Worth It

Age old reason

"Welcome to the private rooms, Patrick." Darcy entered into a VIP lounge essentially, with plush velvet couches lining the walls, a pole in the center, champagne on ice on a table in the corner, and optional black lights. Patrick stepped inside feeling all air in the room leave once the door closed behind him. It was extremely hot, and Patrick knew there was sweat rolling down his back by now as he made his way to a couch. Darcy brought over a champagne flute,

"Champagne?" She asked, taking a sip out of her own. Patrick did a double take, but didn't question the dancer for drinking. He accepted the flute, grinning.

"Thank you, uh Darcy. " Patrick struggled to say her name. It felt unnatural, only that he knew she had a real name. A basic name. What like Britney? Taylor? Katelyn? He stared at her, the dark curly wig, the slender frame, and her beautiful green eyes.

"Darcy. You're pondering my real name huh? I don't lap dance and tell unfortunately," Darcy giggled as the music began pouring out from surround sound speakers. Her dancing started immediately, and so did Patrick's dollar bill tips. If one hit the floor she would bend as far as she could down, snatching it and placing it in her full cleavage. She came closer, hands on the arm rests of the chair, hooking her legs around his before hovering over his crotch. Patrick ran a hand through his hair as his arousal caught up with him, an obvious bulge in his jeans showing. Darcy smirked, rotating her hips before actually sitting on him. Lap dances were subject to be questionable, there was a no touching rule Patrick had a feeling this girl was breaking but also he wanted it. She placed her hands on his neck, teasing the curls at the nape as she rised and lowered.

"Fuck," Patrick bit his lip, incredibly turned on. The entire club smelt smoky and gross but the closer Darcy got the more he could smell her flowery perfume. The music sped up, so Darcy moved faster, teasing him with a feather light stroke over his growing crotch.   Patrick gulped, feeling his body ache. She had almost made him come in his pants. Shit.

She bounced up and down, and Patrick didn't know what came over him as his hands went to her hips and he pushed her down onto his crotch. Darcy let out a moan, throwing her head back and her wig. The dark curly wig went flying with a wig cap in tow as long blonde waves cascaded down her back, and bangs in her eyes.

"Fuck!" She jolted off of him, and Patrick blushed, feeling embarrassed. Had he gone too far? She grabbed her wig, and realized the cap had a hole in it and there was no way to put all her hair under the wig by itself. Darcy turned to face the door. She couldn't have him knowing her identity.

"Sorry...did I do something? I'd like that to continue if you didn't-"

"My wig is off which means you've seen my identity which means you gotta fuckin go." Darcy said, this has never happened to her. She was the club's it girl, golden girl, she didn't fuck up.

"I don't even live in Boston. My best friends just chose here to have part of my bachelor party because it seemed cool. I mean I know you're a real person Darcy, and your hair is well...beautiful I mean I was turned on by you brunette but you're sexy as hell blonde." Patrick tried to talk her down. She stalked towards an exit door, a cig in her hand.

"Listen I don't need your I can save you bullshit. I'm a dancer and I dance well because my waitress job tanked when we lost the bar, I'm paying my way to becoming an actress which is why you can't see this face. And I need a damn cig and I can't fucking go out because I don't have a wig on!" Darcy rambled, hands on her hips. Patrick rose a brow,

"Actress? Hang on I can get you an agent and-" he was stopped by a knock on the door. Darcy threw her wig on over her blonde, but it looked terrible as she opened the door.

"Sir this is a private room-" Darcy barked as a tall man with cropped dark hair poked his head in.

"I gotta collect Paddy, sorry lady, come on man we gotta head out, to the hotel-" he apologized and whistled at Patrick.

"Oh shut up!" He replied, collecting himself. His friend chuckled, eying his pants.

"You want to make a stop in the little boys room to take care of that or?"

Patrick got up, adjusting his very tight pants, and followed his friend out. He looked at Darcy one more time, studying her. Those green eyes, the button nose, and her freckles that concealer didn't catch...they all had the mark of an actress.