a brow and waves the cash. “Tell him thanks from the both of us. I’ll be lucky to make half that on stage.”

Gathering my thoughts, I take my time walking to room ten. If this asshole was desperate enough to pay the amount of money this had to have cost, then he’s desperate enough that he’ll wait and still enjoy it when I get there.

Walking past the main room, I see it’s almost filled to capacity now. The music is loud, the men are loud, and the flashing lights make it harder to concentrate on what’s on stage. I guess the strobe effects and beat of the music make it more exciting for the men, and to make them feel they have to fight in order to see the half naked girls swaying before them. It keeps them around longer, wanting to see more. That’s what Roman thinks, at least. I think it’s annoying as shit.

I make it down the hall and stop directly in front of the door, labeled with the number ten, staring for a moment before pushing the door open and stepping inside. I close the door behind me and try not to pay attention to who is in the room.

Room ten is the biggest private room we have. It’s used for rich clients that want to remain discrete and don’t want their faces shown to the public. Off in the back of the room, there’s a huge leather chair for the client to relax in, and a light switch, giving them the option of showing their face or not. Lucky for me, this client wants to be kept a secret. It makes it easier to dance when I don’t have to look into the creepy eyes that are glued to my every move. It’s hard to be sexy when you feel so damn gross sometimes, as if the filth is sticking to you just by being in the room.