Gravity (Artistic Pricks Ink Book 1) (5 page)

BOOK: Gravity (Artistic Pricks Ink Book 1)
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Luke Hanlon has me frazzled. The way he looked at me was hot enough to deplete the Ozone Layer. The testosterone that radiates off him is more than an entire room full of bodies on any night at the club. The longer he touched me or watched me, I was bracing myself for him to try to kiss me. Or even worse, for me to kiss him. When he pulled me against him out back, I had imagined what his lips would feel like on mine. Not soft and gentle; I want to feel the nip of his teeth.

Jeez Ki, how long has it been since it was a man giving you an orgasm and not the B.O.B you keep in the nightstand drawer?

Too. Damn. Long.

Once he left, I replayed the moments over and over in my head until I couldn’t take it anymore. I have enough to worry about in my everyday life, I don’t need to add men in my bed to the mix. Since I know they’ve left for the grocery store, I pack up my bag for work. Kelly opens the club just after noon anyway, so it’s the perfect excuse to avoid another run in with my neighbor’s gorgeous son.

Yes, I’m avoiding a man. I scold myself the entire drive into the city about exactly that.

“Ladies, how many times do I need to go over this?” I hear Kelly begin as I walk into the club. “You are the fantasy. The ones controlling the show.” She stops pacing the stage to meet their eyes, her fingers slide up and down the pole almost affectionately. “You make the rules. Why is that?”

The girls look intimidated and they should. Kelly McGlawn was the top of the tier until she retired and opened her own club. Men’s wallets flew open…so did their zippers. Which is why when she married her husband, Jeff, she left the stage for the owner and operator position.

“I make the rules, because I have the pussy,” I shout, dropping my bag beside the bar with a thud.

Kelly’s eyes meet mine, a smile spreading across her face. “Yes!” She exclaims. “The men who come to Heaven on Heels, night after night, want to give all the power to you. They spend all day in their mundane lives dealing with the repetitive cycle they’ve fallen into. It doesn’t matter if their wives are no longer concerned with keeping the home fires burning. If it’s nagging girlfriends, or just the lack of commitment that being with you brings them. They aren’t here for chit chat, they’re here for the tease. That high they get knowing that you expect nothing from them they aren’t already willing to give.”

“Money!” A girl shouts, making me roll my eyes.

“Yes, they’re willing to give you their money.” Kelly admits. “You also get their time, attention, and their devotion.”

“Devotion?” The girl asks and I bite my lip so I don’t laugh at the shocked face Kelly is making. She enjoys this part the most. Training. Explaining how to work the crowd into a frenzy without so much as leaving the comfort of the stage. It’s like Yoda explaining to Luke how to use The Force. Kelly has turned exotic dancing into an art form. That is the only reason she was able to talk me into getting on that stage in the first place. That, and the fact that I make more here than I ever could at a casino or a diner. Besides, I also get to dance.

“Yes, every man will be devoted only to you for the three minutes you dance for him. He only sees you, and as far as he knows, you only see him. Your job, above everything else, is to make every man feel like the only guy in the whole fucking place.”

“You love each man individually with every inch of your body.” I interrupt, quoting her speech by heart. “Every touch of your own hand, a caress for only him. Your mission, if you choose to accept it, is to give them something to spray the sheets with later.”

Kelly gestures to me, nodding her approval. “The Diamond Pussy of Heaven on Heels.” She laughs. “This one has taken the tease and honed it into an art form. My dear Sabrina, has made the men desperate for her and not one has even touched her. The perfect, unattainable fantasy, and yet every man who walks in that door aches to be that pole, to be that hand. Rules here haven’t changed. No drugs, no visible ink, and no drama,” She says, her face going serious. “Your husband, boyfriend, or fuck of the week is not welcome in my club. No exceptions. Any of those being broken will have you gone, immediately. Let’s put on a great show tonight.”

Kelly dismisses the girls before making her way over to me. “You’re early, Ki,” She says, hopping onto the stool, eyeing me suspiciously. Reaching out in front of her, she grabs her lighter and taps it absentmindedly on her cigarette pack.

“Very weird day so far,” I reply, grabbing a water from behind the bar.

Her eyes follow me while she attempts to read me as she always can. “We both know I’m gonna need more than that,” She huffs out teasingly before lighting a smoke. Her brow quirks up at me curiously as she takes a drag. “Let’s have it.”

After explaining, in excruciating detail, everything that happened once I hung up on her Kelly sighs. “A lot of drama for the woman who is determined not to have any.” Looking at her watch, she giggles. “It’s still early, too.”

“There’s no drama here, so no trouble,” I reply, shaking my head adamantly. “Just because all my lady parts were revved up like a fine tuned sports car doesn’t mean that I’m gonna wait in the bushes and jump on his dick the moment he comes to mow his mom’s lawn.” I laugh, even if the thought of Luke shirtless, pushing a mower has me downing my water in rapid gulps.

Sliding to her feet, she cocks her head to the side letting her long blonde hair flip and swish in dramatic fashion. “He won’t be trouble for me Sweetness, but I see a whole mess coming for you if you’re not careful. You look exhausted. Why don’t you take the weekend off? I’m sure we can manage without you for two days. Go sleep in and hell, get laid or something.” She tosses out before heading up the hall, leaving me with my thoughts.

 

 

 

 

***

 

The stage lights dim, my signal to get ready for my last performance of the night. I’ve performed three times already and the crowd is insatiable. The weekends are always crazy, which is why I am shocked Kelly basically demanded I take the time off. Slipping into my gold stilettos, I blow out a breath and turn on my alter-ego. The minute the music starts, I become someone else.

Sabrina consumes me as I step in time with the horns and percussion onto the stage. Tempting every man in the place to be naughty with me. The raspy female voice pleading for attention and the ability to blow their minds. To suck them in and become everything they need for the four minutes the song lasts. Every eye in the place is on me as I grab the pole and swivel my hips, giving them all a perfect view of my ass in nothing but a short, gold baby doll nightie and thong. Balancing on my toes, I move my hips letting them grind against the metal. The men are watching me hungrily, as if I could make all their wet dreams come true. It could be flattering, almost.

Untying the bow at my chest; I let the fabric fall to the floor, baring my breasts to the crowd. Moving to the music, I give them all what they want. My hands slide along my bared skin, touching all the places they are desperate to feel. My mind wanders as I flow through the routine. Simply going through the motions as I find myself remembering Luke’s hands on me this morning. The feel of him holding me in his arms, his lips dangerously close to mine. Yes, I’m lusting after a man while a crowd full of men lust over me as I dance.

I bring my leg up against the pole with no effort at all, my body nearly doing the splits as I spin along the metal. Curving my knee, I clench my thighs, holding myself firm in the air. My fingers skimming along my breasts and down to my abdomen, stopping just shy of the edge of my panties. If it were possible every man in the audience would look like a cartoon character, tripping over their tongues. It’s laughable. They throw all their money at us, and for what? A few minutes and a cheap thrill. Fine with me, I’ve got bills to pay and I get to dance every night. So, in my book, everybody wins here.

Dropping to my feet, I clutch the bar above my head. My hips rocking back and forth to the music, rolling and thrusting in all the right angles. Giving them the show they need, that sneak peek of the flesh they crave. Painting on lust filled eyes, I roam over the faces in the crowd. Not bothering to stop on one for more than a few seconds. Rolling to the floor, I shift arching my back to give them all the shot they came here for.

The second the music ends, so does Sabrina’s moment to shine. I walk off the stage and head for my dressing room. Yanking my black wig off, I toss it to the vanity before rinsing the make-up from my face. I kick out of my heels and pull on a camisole and a pair of yoga pants before slumping into the chair in front of the mirror. Blowing out a ragged breath, I stare at my reflection. Scrutinizing every detail of myself now that Sabrina has been washed down the drain.

The double life is what I do to protect myself. When I am done with this, I don’t want it being all that I am seen as. I’m here, this is what I have to do in order to dance now. No sense dwelling on the past, regrets are nothing but a waste of time. I can’t change anything. Not losing my mother, or even my accident. Things happen for a reason. It has made me stronger to handle whatever comes along. If I hadn’t nearly drowned in all the darkness then I wouldn’t truly be grateful for what good I do have in my life. Sabrina was born because, one day, if I have a family, I don’t want to be defending myself and my past at P.T.A. meetings.

Yes, several members of the school board are some of our nightly regulars. Along with law enforcement, lawyers, politicians, and numerous others. Sin City couldn’t be a more accurate description. Those are some awkward ‘don’t I know you?’ conversations I don’t want to have.

The door behind me opens and in walks Doug. “Here you go, Darlin’,” He says sweetly, handing me the envelope. Every night the same: I dance, they pick up the money, and Doug brings it to me in an envelope.

“Thanks Doug,” I reply, waiting for what I know is coming. Every night, the same damn thing.

“I know you don’t wanna hear it, but…” He continues, watching my reflection in the mirror. “That guy Mitch is out there again. He’s offerin’ at least six hundred bucks for a private with you. Asshole is nearly plastered already. Do I get rid of him as usual?”

Meeting his gaze in the mirror, I blow out an exasperated breath. “Yes, please tell him
again
that I don’t take on private clients. It’s not about money, it’s just something I won’t do.” Doug nods in silent agreement. Just like every other night since Mitch has begun asking for ‘private dances’ from me. No one in their right mind offers that much and comes into it expecting only a damn dance. Sure money talks and makes the world go round, but there are some things that mean more to me than money. My self-worth is one of them. Maybe one of the other girls will take the opportunity to make some extra cash, but not me.

“I’ll take care of it.” Doug assures me before leaving the room.

Opening the envelope, I count the money I made tonight and start figuring my bills in my head. Making sure that I know, down to the penny, how much I will have left. The two days I am going to miss will pinch if I’m not careful, but it will be worth it. Maybe I can get a grip on reality and some sleep.

Pushing to my feet, I grab my bag and shove into my sneakers before heading out the door. Avoiding the stage access, I hurry down the hall and out the back door into the alley. Determined to get the hell out of here before Kelly tries to talk me into another encore.

“Why didn’t you wait until I came to walk you out?” The voice startles me to the point that I drop my bag to the pavement.

Whipping around, I come face to face with Doug. “Shit, you scared the hell out of me,” I gasp, clutching my chest.

Dropping a cigarette at his feet, he stomps it out with his boot. His smile softens as he steps further into the light. “Sorry, Ki.” He says softly, holding up his hands in surrender trying to put me at ease. “You shouldn’t be walking out here alone. We’re here to protect you girls for a reason, you know?”

“I’m fine, but thanks,” I reply, scooping up my bag. “See ya Monday.”

“Huh,” He stammers. “You’re not working all weekend?”

“Nope,” I reply. “Boss lady’s orders.”

“Wow,” Doug says, sounding surprised. “I’m off tomorrow night, you wanna hang out?”

“I’m um,” I start, shuffling backward nervously.

“Great so we can do dinner, or a movie. Well, both if you want.”

Doug takes a step forward and I know I have to stop this. Now. “I really can’t Doug,” I explain, holding up my hand. “I’m really sorry, I’m just not in a place in my life right now for that. Besides, I think Kelly’s rules would come into play there, don’t you?”

His face hardens, the smile that was just there turns cold and harsh making me take a few steps backwards toward my car. He must notice my unease because he forces a grin and nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right, Ki. See ya Monday then.”

Turning away, I climb into my car. I don’t look back, but I know Doug is watching me as I pull out onto the street. He’s always watching us girls, making sure we’re safe. Rolling the windows down, I slam on the gas pedal unable to get away from the club fast enough. The air hits my face, loose strands of my hair whipping around me as I turn the corner.

I wasn’t lying to Doug. I know he likes me, but even if I didn’t work closely with him I don’t see myself dating him. He is a friend, and I trust him more than most people. There is nothing wrong with him, at least from what I know about him. Right now, there is just no room in my life for someone else. Even if I could use the non-battery induced orgasm, I don’t want the drama that comes along with a relationship or the risk of losing my ability to dance.

Those labels change things. Once you start forming attachments, people change. There are expectations, you put faith and hope in people. Relying on each other. I’ve never had that with a man. Mom and I managed and we were happy. Losing her taught me that in the end all I have is me. People leave, whether they want to or not. It’s your choice to make your way once they do. My life isn’t ideal, but it’s mine. No disrupting whatever whacked out balance I do have. Sex is just sex. As meaningless as that makes it seem. Of course I miss it, even if it conflicts with my job right now. I can’t risk someone I’ve slept with staking claim and walking into the club. That would be a monumental fuck up.

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