Big Joe pulls the door open and waits for me to walk past him. “You’re the first dancer we’ve hired in a while.”
I can’t argue with that, but I think we both know what’s going on. In fact, I think the entire room knows what is going on. It’s not my imagination that the other dancers and people in the backstage area get quiet. I reach the door and glance behind me. Every dancer here who’s putting on makeup or just taking a cigarette break have stopped to stare at me. The room that was crazily busy just a minute before is now deathly still and quiet.
“Hurry up, Ana. Mr. Anthes doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”
I pull my robe tighter around me. I’m annoyed enough that I will give him his dance, one he won’t forget any time soon.
Nerves are trying to get the better of me as I stop by the small rack that contains my costumes. I grab one that makes me laugh. I think it fits Roman. Then, I grab the royal blue G-string and ignore the way it reminds me of Roman’s eyes. Right now I have one goal in mind: make Roman see what he’s missing and leaving him with his jaw dropped. I can do that. I mean, it’s just tempting and teasing. That should be easy enough.
I waste no time getting dressed, then make my way to the private room closed off from the rest of the club. I stop at the door and inhale. Then, I push onward. My entrance is a side door that’s designed for the bouncers and dancers only, completely closed off from the dancing area and surrounded by one-way glass that allows you to see into the room. Safety. It allows the dancers to see who they will be performing for first, a precaution that Roman himself put in when one of the girls had trouble with a crazy stalker-fan. Back when Big Joe was trying to convince me to dance, he told me everything, thinking it would make me more comfortable. It’s not about the dancing, though. It’s boundaries. Dancing for someone personally feels like I’m giving a piece of myself I shouldn’t. This job already does that little by little. Still, Roman thinks he can take what he wants when he wants? I’ll let him know that goes both ways. I thumb through the preloaded music and pick the one I want. Normally there’s someone controlling the music, but Big Joe said Roman wanted privacy. Bastard.
The music starts pouring out of the sound system. That’s my cue. The moment of truth. I walk out.
“You’ve kept me waiting, pet.”
I inwardly grit my teeth and ignore him. In fact, I give him my back, trying to gather my nerves. I let my body loosen up, sinking into the music and getting lost. My hips start moving to the beat and I admit I give my ass a little extra kick when I move it in rhythm to the music, knowing it’s mere inches from his face.
I can’t help but wonder if he likes my costume.
The fucking tease!
Ana comes in the room and my dick instantly comes to life. I thought she would wear one of the sequined costumes that the dancers usually wear. Ana surprises me by wearing a school girl outfit. Long white sleeved shirt, buttoned low and revealing the valley of her breasts. The plaid mini skirt barely covers her ass. Her hair is pulled up high on her head in a ponytail and she’s wearing these fake glasses. About the only diversion from the normal costume are the stiletto heels. She’s so fucking hot that I want her right now. When she turns her back to me and starts dancing, rolling her ass in a slow groove, I nearly groan.
I make a living owning strip clubs. I run one of the biggest underground gambling casinos around. I have cage fighters, betting clubs, women for select clientele, and even a bail bonding business. I have my fingers in all kinds of pies and each one is different and offers something useful. It’s all business. I keep it entirely separate from anything personal. That being said, not once have I ever been tempted to taste the merchandise involved in any of the businesses. Not until Ana. She has me breaking my own rules. And with all the women who work for me, there hasn’t been one until now who can turn me on by the sway of her hips.
When she turns around, pulling one leg up high and moving it over mine so she can straddle it, it takes all of my self-control not to pounce. The reward comes when she puts both hands on my shoulders, continuing to circle her hips. She bends into my ear and says nothing, but I can feel her hot breath. I need more. I thought men who came here for this kind of thing were pathetic. Why waste your time on a fantasy when you could have the real thing at home?
Not only am I seeing the error in my thinking, I’m wondering just where I might play with Ana again.