p r o l o g u e
Out of all the dancers at the gentlemen's club, the boys all lined up for me. They'd all found me the most intriguing, with my lace stockings and long hair. I even had my own show - the moment when all the lights dimmed and the once eccentric music turned seductive and daunting.
The only light was on me, and I danced as though I were alone. The men got a thrill out of that, as if they were watching something they weren't suppose to. I paid them no attention as I twirled lazily around the pole, letting them know that they were just faces in a crowd and nothing important.
As I climbed the pole, I thought about the way they'd walked in here - so in conrol and cocky. I set them in their place with my lack of affection. I didn't fight for their attention like the others, I made them fight for mine.
Ha.
Men are so easily controlled. A flick of the hair, a raise of the skirt, or a kiss on the neck - and they're putty in our hands.
I slid dangerously close to the ground.
As the silent crowd watched, I raised a long leg, bowing my back until my hair pooled onto the floor. I used my arms to send myself into an elegant backflip. As soon as my stilletoes met the ground, I curled the fingers of my right hand around the pole and then used the last of my strength to lift my legs and spin until I was once again upside down.
I parted my legs to the short raps in the song, like a ticking clock.
I could feel their lustful stares, eyeing every inch of me.
I brought my legs back together and lifted one over my head until my heel touched the ground. The other leg followed, bringing me to my feet with my back facing the crowd.
My audience was noiseless as I took long strides across the runway and disappeared behind the curtains.
And like I was never there, the tinted lights flickered back on and the more popular songs began to play.
I watched them through the curtains.
The men remained quiet for a long time, still staring at my stage as the other dancers returned to their places.
I couldn't help the satisfaction that settled in my veins and reflected in my eyes.
YOU ARE READING
Frost
Romance"I'm nobody's hero, Lenore. Don't expect me to save you." Amos 'Frost' Fitzell is an alcoholic and known gang member, but he's someone who still has morals. Lenore Coon is a stripper. She believes men are all the same. But they somehow both change w...
