by A. T Brennan
“They’re thirsty as shit. You’ll make a killing.” He grinned under his thick goth makeup.
“Fucking A,” I muttered and glanced at Angel. “Let’s go make some cash.”
“Fuck, yeah.” He smacked me on the ass as he darted around me. “Come on, boy. It’s time to give these men a show.”
Stifling a giggle, I followed him out onto the stage. Tonight was going to be fun, and hopefully lucrative.
BY THE TIME I GOT HOME, I was dead tired, but happy.
Angel and I had made a killing in tips. The men had loved our role play, and Angel had come twice while we were dancing, which had driven everyone insane and brought in even more money.
Near the end of our first set, Angel had bitten my ear, our sign that he wanted me to help him come. Feeling bold and more than a little horny myself, I’d grabbed him and laid him on the floor so I could grind on him until he’d hit his orgasm. I’d been close myself, but I’d held back. I had no trouble coming on cam, but the club wasn’t my thing like it was for Angel.
In our last set, we switched roles, and I’d played the passive part, and when Angel had bitten my ear again, I’d let him bend me over and frot against my ass until he’d finished.
Angel and I were friends, and while I thought he was hot, I didn’t want to fuck him. He wasn’t my type, and I wasn’t his, but our chemistry worked on stage, and it got us tips, so we were happy to explore and exploit it.
As I fell into bed, I made sure to set the alarm on my phone. I needed to do groceries and a few other errands, and finish a project tomorrow, so I couldn’t sleep in. I was going to be tired, but I had shit I had to do, so I’d have to deal.
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WITH you and that phone? You watching porn?” Angel asked. We had about twenty minutes to kill before our set began, and I was once again staring at Zander’s number wondering if he was ever going to text me.
“It’s a guy, isn’t it?” Angel flopped down on the loveseat I was sitting on and gave me a sympathetic look.
“It’s a guy.” I sighed and glanced up from my phone.
“He ghost you?”
“Sort of. We hooked up last weekend, and I haven’t heard from him.”
“Why don’t you text him?”
“I don’t want to seem desperate.”
“How many times have you texted him?”
“I haven’t.”
“Kai, babe. You waited a week. Sending him one message isn’t desperate.” Angel draped his arm over my shoulders and gave me a squeeze. “Just send one. If he answers then yay, if not, forget him and move on.”
“You make so much sense sometimes.”
Angel winked. “I have my moments.”
He was right. One text wasn’t desperate.
Are you coming to the club tonight?
I sent it before I could change my mind and bit my lip as I waited for a reply.
Twenty minutes later I was on my pedestal stage swinging around a pole in a gold jock and a pair of sneakers. Zander hadn’t responded to my text, but thankfully, the music was on point tonight, so I was able to push my disappointment aside and focus on my dancing.
I’d never taken a dance lesson or even a pole dancing exercise class, so all of my moves were self-taught through either Google or trial and error. I wasn’t as polished as some of the other guys, but I was good enough to keep my spot as a featured dancer, so I had to be doing something right.
By the time I was back in the dressing room, I was sore and tired. The muscles in the backs of my legs were tight, and I could feel them straining every time I stretched. I was also getting sore spots behind my knees from the friction of the pole. I always went home hurting after pole nights, but the money was worth it.
On a whim, I pulled my phone out of my locker and checked it. Zander had texted back
Sorry, don’t think I can.
Disappointment rushed through me, and I sighed.
“Issues with loverboy?” Angel asked as he touched up his mascara.
“He doesn’t want to come here to see me.”
Angel looked like he was about to say something, then he grinned. “Give me your phone.”
Wordlessly I unlocked it and handed it over. He tapped on a few icons and then winked at me.
“What?”
“Strike a pose.”
Rolling my eyes, I did as he said, and when he handed my phone back, I had five extremely flattering pictures of myself.
“Now send him one of those and show him what he’s missing.”
I sent the first photo as quickly as I could so I didn’t chicken out, and less than a minute later my phone pinged.
I opened the text, and my heart dropped.
You probably meant to send that to Alex.
Alex? What the fuck was he talking about?
I was still staring at my phone when it dawned me. He’d seen my show and heard me talk about Alex, not knowing I was actually talking about him.
Shit.
I quickly typed in a response.
It’s not what you think. Can we talk about this?
Thankfully, the reply came only moments later. There was no way in hell I would have been able to go back out there and dance with this hanging between us.
We probably should.
Tonight?
I’ll come to the club before closing.
I swear it’s not what you’re thinking.
I’ll see you later.
I stared at my phone until the screen went dark. His messages had been curt, but he’d agreed to meet me. I was still floored that he’d seen my show at all, but at least I’d get a chance to explain everything.
I just hoped he’d listen.
THANK GOD FOR ANGEL.
He was the only reason we’d made any money during our third set. I hadn’t been able to concentrate and had spent most of the time scanning the crowd for some sign of Zander.
Angel had taken over, using me as a prop and bringing me back to reality when I faltered. It wasn’t the first time one of us had bailed out the other, so I knew it wasn’t a big deal, but I still felt bad.
When the set was over, I rushed to the dressing room and cleaned up as best I could without using the showers. I tossed my street clothes on and then grabbed my bag and hurried out into the club, pulling my phone out to make sure Zander hadn’t messaged me to cancel.
I found him by the bar, and while he didn’t look happy, he wasn’t outwardly angry.
“Can we get out of here?” I asked loudly, hoping my voice would carry over the noise in the club.
Zander nodded, and I followed him outside.
“Alex isn’t a real person,” I said as soon as the doors to the club closed behind us.
“What?”
“Alex is the name I gave you in my show. So I could talk about you but keep your identity hidden.”
“Really?” he looked doubtful.
“Really. Alexander, Zander. It seemed to fit.”
“My name isn’t Alexander; it’s just Zander.” He grinned.
“Well, my name isn’t Malachi like a lot of people assume. It’s just Kai.” I resisted the urge to sigh as the darkness around Zander seemed to lift.
“So, just Kai. I kinda feel like a dick now.” Zander glanced away before looking back at me, a flush on his cheeks. “I reacted like a jealous tool.”
“If I’d heard you talking about some other guy, I would probably have reacted the same way.”
“So, you cam?”
I knew we had to have this discussion, but I wasn’t willing to have it in the middle of the street outside my club.
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, just not here.”
“My place?”
“Sure.”
Zander nodded for me to follow him, and we walked a few blocks in silence. We reached his car, and I didn’t relax until I’d slid into the passenger’s seat and was buckled in.
“I’m still sorry for not asking you about it.” Zander kept his eyes on the road as
he spoke.
“It’s okay. Is that the only reason you didn’t call me?”
“No,” he sighed.
“Oh?”
“I’m fucked up, Kai. I’ve got issues with... things. I didn’t want you to get messed up in my shit.”
“I’m a go-go dancer who does cam shows. I have issues too, Zander.”
“Mine are serious.”
“I don’t mind serious.”
“I can’t really talk about it, not like this.”
“That’s fine. You don’t have to tell me anything. I just want you to know that I don’t care that you have issues. We all do.”
He nodded, and we drove the rest of the way in silence. I hadn’t really planned on telling him everything all at once, but I decided to trust him. I owed him that much.
When we got to his house, I followed him inside and was grateful when we went into his living room and not the bedroom.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked as we settled on the couch, a full cushion of space between us.
“I didn’t want you to know that part of me, not right away.” I sighed and tucked my legs up under my body. “I’m used to guys seeing me as Skylar. Dancing is one thing, but my cam shows are different. I wanted you to know me, Kai, not the act I put on for money.”
“Why camming? Don’t you make enough dancing?”
“I do okay, better than a lot of guys.” I shrugged. “But I needed more.”
“For school?”
“For my mom.”
“Oh?”
I sighed and raked my hand through my hair.
“My mom was diagnosed with stage 3 breast cancer four years ago when I was in school. We’ve never had a lot, and after she got sick her boss fired her, and she lost the little insurance she did have. I was so scared that we wouldn’t be able to find the money to save her.
“The social worker at the hospital was incredible. She found us all sorts of funding, and some of the doctors did parts of her treatment at a reduced cost and even free so we could go ahead without waiting. The only thing they couldn’t help with was reconstructive surgery, but without the help, I honestly don’t think she’d still be alive.
“I quit school to be there for her. To make sure she got to her appointments and treatment, and to take care of her when she was sick and couldn’t do much on her own. It was hell on both of us. She spent a year in treatment, and every time she came home from chemo I was terrified that she wouldn’t be able to take it, that her body would give up, and I’d lose her.
“With no money coming in and the bills piling up, I looked into doing porn. I figured it would be quick and easy money, but it wasn’t. Models don’t get paid that much, and there’s a lot of travel and competition. I couldn’t leave Mom, so I looked for an alternative.”
“And you found camming?”
I nodded. “I make my own schedule, and I can do it from my bedroom. It took a long time, but I’ve built a pretty loyal fan base. In a good week, I can make more camming than dancing.”
“Does your mom know what you do?”
“She does. She’s supportive, but I know she’ll be happy when I finish school and can finally set up my vet practice.”
“She’s okay now, right?”
“She is. She went through chemo and had a double mastectomy, then had corrective surgery. She didn’t want to do it, but I convinced her we would make it work. She’s sacrificed so much for me, and I knew she would feel better about herself after surgery. She’s been cancer-free for just over two years.”
“How much debt do you have?” he asked tentatively.
“Between our living costs and her treatment, we racked up just over sixty thousand dollars.”
“Fuck.” He shook his head.
“Yeah, and for two people who had no assets, it almost destroyed us. We’ve managed to pay a good chunk of it off, but now that I’m in school things are really tight.”
“Wait, so you still live with her?”
“Yeah. I can’t leave until I know she’s completely back on her feet and independent.”
“What about your dad?”
“He’s not in the picture.”
“Single mom?”
“She’s actually my stepmom.” I bit my lip.
“What happened to your mother and your dad?”
“My birth mother died in a car accident when I was three. Mom came into my life when I was six, and she married my dad when I was ten. When I was sixteen my dad caught me kissing my friend Christian, and he lost it. He threw me out, said some choice things about my sexuality and threatened to kill me if I ever came back. Mom was home, and she helped me pack up my stuff. She gave me some money for a cab and told me to get something to eat and then wait for her in the library. Three hours later she showed up with all the money she could get her hands on and three bags of her things.”
“She left your dad?”
I nodded. “We got a place, and she divorced him. She’d been a housewife and didn’t have many skills, but she got two jobs to support me while I was in school. We moved here when I was eighteen and about to start college. She wanted a new start, and I didn’t want to leave her behind.
“Then she got sick, and our world was shattered. She’s all I have, and almost losing her like that...” I blinked away the tears that were gathering in my eyes and pulled in a deep breath. “She gave up everything for me. I love her as if she were my birth mom because she is my real mom. So that’s why I do what I do. I started dancing when I was eighteen as a way to make extra money for school and started camming when she got sick. Now I do both. She works nights at a store stocking shelves, and we barely scrape by.”
“Shit, Kai...”
“I didn’t tell you for pity. I’m lucky. I have a mom who loves me, a best friend who’s like a brother to me, and I do well at my jobs. I had to put my plans on hold, but I can still achieve everything I set out to do.”
“I don’t pity you, Kai. I think you’re amazing.”
“What?”
Zander nodded slowly. “That’s a lot of shit to take on, and you were only twenty. The fact that you stuck by her and have worked so hard to make a better life for both of you is amazing. A lot of people would have used your situation as a reason to quit, but not you.”
“I don’t quit when things get tough. Otherwise, I would have given up a long time ago.”
“I admire that.” He sighed and glanced away.
Something told me that was a loaded sigh, and while I was dying to know what was weighing on him, I wasn’t going to ask. I’d already laid all my shit out on him. He could tell me about his when he was ready.
“Thank you.”
When the silence dragged on, I opened my mouth to say something, but instead, I yawned.
“Tired?”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “I don’t get a lot of sleep on the weekends.”
“Why not?”
“With my dance schedule I’m up half the night, but then I can’t sleep in because I have shit I need to do. I usually don’t get a break until Monday when I’m done with school and homework.”
“Do you have much to do tomorrow?”
“Not really, for once. I have my dance sets, but other than some reading I’ll actually get a chance to relax.”
“Do you want me to take you home?”
I was about to nod when Zander kept speaking.
“Or you could stay here.”
I paused, trying not to let my surprise show. He wanted me to stay with him, as in all night?
“I’m tired too, and I...”
“You what, Zander?” I asked softly when he trailed off.
“I’d like to hold you tonight if that’s okay.”
“That’s more than okay.” My heart was fluttering in my chest, and a rush of adrenaline shot through me at the thought. I hadn’t shared a bed with someone in so long, not counting platonic drunken sleepovers with Levi, that I’d almost forgotten how it felt to spend the night with some
one.
“I didn’t take a shower at the club.” I hated to bring that up, but a rubdown with baby wipes hadn’t done much more than get rid of the body glitter I’d put on, so I was a bit ripe.
“You can shower here if you want.”
“Thank you. I’d like that.”
Zander smiled and stood, reaching down to take my hand.
I let him lead me to his bedroom, and he pointed out the master bathroom.
There was something surreal about the entire situation. I was in Zander’s bathroom, alone, about to take a shower. Only hours ago I’d thought he was done with me, and now we were going to spend the night together.
I was trying not to read too much into it. I’d just unloaded a bunch of heavy shit on him, and he’d already told me he was struggling with whatever issues he had. We were both emotionally vulnerable right now, that was it.
I turned the water in the shower on and stripped out of my clothes. When it was just the way I liked, hot enough to turn my skin red, I climbed in and ducked my head under the spray.
There was something intimate about using Zander’s body wash and shampoo. It felt foolish, but it made me smile to know that I’d get to smell like him, even after I went home tomorrow.
“Kai?” Zander’s voice rang out from the other side of the door.
“Yes?” I called back.
“I have some clothes you can wear. Can I bring them in?”
“Yes, thank you.”
The shower curtain was opaque, so I couldn’t see Zander as he came into the bathroom, only his shadow, as he put something on the toilet seat and then left the bathroom again.
When I was good and clean, I turned off the water and grabbed one of the fluffy towels from the rack next to the shower and wrapped myself in it. His towels were a hell of a lot nicer than mine. It was like being wrapped in a big warm cloud.
The clothes Zander had left me were not what I was expecting. He was seven inches taller than me and outweighed me by at least forty pounds. Anything that would fit him would be huge on me, but the pajama pants and T-shirt he’d brought in were my size. I didn’t want to think about him giving me his “hook-up” spares, so I pushed that thought out of my mind and concentrated on towel-drying my hair so I didn’t make the back of the shirt too wet.