How I Became Lotus Raine...the Porn Star (23 page)

“Are you okay?” I heard Reggie ask as she took a spot next to me. She wrapped her arm around me and brought me in for a side hug. She knows me all too well.

“Yeah. I just feel so out of place.” I didn’t tell her the full truth. That I hated all the attention Brent was getting. It made me insecure and guessing why he’d even want to mess around with someone like me when he had an endless used car lot of bimbos. There I went being judgmental again. A used car lot full of mostly gorgeous bimbos who had certain exterior parts upgraded. That was as nice as my mind was getting for the night.

Jealousy is a tricky bitch.

“How about let’s go in.” I looked over eying her suspiciously. “For real, Lucy. You need a drink. Hell, I need a drink.”

Four strong drinks later and I was almost oblivious to our surroundings. At least that didn’t bother me anymore. Reggie kept me entertained in the form of liquor and pointing out hot guys while we sat at the bar in Stan’s house, getting drunk.

“Ohh, what about him?” I followed the direction Reggie’s finger was pointed and shook my head.

“No way. You can do better than that,” I giggled.

“Perfect,” I heard her coo. “That’s the guy. If I was able to leave here tonight, I’d leave with him.” I looked over at my bestie who was biting her lip in lust over some man who was most likely a porn star. Hello, porn party. There I went assuming again.

I finally looked over wanting to see who was causing Reggie to salivate. My eyes came into contact with a pair of green ones and I damn near fell out of my stool.

Giving a nervous wave, I leaned into Reggie and attempted to whisper, but it didn’t work. “Umm, that’s Tyson.”

She broke her stare to look at me. She didn’t even have to ask how I knew his name. “That’s who Brent thinks we should have our threesome with,” I shrugged like it was no big deal. I mean, nothing had happened thus far.

“Shut the fuck up.” She smacked my arm and it wasn’t a friendly love tap. She full on slugged me. But I was too drunk to care.

“Guess I should have told you sooner,” I admitted as I rubbed my arm.

“You think? I did help you come up with that damn list, anyway.” I heard her little diva attitude poking its way around.

“I told you Brent was helping me cross each off. The threesome hasn’t even happened yet.” I hopped off the stool and grabbed her arm. “Come on. I’ll introduce you. He has a nice penis.” That is something I made sure to notice when Brent showed me a few guys he could ask. Her eyes widened and I knew exactly why.

I turned around and was face to face with Tyson. He had heard me brag about his penis. Way to keep the night going smoothly. But instead of getting embarrassed like typical Lucy would, I laughed. In that moment, I didn’t care that he heard what I thought about his dick.

Tyson was eyeing me with a cocky smile and I just shrugged. “Well, it’s true.” I turned back around and downed the rest of my drink. “I don’t think we’ve officially met.” I held out my hand and Tyson took it with a smile. “I’m Lucy Rogers.”

“Tyson Douglas.” He shook with a confident grip. “Who’d you come here with tonight?” He leaned in close to my ear.

“Bre—” I quickly corrected myself. “We came with Cruz Storm.”

“Good luck leaving with him. Roxy hasn’t left his side since he showed up.” I rolled my eyes. I haven’t talked to Brent since she showed. I did a quick glance around and spotted Brent and the red bimbo near the staircase laughing it up with an entourage like they were some power porn couple. “She seems to think his return is her big ticket back into the limelight as well.” Tyson rolled his gorgeous green eyes and the gesture made me smile. He didn’t seem to like her as well. It made me like him. It definitely sealed his fate to take part in crossing a threesome off my list.

Tyson didn’t look shocked how Roxy was clinging to Brent for dear life. He didn’t look apologetic either, knowing that Brent is who I’d come with. I’m sure showing up with someone and leaving with someone else was a normal for these types of events.

“It was nice meeting you in person, Tyson. I have a feeling we’ll be meeting up again soon,” I winked.

I was pissed. I had gotten dragged to a stupid event and ditched. The only thing I was happy about was the fact that he had the decency to bring my best friend as well. I’m sure he knew I was going to be left to fend for myself if he didn’t. At least he took that into consideration.

I turned around, ordering two more shots. I downed one and then the other as Reggie was reaching for it.

“Greedy much?” she complained.

I was about to order us more shots, then Reggie and I heard it at the same time. Our inner Britney and Rhianna’s were begging to be released and we gave in as we started dancing with one another. Tyson didn’t seem to mind the show. I had no idea if Brent could even see us or cared for that matter.

I did a quick glance around hoping that maybe he was nearby, close enough for me to walk up to and start grinding on instead of Reggie. Maybe even deck a particular red head while I was at it. But, he was nowhere to be seen. It only fueled my fire even further as I grabbed Reggie’s arm, dragging her with me as I made my way to the stripper pole I’d spotted. I hadn’t been to class in a week and the withdrawal was terrible.

We both placed our hands on it and started dancing together with it between us. I wanted to have that pole between my legs and slide my body around it. My inner stripper was begging me to release her—without the stripping part of course. I lifted my leg, the side with the slit in the dress, and held it against the cool bar. Reggie backed up a bit, nodding her head in encouragement. She was proud. Her eyes were as bright as her smile at the fact that she was first hand witnessing me cracking even more away at the shell I had placed around myself. My best friend had a front row seat to the show, and I planned on giving her one hell of one.

But before I could, I felt strong arms wrap around my waist and hot breath dance across my neck. “Let’s get you home, Lu.” I wanted to protest, to fight him away so I could continue with what I was about to do. But a small voice told me to just let go. Another voice brought to my attention of Brent giving me his own nickname. That voice made me lean into him and melt my body against his in agreement as he walked us out. I smiled and made sure I walked without stumbling as we left. I wasn’t there to embarrass him.

“WAS IT AS awful of an experience as it sounds?” Shepard asks sincerely. He almost looks slightly sympathetic like I lost my puppy and he feels bad for me.

“Let me start by saying it wasn’t a complete disaster. I obviously was out of my comfort zone. The only reason I didn’t bolt out the door was because of Reggie. How it made me feel after the fact is what I hated about it. The combination between the sexual atmosphere, jealousy, alcohol, and lots more jealousy led me to almost making a fool out of myself that night.”

“But who’s to say you would have made a fool out of yourself?”

“You’re right. To the outsiders there, I wouldn’t have. I would have owned that pole and most likely been applauded. If I was going to publicly dance on a pole, that would have been the perfect place to do so.”

“Then what was the problem?” Shepard asks as he analyzes my behavior.

“I felt dirty.”

“OH GOD.” I shot up in bed. I wasn’t in my room, and the dress I had last night had been taken off and replaced with a plain white tee. I was in Brent’s room. And wearing one of his shirts.

“You okay?” he asked, sitting up next to me. Tears started to well up in my eyes. Fucking tears. I didn’t want to cry. I definitely didn’t want to cry in front of him.

I held my hand over my mouth as I shook my head.

“Come on, Lu. Talk to me.” There it was. He used it again and I broke down remembering the state I was in the first time he had.

I jumped out of bed, needing to get away. Bits and pieces of the prior night started filing in and I couldn’t stay in his room any longer knowing that he witnessed my near downfall. He had actually prevented it. I needed to thank him. Tell him thank you for not letting me make a total ass out of myself, but I couldn’t find the words. He kept asking what was wrong, even got up and tried to stop me. I got dressed and promised him we’d talk later—after I had time to process everything I was feeling. He nodded and let me go, knowing that wasn’t the time to push me to stay.

I didn’t know where I was headed when I got in my car and started it. I just knew I needed to clear my head and get a grip on things. I was tampering in his lifestyle—the one he chose—and I was slightly scared that when it was all said and done and he was back into porn and I was back in my office, that the toll this week has taken on me would be irreversible.

The studio was empty when I arrived. I knew I had the rest of the morning to myself. I wasn’t sure what to make of my previous night’s behavior. Funny how almost jumping on a pole the night before led me right back to one. But at least the one I was eyeing in the studio was private, strictly for my eyes only. I was thankful I had left my gym bag in my car last week. The jeans and t-shirt I was wearing wouldn’t be very pole dancing savvy.

It wasn’t the dance that I craved about the pole. It wasn’t even particularly the sexuality it screamed. I did feel sexy anytime I moved my body around one, but that wasn’t the appeal either. Seeing my mom dance when I was younger created the desire within me. Not for attention or money purposes like her. The desire made me feel like I was corrupted and destined to work a pole for income when I was of age.

I didn’t want to dance around a pole in some costume, prancing around a stage collecting dollar bills slimy men threw my way. Granted all weren’t sleaze balls, the result of them watching me would be the end result all the same. I didn’t get how my mother never felt demeaned in her profession.

No matter how hard I tried to push away things that stemmed from my childhood, I could never push away my need to feel the pole. I saw it differently than she had. I didn’t see it as a form of manipulation to gain things in life. I saw it as a form of self-expression. I saw it as some sort of capsule that I could release stuff I pent up into. I saw it as a form of cleansing. Not only did it strengthen my body, it strengthened my soul.

My mom used to be hateful in her ways. Not only did I basically raise myself since she was too involved with the booze, men, and drugs that came along with her job, she’d taunt me when she would come around to play mom.

She’d always say things like, “It’s in your DNA, child.” She had told me that so much that I had begun to believe her. I started getting sexually acquainted with my body at a young age—an age I knew others around me weren’t. That alone made me feel dirty. I knew how to make my body feel good, and it made me feel ashamed.

With age, I learned to tame myself. I didn’t deprive myself because I wanted control. Deprivation leads to binges and binges lead to going over the edge. I couldn’t risk that. I dated safe guys I knew could deliver enough to take the edge off, but not enough for me to know what I was missing and want it even more so. I touched my self at times because touching yourself in private is safe. And I took pole dancing classes to tame the temptress within me.

I balanced my desires, feeding them just enough to keep them alive like they were my prisoner. When in fact, I was theirs.

My mind played over and over, reminding me of why I was the way I was. I tried to work it out into some logical format that would make it explainable, but I’m not sure anyone will understand.

“I really don’t know why you won’t just teach a class with me already.” I heard from behind as I hung upside down with my legs split. Mikal walked in with a smile, not looking a day over twenty-five.

I twisted my legs around the pole and let go with my hands and I arched my body out. I firmly held my body out as I lightly loosened my legs, sliding the rest of the way down the pole. I’d really been working on my stamina the last couple months.

“I wouldn’t be a very good teacher.” I turned the CD player off and grabbed a towel.

“I think it’s more than that that keeps you from trying it out.” She gave me a knowing look.

“You’re right.” I take a huge drink from my water bottle. “It is.”