“I know, doll. I know. Let’s see what magic ol’ Joyce can work to hide those bags,” she says with a sigh, going to work on my face.
Twenty minutes later, Joyce manages to pull off a minor miracle and make me look good. I go to the wings of the stage and wait for my cue. Once I’m out there, I do my best to let everything go. I let the music take over and go through my routine like a well-seasoned veteran. I should be; I’ve been dancing for nine years now. I started before I was legal. It’s amazing what fake IDs and bosses who don’t give a fuck will get you. I can work the pole and I can shake the ass. I can do everything needed to make men horny and women beg for more. I can even look like I’m enjoying it when inside I’m slowly withering away. My set ends with yelling for more. I never give them that. Isn’t that an age old adage? Always leave them wanting more? I blow them a kiss and walk off, appearing unconcerned that my breasts are completely bare as my ass, except for a small string of material. Big Joe puts the white silk robe around me and I lean up to kiss his cheek.
“Thanks, big guy,” I tell him. He knows I hate being nude. In fact, I hate everything about dancing. I did it for a few months when I hit sixteen. I needed the money to keep a roof over our heads because our strung-out mother was spending every dime she could on her next hit. You have to do what you have to do. When mom almost overdosed and did permanent damage to herself, I got free of her, in a way, and found new paths. Allen never bothered, instead following in mom’s footsteps. So here I am, dancing and trying to save my brother who is already too far gone.
“Another great show as always, Ana.”
I squeeze his arm like I always do and disappear to my dressing room. I have one more set to do tonight, and then I can leave. I need to try and search for Allen some more, or try old contacts I haven’t used in years. I can’t remember the last time I’ve slept. My mind churns through all the chaos that is my life and just won’t shut down long enough to allow sleep.
I sit down at the chair in front of my dressing table. Joyce hands me a cigarette and a light, which I gratefully take. It’s a routine of mine. I always have a smoke after I dance. The nicotine helps me to calm. It’s the only crutch I allow myself. I take a drag and my head goes back, eyes closing, and I try my best to squash down the panic over Allen. I’ve tuned out the room, so when a large hand wearing one lone insignia ring on his finger reaches over and takes away the cigarette, I’m unprepared.
“Sorry, you’re not supposed to be back here,” I say, annoyed, and look around for Joyce to signal for Joe. “And can I please have my cigarette back?”
“No.”
“No?” I ask the big tall mountain of a man. He’s easily six foot five, but he’s broad as a house. He’s got dark hair that’s cut close to his head in the back and a little longer on top, dark eyes, and he wears a suit that probably cost more than my entire budget for food did the last two months combined. He screams money. Worse, he screams danger.
“My woman doesn’t smoke. That was your last one.”
“Your woman?” I ask. Something about the way he says that seems like it’s a done deal in his mind and my heart speeds up against my chest. Fuck. Where is Joe? “Listen, I don’t know who you think you are, but—”
“That’s easy, Ana. I own you,” he answers, and his words strike fear deep inside of me.
So much for keeping my head down and not drawing any attention.
I watch her eyes dilate with my announcement. Her breathing hitches in her chest. Fear. It can be the biggest aphrodisiac there is. At least for me. Ana’s picture didn’t do her justice. She’s fucking delicious. A tad too skinny, but she has a plump round ass that I plan to leave pink with my handprints, and tits that beg a man to fill his mouth with them and bite, marking them. Strangely enough, the part of her body that draws most of my attention is her neck. It’s long and slender, the delicate bones and corded muscle calling to the animal inside of me, and I want to clamp my teeth there every fucking day, leaving a bruise to broadcast to any fucking person around, man or woman, that she’s taken. My dick, the stupid fuck, jerks again. He’s been standing at attention ever since I saw Ana’s picture, and being this close to her is just making it worse.
“Ready to go?” I ask, my voice brusque. I’m so fucking hard it’s painful. I plan on pounding into that body and leaving her so sore, she won’t walk right for a week. It will serve her right for tying my dick up in knots.
“Go?”
“Yeah, pet, we have somewhere we need to go.”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. I don’t know you. If you don’t leave right now, I’ll call Big Joe in here to deal with you,” she huffs, and those eyes grab my attention. Her file said violet, and maybe they are, but right now I’d swear I could see sparks of silver. I’ve never seen anything like them before, and I’ve always been the kind of man who likes to collect rare finds.