His Dirty Dancer
The Halloween Honeys
Kelli Callahan
Copyright © 2018 by Kelli Callahan
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Created with Vellum
Contents
1. Lexi
2. Brett
3. Lexi
4. Brett
5. Lexi
6. Brett
7. Lexi
8. Lexi
9. Brett
10. Lexi
11. Brett
Epilogue
Halloween Honeys
Join My Mailing List
Kelli’s Voracious Vixens
Secrets & Sin: Sneak Peek
About the Author
Lexi
“What do you mean you lost everything? How could have you have lost everything?” I stared at my father, who was finishing off his third glass of whiskey since the conversation started.
“The company is in ruins, darling.” He stared at the bottle before twisting off the top and pouring another glass. “It’s a fucking disaster.”
“How could this happen? You said we were going to be set for life!” My stomach turned into a tight knot as I processed what he told me.
“We should have been, but then your bitch of a stepmother decided she wanted her cut. She sold her half to a big company in Chicago that just wants to close us down so they can take over the New York market.” He lifted the glass to his lips.
“Why haven’t you told me any of this? Why am I just now finding out about everything?” I grabbed a chair, realizing that my weak knees were about to buckle.
“I didn’t want to distract you from your schoolwork, and I believed we were going to pull through.” He sighed and shook his head. “The only reason I’m telling you now is because your next tuition check is going to bounce.”
“I—I have to drop out of college?” I felt tears welling up.
“I’m afraid so.” He exhaled sharply and gulped his whiskey. “All you do is party, anyway. It’s not like you’re learning a damn thing. You might as well get a job and see how fucked up the real world is.”
I was speechless. I knew things got nasty when my stepmother filed for divorce, but I had no idea she managed to get half of my father’s company. He was certainly no saint, and the divorce was as much his fault as it was hers. The only place he wasn’t putting his dick was in her, and to hear him tell it, he had the only cock she wasn’t sucking. I didn’t even feel like staying with him, especially if he was just going to get drunk and belligerent. I was looking forward to a relaxing weekend at home with him, but that wasn’t going to happen. I would have just been better off staying at Mi Alpha Alpha with my sorority sisters. I grabbed my laundry from the hallway and rolled it back out to my car. It was a long drive back, but it was better than staying the night with him.
I have to find a way to pay my tuition. He may not believe that I have a future, but I do. I’m certainly not giving up that easily.
* * *
“Lexi! You’re back!” Cadence, one of my sorority sisters, hopped up from the couch when I stepped into the Mi Alpha Alpha house. “You’re just in time to join me for a drink.”
“I bet I’m going to need to down a bottle if I’m going to catch up with you.” I turned my head when I smelled the alcohol wafting from her breath.
“No way.” She shook her head quickly. “I’ve only had one.”
Only had one—that might as well be her mission statement for life.
It was late, but I didn’t give a fuck. I needed a drink a lot more than anyone else at Mi Alpha Alpha after finding out that my father was bankrupt. Cadence lined up two shots of blueberry vodka, and I quickly downed mine. The alcohol made me feel a little better and when Cadence offered a second shot, I tossed it back as quickly as the first. Cadence’s cell phone lit up with a text and she scampered into the other room. I assumed it was from one of the boys she liked to send drunken messages to when she had a lot more than one drink. I decided to skip the shot glass and just dumped a large helping into a drinking cup. The blueberry did a decent job of offsetting the taste of the alcohol, but it wasn’t enough, so I added a little mixer to thin it out some. I started towards the stairs and caught a whiff of weed.
Now that’s what I really need right now.
I followed the smell to the top of the stairs. There was a pretty good chance that the smell was coming from Abby’s room. She was our resident stoner and liked to get high as often as possible. I normally didn’t like to smoke marijuana since it made me a little loopy, especially after drinking, but my give-a-damn was absolutely shattered. I would have done a line of coke off a frat-boys dick at that point if it would have numbed everything and made me forget about the terrible news I got from my father. I pushed open Abby’s door and caught her in the middle of taking a huge hit from her bong.
“Oh shit!” She exhaled and coughed. “Fuck, don’t just bust into my room like that.”
“Sorry, but I need a hit.” I walked in and closed the door. “That window isn’t doing much to get the smell out of the house. I could smell it downstairs.”
“Fuck.” Abby hopped up and grabbed her air freshener spray. “I’ll be right back—hit it all you want, but try to blow the smoke out the window.”
“Why? It’s not like you are.” I chuckled as I picked up her lighter and took a rip from the bong.
There we go. That feels good.
Abby and I spent some time trading hits from her bong once she was done spraying the area outside her door and the stairs. It wasn’t like any of the other sorority sisters gave a fuck, but if a family member stopped by for a visit, they could cause trouble. The weed caused me to laugh, which was a good feeling after going through so many emotions on the way back to Mi Alpha Alpha that were far from humorous. We found a funny movie on Netflix that was enhanced quite nicely by the buzz I had. I sipped my drink slow, but I could feel myself slipping into that spot where bad decisions were made. It was the reason I didn’t like getting high in the first place, especially when I was drunk.
“So, my father is bankrupt. I may have to drop out of school.” I didn’t even realize I said the words out loud until they passed across my lips.
“What? Lexi, that’s awful! How did it happen?” Abby immediately started packing another bowl.
“Bad decisions—a bad marriage.” I shrugged and sighed. “I need to find a job.”
“Now?” She raised her eyebrows in surprise. “We’ve got the haunted house coming up. We’re all going to be really busy with that.”
“I know.” I nodded and reached for the bong when she finished taking a hit.
“If you need to make some quick money, I know a guy that runs an escort service. The men pay a lot for girls our age.” She extended her hand for the bong once I took a hit. “I mean, it’s not perfect, but I bet you’d make enough to stay in school.”
“I can’t do that. Hell no.” I blinked in surprise and shook my head. “Have you?”
“Um.” Her eyes shifted back and forth. “Maybe once or twice.”
“Abby, you slut!” My mouth fell open in shock.
“A paid slut that has plenty of money for weed.” She tilted her head and passed me the bong.
“I don’t think I could do that. I haven’t been with anyone since Tyler.” I lifted the bong to my lips and pulled some smoke into my lungs.
“Wow, really? That was like—almost
a year ago. I’ve lost count of how many guys I’ve been with since then.” She chuckled and grinned. “What about stripping?”
“Stripping?” I blew a stream of smoke towards the window. “There’s no fucking way. Someone I know could see me!”
“Well, yeah—you can’t do it in Oak Ridge, but what about that club in Crown City? Most of the guys around here aren’t going that far, and they’re more upscale. You used to be a ballet dancer, right? You’d be a natural.” Abby nodded as she lit the bowl again.
Maybe she’s right. Fuck, I don’t really have many other options that would earn that kind of money for a few nights of work.
* * *
I thought long and hard about my decision over the course of the next week, but I realized that I didn’t have many other options. I did the math for other jobs, and it was going to be nearly impossible to make enough money to attend Oak Ridge University without a major influx of cash. I also had duties as a sister of Mi Alpha Alpha. The sorority was doing a haunted house fundraiser for Oak Ridge Children’s Hospital, and I was in charge of one of the rooms. Stacy Barren, our sorority president, was very clear that it wasn’t optional. I was normally happy to help out with charity, but I felt like a charity case myself.
I had been in over my head before I had even gone to Crown City to try and meet with the guy who ran the strip club. One of my sorority sisters had walked in on me practicing my dance moves, right when I had removed my bra, and I had to tell her that I was going to be a stripper for Halloween just to maintain my cover. I had gotten the nickname Dirty Dancer after that, so I was stuck with the costume whether I wanted to wear it or not. I figured I could add some zombie makeup for the haunted house to at least make my performance somewhat spooky when my room was open to the public.
“Okay, here goes nothing.” I stared at the front of the Crown City Gentleman’s Club, and then walked towards the side entrance where the strippers were supposed to enter.
“New girl?” The bouncer tilted his head when I approached.
“Yes sir.” I nodded and sighed. “This is my first night.”
“You’re cute; I’ll have to make sure I’m inside when you go on.” He chuckled and reached for the door.
Great, I already have my first fan and I haven’t even taken my clothes off yet.
The more experienced dancers gave me a few tips and a pep talk before it was time for me to go out on stage. I was nervous as hell, but there was no going back. I stepped out onto the stage under my stripper name, Cinnamon. I wasn’t even the only Cinnamon at the club that night, but I didn’t think any of the guys gave a shit. I did my sexiest walk towards the pole and got a few cheers when I started my routine. I mixed some ballet steps into my performance, and pulled off the pieces of clothes that didn’t expose much. I was down to my bra when I did a quick twist around the pole and saw a set of familiar eyes staring directly at me.
Oh fuck, that’s Professor Hill! Fuck, fuck, fuck!
My heart sank into my stomach. There was no mistaking those sky blue eyes, his sandy colored hair, or his large physique. He was one of the hottest professors at Oak Ridge University, and I had a crush on him when I took his Marketing class the previous year. My brain got foggy and I felt my knees growing weak. I did another twist on the pole to stall, and fought the battle for my future inside my head. The only option was absolute humiliation because I had to make money. I hoped the wig I was wearing covered enough of my face, or that he wasn’t even looking at it with the rest of my curves on display.
Here goes nothing.
I did another twist and sent my bra to the stage. My breasts were bared to the public, and the money started coming my way. I dropped to the stage and crawled towards the men, just like the other girls had instructed me to do. They weren’t allowed to touch unless they were putting money in my g-string, and thankfully, it wasn’t a club where I had to lose more than my top. I crawled around the stage until I didn’t see any dollars, but then another one appeared. I let my ass sway as I crawled, and when I got close to it, I realized Professor Hill was the one holding it out. The look on his face confirmed that he knew who I was, but I was already on the way towards the dollar he was holding. I grabbed it with my hand, not even giving him a chance to put it in my g-string, and then scurried towards the curtain.
Oh my god. I wish I could melt into the floor and die right here in this spot.
Brett
Earlier that week
“You need to blow off some steam, buddy. Why don’t you join me tonight for a few beers down at Clapton’s Pub?” Coach McCleary slapped my shoulder and gave me a quick shake.
“I don’t know. I don’t like drinking in the middle of the week.” I sighed and shook my head. “Then again, what do I care, right? It’s not like I’ve got a wife to complain when I get home anymore.”
“Half your students come to class hungover every day. I doubt they’ll notice if you’ve got a headache.” He chuckled and motioned towards the football stadium. “Hell, there’s probably more alcohol in the football team’s sweat than you’ll put away with a few pints.”
“We were the same way when we were their age.” I chuckled and nodded. “All right, man. How’s seven?”
“That works fine,” Coach McCleary grinned. “See you then.”
Coach McCleary and I had been friends for over a decade. We played on the same football team in college, and the only reason I got the gig teaching at Oak Ridge University was because he put in a good word for me. I hadn’t been teaching long, but I needed something after my divorce to bring in a few extra dollars. My ex-wife and I co-owned Hill Marketing, and neither of us wanted to sell our half when the divorce went through. I decided to maintain my half of the company, but take a lesser role in the day to day activities, mainly because I didn’t want to have to see her every single time I went to work. Taking a reduced role meant I had to give up my salary. I needed something to do with my time, and the money wasn’t bad since it also came with nice benefits, so I started teaching.
* * *
“So, do you still see the bitch or is the new job helping you avoid her entirely?” McCleary took a sip of his beer and stared at me.
“Don’t call her that.” I sighed and shook my head. “I don’t hate her, it’s just too hard to look at her and live that regret every day.”
“You two were hot and heavy in college. It’s crazy what a decade can do.” McCleary shrugged and leaned back in his chair.
“Yeah, we put our work ahead of ourselves, and before we realized what was happening, there just wasn’t any passion left.” I shrugged and reached for my beer.
“You got friend-zoned by your own wife, that’s what happened.” He sipped his beer and sighed. “That shit sucks.”
“I know, and now she’s got a new boyfriend, so that just makes it even worse.” I glared at my beer before taking a big gulp of the amber colored brew.
“When are you gonna get some of that action? You can’t sulk forever. You need to get your dick wet.” McCleary chuckled and finished his beer, immediately motioning for another.
“I don’t know, man. Maybe one day I’ll meet someone that I like enough to try again.” I decided to finish my beer so I could get a new one as well, which required me to drink it so fast the coldness made my head ache.
“Fuck that. Just get out there and have some fun. We’re surrounded by hot-as-fuck girls all day long. Trust me, I’d bang a few of those cheerleaders that shake their ass on the sidelines if I was single, and don’t think they haven’t offered.” He chuckled again and took his new beer with the bartender put it in front of him.
“Really? A student?” I blinked in surprise. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“It’s frowned on, but hell—who gives a fuck, right? The dean might give you shit, but I doubt his closet is clean anyway.” McCleary shrugged and put a nice dent in his beer. “As long as you’re not dating someone in one of your classes, you might get a few stares, but you won’t get fir
ed.”
“Yeah, I just—that just seems wrong.” I shook my head and sipped my beer.
“Well if you aren’t going to fuck anybody, at least head over to Crown City and get a lap dance. Those girls know how to give one, if you know what I mean.” His eye twitched into a wink.
McCleary saw me as a guy sitting on the sidelines of life like a backup player. In our younger years, we were quite the pair. A jock with an arm like a cannon and the guy who was always in the right spot on the field when he fired the ball. Those years were behind us though, and I no longer felt like the guy who used to bust through defenses with the ball under my arm. I certainly didn’t feel like partying all night long and climbing into bed with some random girl I wouldn’t remember the next day. Perhaps a strip club would be what I needed. I still had my balls, even if my ex-wife thought she carried them in her purse. I just didn’t want to spend my days living in the bed of regrets I made along the way.
* * *
“So, this is where you shape young minds.” A familiar voice caused me to tense up.
“Melinda.” I lifted my head and turned towards my ex-wife, who was standing at the doorway of my classroom. “What are you doing here?”
“You haven’t returned my calls in a week.” She walked in and looked around the classroom. “I only call you unless it’s important.”
“I’ve been busy.” I tried not to make my tone cold, but it might as well have left my lips frozen.
“I know you don’t work at Hill Marketing anymore, but you still own half of the company. We’ve got our annual charity event coming up in a couple of weeks and your attendance will be required.” She exhaled sharply and narrowed her eyes at me. “You don’t get to dodge all of your responsibilities just because you quit.”
His Dirty Dancer: The Halloween Honeys Page 1