Veronica [Zarry]

i think you think too much of me

I'm stunned, frozen in place as the man slings his beer at the bartender. She's completely soaked, mascara smearing but she starts wiping the bar clean, shoulders straight in defiance; a sign of strength.

"You okay darling?"

"I turned him down, he's past his limit," she replies, ignoring my question. "Happens all the time sweetie."

"Harry," I say, flashing a smile.

She just nods, eyes trained on the mess in front of her.

"I don't get paid enough for this," she mutters under her breath. "Never seen you around here," she keeps the conversation going, stopping to glance at me. "Newcomer?"

"Just noved here actually."

"Came for the sights, huh?"

I chuckle before boldly asking "and you've never worked the pole babe?"

"Bartender," she emphasizes with a roll of the eyes. "I'm not allowed to perform."

"Oh," I say with a frown. "Well that's-"

"Veronica," a heavy set woman snaps at her. "Stop flirting and get to serving drinks. You look like a damn mess, clean yourself up for fuck's sake, what am I paying you for tramp?"

"That's why," she sighs.

"You let her treat you like that? Excuse me," I shout, waving the manager back over.

"What can I do for you? Is she bothering you?"

"Not at all. I was just wondering what gives you the authority to speak to her that way. This isn't her fault. She had beer spilled all over her."

"She needs to sweep us the glass and the bar is sticky."

The woman pivots on her heel and leaves a cold gust of wind behind her, making me shiver.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you in trouble."

"Don't be," she shrugs, cursing as she slices her finger on a shard of glass.

She's surprised when I take her hand in mine, wrapping a napkin around her finger to stop the bleeding.

"Thanks Harry...I should get back to mixing. Enjoy yourself tonight."

"You bet," I wink, fighting my way through a crowd to see the stage.

A blonde beauty catches my eye, beckons me with the crook of her finger and the next thing I know, I'm on a chair and she's straddling my lap.

"Here for a good time aren't we," she whispers hotly into the shell of my ear. "I can give you that."

She starts slowly rocking her hips, grinding against me until I'm hard, hands tugging at my curls.

Our make-out session is steamy and her hands slip beneath my shirt, roaming my abs. She feels me out, uses lots of tongue and I feel euphoric.

This is my high.

My hands cup her breasts and she pants out softly. I'm thinking of so many things I'd do to her when raven black hair and caramel skin enters my field of vision. I'm distracted, watching her bend over to serve a round table right up next to the stage. She turns, tending to more people, wearing a radiant smile on her face.

Wow.

She's beautiful, breasts spilling out of her top.

"Sorry, I don't feel too well. Maybe another time babe."

"Yeah okay," she says sweetly.

I slip her some money before heading back to the bar, patiently waiting for a stunnning young lady to take my order.

"Hello again," she laughs. "What can I get for you sweetheart?"

"Are you on the menu by chance?"

"Afraid not," she replies, biting back a grin. "Bourbon? A nice tonic?"

"Nope," I tease, resting my chin in the palm of my hand. "What do you taste like?"

"Wouldn't you like to know? I'll mix up something special for you."

"So you're interested," I ask curiously, arcing a brow.

"Stop," her face flushes. "You're way out of my league anyway."

"How so?"

I'm intrigued, leaning into her over the counter, smirk on my face.

"You don't think you're beautiful?"

"I think," she pauses to collect her thoughts "you think too much of me."

Everything inside of me deflates and I wonder whats going on inside her head.

"Harry," she says softly. "You seem like a halfway decent guy, really. It's just that...I work at a gentleman's club and from the looks of it, you have plenty of other options. Don't play games with me, I am not stupid."

"Did I ever insinuate that," I ask, feeling slightly hurt, slightly offended. "I'm not that kind of guy, you should-"

"Your drink," she interrupts flatly, sliding me a glass.

I'm hesitant to take a sip but am pleasantly surprised. Not too fruity, not too strong. The perfect hardness, with a sweet aftertaste.

"This is really good," I say, tongue trailing over my bottom lip. "So what's the secret?"

"Nothing," she smiles. "I'm good at what I do."

"Ohh, I see," I reply playfully. "Do you like it?"

"Yeah, gets me good tips. What about you?"

"Not important."

"Hmm," she crosses her arms, gives a little huff. "Seems like a double standard."

"I'm a stock broker," I admit cooly, siwrling around my glass.

"Makes sense," she mumbles.

"What was that babe?"

"You're wearing a few thousand dollars worth of jewelry on your fingers but your personality is cheap. The first thing you do is scope out the local gentleman club's because you're all gentleman here, are you not," she comments sarcastically. "But you just can't help it, you're addicted to sex. It's all for the thrill and you don't really care what happens in the morning, you'll throw away wads of cash in the night because you're weak for it...because you've never really fucked right and for now your pockets are full but your insides are empty."

Suddenly, the drink tastes bitter and I'm struggling to swallow it down.

Her eyes are a soft honey, little flecks of gold prettier than any ring.

"You claim to be different and I think maybe you are Harry, you shouldn't be here," her voice breaks on each syllable, tears swimming in her eyes. "Everyone here is filth and I'm right in the middle of it all. Ironically, if I was wearing that," she nods towards the girls on stage "I'd get more respect around here."

"Respect? You think fondling someone is respectful? It's objectification."

"Like I didn't see you earlier-"

"I know it's wrong," I exhale. "It was wrong of me to even come here but I...I'm glad I did," I finish quietly. "You're really special."

"The finest piece of shit on the dung heap."

A/N: *EXHALES*