Tonight, I finished up on the pole and then made my way to the edge of the stage. Making eye contact with one of the men at the front of the stage, I pointed at him and beckoned him closer. I dropped to my knees and thrust my pelvis in his direction, and indicated that he could tip me if he wanted. He greedily laid his hand on my leg and then slid it up my body to place a twenty in my g-string. I smiled at him and then pointed at another guy who did the same. Moving along the stage, I let numerous guys tip me in this manner. They were going wild, and the atmosphere in the club intensified to a point of frenzied excitement. Finally, I stood and seductively walked back to my pole before taking a bow and exiting the stage.
The security guy met me at the back of the stage and escorted me out to the staff room where I grabbed a water and collapsed into a chair. The performance had taken it out of me; perhaps because I’d been so worked up about Nash and had thrown that into the dance.
Just as I was thinking about him, Nash barrelled through the door, a wild look on his face. “What the fuck was that, Velvet?” he roared.
He was exuding anger to an intensity I’d never encountered with him. It should have scared the hell out of me, but instead it turned me on. Fuck, it turned me on to the point where all rational thought flew out the window and all I could think about was his cock inside me.
While I was struggling to push thoughts of his dick aside, he yelled at me again, “Are you going to fuckin’ answer me?”
I snapped out of my trance and got back in the conversation. “That was my new dance. Did you like it?” I knew I was playing with fire, and that turned me on too.
“Whether I liked it or not is beside the point. What I want to know is why the hell you broke the rules and let those assholes touch you?”
“It’s my job, Nash. I’m a stripper, and strippers get touched. Did you forget that?”
He scowled. “I fuckin’ know that, but you don’t get touched on the stage.”
I pushed my face closer to his. “You mean, I don’t get touched where you can see it. If it’s away from your eyes and you don’t have to deal with it, then you’re okay with it.”
Shit, where had that come from?
His eyes blazed and he blew out some heavy breaths before saying, “I’m your boss and I say no fuckin’ touching on the stage. Are we clear?”
“You can’t be serious. You’re going to pull the boss card?” I challenged him.
“I am the boss and you will do what I say,” he laid down the law.
I glared at him for a moment before saying, “Fuck you, asshole.” I turned my back and covered the distance to my locker to grab my bag. After I’d retrieved it, I turned back to him and spat, “And thanks for being a great friend and running off after you screwed me.”
Without giving him time to say anything more, I left the club. I hadn’t even finished my shift but there was no way I was sticking around to cop more of his crap.
Chapter 10
Broken-Hearted Girl ~ Beyonce
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Nash
“Nash,” the chick whined, “I want your hands on my tits.”
Christ, she was a needy bitch. “You’ll get my hands when I’m finished with your friend.”
She pouted. “Well hurry up because I’m not going to wait all night for you.”
It crossed my mind that I could care less if she left.
It also crossed my mind that all I was thinking about while her friend gave me a hand job was Velvet.
Fuck.
I pushed the other girl’s hand off my dick and stood. Doing up my jeans, I muttered, “Sorry, girls, but this isn’t going to happen tonight.”
They started complaining but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was going home to try and talk some sense into myself.
It had been four hours since Velvet had walked out on our argument and I hadn’t been able to get her out of my head since. She’d pissed me off and turned me on all in one go. When she’d performed her new dance, the one she hadn’t shown me yet, I’d been surprised, but when she’d let those assholes touch her, I’d been fucking ropable. And then when she accused me of not wanting to see other men touch her, I’d started sprouting some shit about being her boss. We both knew I wasn’t her damn boss but I’d pushed the point, and for the second time this week I’d had no control over what came out of my mouth.
I had good intentions of going home, but some other force took over on the way and fifteen minutes later, I found myself knocking on Velvet’s door.
She took her time, but she eventually answered it. When she realised it was me, she frowned. Her shoulders sagged, and she said, “I don’t have it in me to argue with you anymore tonight, Nash.”
All the fight left me at the sight of her and the sound of defeat in her voice. Fuck, I’d been a bastard to her, and needed to make this right between us. “I’m not here to fight. I need to apologise.”
Defeat gave way to surprise and she stood back, and held the door open for me. I stepped inside and walked down her hallway into her kitchen. I’d been to Velvet’s house a couple of times and was always struck by how similar her taste was to mine. We both liked the minimalist look and white walls. She had some colour splashed throughout but it was fairly simple and I liked that too.
I hit the kitchen and spun around to face her. She was watching me warily and I couldn’t blame her. “I’m sorry for how I treated you tonight. That shit I said about being your boss was a load of crap so just forget I said it, okay?”