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The same car awaited outside the club, me and Bubbles walked out through the employee door

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The same car awaited outside the club, me and Bubbles walked out through the employee door.

Well I walked out, following a suited man. She was just following behind me.

I have no idea why I feel this way.

I mean, jealousy ain't me.

But...I dunno.

He'd grupple her ass, not mine.

What's wrong with my ass?

He'd look at every other dancer in the room but not a me.

What's wrong with my face?

I look girly enough.

Well, maybe not as well defined as them other strippers or whatever.

I don't have dd breasts or a busty butt, botoxed cheeks and lips.

But Bubbles, even with her weirdly pouffy pink hair looked much better then me.

There was no doubt she was better looking then me.

She turned heads on the stage. Including Roman's.

The suited man left me near the car without a word and helped Bubbles find her ride.

I take they take care of their strippers slash dancers slash titty shakers in the cages.

Taking a refreshing breath, I grab the handle if the door and pull it open, slipping inside.

It smelled highly of tobacco and marijuana.

I crinkled my nose and lead back against the black leather covered seat to work out the kink on my back.

The door of the other side opened and Roman's form slipped inside the car, sitting beside me heaving a ribbon of smoke and polluting the somewhat oxygen left in the car.

Must he be such a cock?

A tiny limp one, might I add.

The driver slid on the driver's side next and Roman gave the blurry man a go ahead with a jerk of his wrist as he smoked what was remains of his cigarette or whatever.

Why is he coming with me anyway?

Doesn't he have work to do?

Or a car of his own?

So poor.

A mob boss without a branded car.

A snort laugh left my mouth but I composed myself just fine.

"Something finny, cucciolo?" He rasped. "Why are you laughing like you have no tongue?"

Who even says that?

That's so...abnormal.

"Are you mad?" He asked twisting his God like built body to face me. Cigarette still in hand, a ribbon of smoke dancing on air.

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