Luke lifted his chin at our appearance. “Didn’t expect you guys back so soon.” His eyes skimmed quickly over me, not lingering.
Kellen walked over, Shae on his heels, and dropped onto the couch next to Luke, pulling Shae onto his lap.
I hung back, my eyes more focused on the girl Luke had yet to introduce. However, his impeccable manners were not lost.
“This is Meg,” he indicated the girl, who flashed a bright smile and stuck her hand out to Shae first. “These are my friends I told you about. Kellen and Shae. And that’s Celia.” His eyes landed on me, but once again it was only briefly.
I had no choice but to step forward and take Meg’s offered hand when she got to me. “It’s nice to meet you guys. Kellen was telling me about your trip.”
“Nice to meet you too.” I forced a smile, not sure what else to say to Meg with the big brown eyes.
I dropped down beside Kellen and Shae, continuing my appraisal of Meg. She had that cute, longer in the front, wedge cut that framed her face perfectly. No make-up, not that she needed it with her near flawless complexion. She was petite and completely chic looking, all super sweet girl next door. I told myself it wasn’t bitterness coloring my thoughts and making me dislike her even though I had no reason to.
“Meg is a musician. She’s moving to Nashville from Colorado,” Luke added.
“That’s so cool,” Shae jumped right in and then had a million questions for her about being a musician. She shared that she was getting ready to write her next book about a female musician. After that, Meg was all too happy to provide her insight. I was bored after the first two minutes of listening to how impressive Meg was, and how supportive her family was of her dream to move out here, and how different Nashville was from her home town.
“I think the long day is catching up with me,” I interrupted their chatter, rising from the couch. “I’m going to head up to bed.”
Shae, Kellen and even Meg said goodnight, but Luke didn’t say a word, not that it mattered. I spared him a quick glance, our eyes connecting for just a second before I tore mine away and made my escape to the elevator, leaving the three of them to get to know the precious Meg better.
A thousand thoughts fought for purchase in my head on the ride up to our floor, but I refused to acknowledge them. I didn’t like the direction they were leading.
Fumbling for my room key when I made it to our door, a nervous laugh rose inside of me. I leaned my head against the door and sucked in a calming breath. I tried to tell myself I wasn’t losing it. I got the door open and was grateful to find the room empty. At almost one a.m. I knew it wouldn’t be for much longer. Mechanically, I crossed the room and went to my bag, still corking all the emotions trying to bubble their way up to the surface.
It was only once I was shut safely inside the shower room that I risked letting it all out. Hot water sluicing down my face and body, I could almost pretend that was the only reason my cheeks were wet, if it weren’t for the subtle shakes that racked my body. I pressed my hands to the shower wall and hung my head, squeezing my eyes against the warm tears that were forcing their way out, demanding that I recognize these feelings I so badly wanted to ignore, forcing me to be honest with myself. All at once everything I was feeling spilled over and the tears started to come harder.
The first thing I acknowledged was my jealousy. The kind that didn’t just make my stomach clench and my face burn hot, but the kind that was irrational and felt like a fist wrapped around the beating organ behind my ribcage, squeezing the heck out of it just for shits and giggles. The kind that made me dislike a girl I’d only just met and who was sweet as apple pie.
That was part of the problem. She was sweet and nice and soft-spoken and ridiculously pretty, and we’d walked in on her and Luke having a comfortable, intimate conversation, just the two of them. She was also wholesome and cheery and expressive in that way artsy people are. It was so obvious when she talked about her life back home and how much she missed her parents and playing in the church band and Sunday brunches after service with her grandparents, and the little kids she gave guitar and piano lessons to. I wanted to vomit.
I could never be like Meg. If that’s what Luke was looking for, it would never be me. We couldn’t be more opposite, as evidenced by the blush on sweet Meg’s cheeks when Shae asked her if she’d left someone special behind in Colorado. How friggin’ precious.
Luke clearly thought so anyway, the way he smiled at her when she talked, like he couldn’t help it, like she was somethin’ special and they were already good friends and not two people that had just met.
If I hadn’t been sure of my feelings before, I was painfully in touch with them now. And they were honest to God real and messy and as complicated as they came. Like made me want to throw up real.
I half laughed, half sobbed thinking back over the past few days and my conversations with Shae. I was so stupid. I could see that now, because how obvious was it that I already thought of him as mine in every way but one, the way that counted, the way he wasn’t actually mine, but I realized now I wanted him to be.
I wanted him to look at me and see something special. Something as lovely as Meg. Something … not me.
It left this anxious churning in my gut and pressure in my chest that simultaneously made me want to laugh, cry and scream.
How did this happen to me?
From day one when I walked into that club and laid eyes on him, this was the one thing I’d tried to avoid. I thought I had.
How wrong I was, because it seemed that despite how hard and tough and rough I tried to be on the outside, my insides were as friggin’ soft and gooey and marshmallow-like as the next poor girl’s.
This sucked.
Fourteen
Cici
Six years ago
June
“You’re up in ten, girlfriend,” Jess startled me, giving my butt a smack with the back of her hand and nearly causing me to lose an eye to the stick of eye liner I was wielding to touch up my make-up before show time.
I set it down on the vanity in our dressing room and grabbed the tube of gloss to apply one last coat on my crimson lips. “What does it look like out there tonight?”
“Full house. Not that it’s ever not when you’re on.”
I couldn’t help my grin. Jess shook her head and her lips split in a wry smile. “Look at you, all pleased with yourself.”
I didn’t deny it, simply shrugged. Jess laughed. “I hardly recognize you as the girl that walked through those doors three months ago.”
Because I wasn’t her. Celia didn’t belong here, but Cici, well she’d never been more at home than on that stage. I came alive the first night I danced out there, and I’d known immediately then that I’d made the right choice. Say what you will, but I felt like I finally found myself. I wasn’t drifting or struggling anymore. The money was beyond what I’d ever expected or hoped for. Nobody was trying to control my life, for the first time, I felt truly in control of it.
“You guys have taught me well.”
She snorted, “We might have taught you a few moves, but I’ve never seen anyone take to this the way you have. You’re something else out there.”
She wasn’t wrong. My heart was already kicking up just knowing it was almost time. It might have started out about the money, but it was something else entirely now.
I met my own gaze in the mirror and for the first time in a long time, I liked what I saw there.
“Drive ‘em wild.” Jess winked before slipping out of the room. The only one in here, I was glad to have a couple of minutes to myself. I gripped the edge of the vanity, closed my eyes, and breathed out. I shut off everything else in my mind. Any voice that still held doubts about what I was doing, all distractions, even the voicemail from my aunt I was ignoring and the subsequent guilt that accompanied it. Right now, there was nothing but this. It was my chance to escape from everything else for a little while and be only who I wanted to be.
The r
ap on the door was the two-minute signal. I pushed up from the vanity, took one last look in the mirror, and adjusted the under-bust corset and minuscule skirt I would lose part way through the song. Once I was satisfied everything was where it should be, I left the dressing room and waited for the first beat of my song to drop. As soon as The Pussycat Dolls’ Buttons filled the room I made my entrance.
Conversations died and every eye followed me as I took to the stage. It was electrifying, my entire body was lit and aching to let it all out. So I did.
Every step was meant to tease, every dip, twist, spin and twirl meant to seduce. Every breath I breathed was pure sex. The room was filled with it. It was heady and erotic and I fed off it. I made them want. I made them need. I made them ache with it through two songs. In those few minutes, I couldn’t care less about the bills being laid at my feet. Twenties, fifties, even hundreds. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that they’d give me anything I asked for.
These men with their money, so used to ruling this world and taking what they want …
They think they have the power. They think they can have me, but in this place, I own them. They’re all the same and they’ll beg if I want them to.
All but him. The only one I want and the only one I can’t have.
That thought came to me from out of nowhere and immediately I slammed the door shut on it, but not before I could stop my eyes from drifting to the bar where he stood. The only man in the room not riveted to the stage. The one who left me wanting.
Since the night of my audition, I’d craved what we stopped ourselves from doing. I itched to step my toes over the line he’d drawn. I’d been desperate to see that look in his eyes again, the one all of these men wore. Yet I was denied it all. Luke was nothing if not true to his word. I took the job and he took himself off the table, but not before we’d both had a taste of what burned between us.
I reminded myself it was nothing but the undeniable human urge to always want what we can’t have, to attain the unattainable. Nothing more. No doubt, the reality wouldn’t live up to the numerous fantasies I’d indulged in over the last several weeks anyway. I was better off letting it stay nothing more than a fantasy, letting it drive and push me, feeding this fire inside me until I was burning alive inside.
Every sense was heightened. The steel pole felt cooler, the lights brighter and hotter, my skin more sensitive under the lust darkened gazes of the club’s members. From my head to my toes, their eyes traveled my body like the caresses of so many lovers.
My heart thudded harder and the music pulsed through my body, now covered only by the deep red bra and matching thong, connected by a garter belt to black thigh high stockings.
The silk and lace scraps of fabric were my armor. The less I wore, the less of me anyone saw. I became nothing more than an object they wanted to possess – no, had to possess. That need consumed them, drove them wild. But it wasn’t real. Nothing about this was real, and that’s why I relished it. I could bare every inch of my body, but never reveal even a glimpse of the girl beneath. I could let them put their hands all over my flesh, but they’d never touch my soul.
It was at my feet they surrendered their control and their power without ever realizing it. They believed money ruled and with it they could buy me, but they were the ones ruled by it and they were fools for it.
When the second song faded, I knew the night was still far from over. It was really only just beginning. I stepped down from the stage, dark gazes still following me, though I met none of them with my own eyes, denying them that as I slipped out of the room and back to the dressing room. Only after downing a bottle of cold water and redressing in the requisite uniform all the Orchid girls wore when on the floor, did I return to the bar.
The first handful of nights I danced, this was the point where I’d been approached for private dances. I could turn down or accept; the choice was always mine, but over the months the routine had changed. They no longer approached me, though with hopeful eyes they watched, knowing I would take my pick, and tonight I already knew who my first choice would be.
The girls said he used to be a once a month regular, but in the past two months, he’d been in twice a month. A businessman from Florida in his early thirties, I’d spotted him in his dark corner of the room the second I’d entered it. He was one of my favorites because he was perhaps one of the most domineering men I’d ever met and it was so sweet bringing him low.
At the bar, I had Scott pour me his drink of choice, our most expensive scotch, and then made my way to where he sat. I set it down on the table in front of him, but he didn’t reach for it. He didn’t look away at all as I lowered myself onto his lap. A slow grin spread across his lips and his eyes grew impossibly darker.
I trailed a finger down his tie and he placed his palm against the small of my back. Still, no words were exchanged. They weren’t needed, not with the looks we shared. He knew what this meant, and he didn’t need to tell me he wanted it.
I reached for the glass of scotch and held it up to him. He took it from me, not breaking eye contact, and tipped it to his lips, draining it. When he set the glass back on the table, I rose and he did the same. He followed me from the bar and down the short dark hallway to the first available room. I held the door for him, allowing him to brush by me and enter first.
I let the door fall shut behind me, sealing us inside the quiet room, cut off from all the noise and activity outside. When I turned, he’d already made himself comfortable on the leather seat, anticipation now on his face. I slowly crossed the tiny room to the wall with the jukebox.
“Why don’t you do four songs tonight.” It was the first words he’d spoken and with my back to him he couldn’t see my grin. He really was a desperate man tonight. A lot could happen in four songs.
He was coming right out and telling me that’s what he wanted tonight without the usual battle of wills. He liked to think he could make me beg for it, but it was always him in the end.
And it was always up to me how much I gave him. I could queue one or two songs and dance for him and nothing else, and then move on to the next eager sucker. It wouldn’t be the first time I denied him.
I peered at him over my shoulder. “That bad?” I teased.
“You have no idea,” his reply was low and gravelly.
Oh, this would be fun. I think I might just give him his four songs, but I would wring them out of him.
And I did.
When we left that room, I was thrumming with pleasure, not just from what we’d done, but self-satisfaction. Being able to make a man do anything you wanted, having him at your mercy after a lifetime of only experiencing it the other way around, was unlike any other feeling. It was sweet, my own sort of revenge and rebellion against the life I’d known before; everything I’d lived with and lived through. It was one hell of a gratifying fuck you to all that.
There was no kiss or hug goodbye when we parted, or even a see you next month, even though we both knew he’d be back. Nothing about this was personal and I was glad he didn’t bother with the pretense that it was. He walked out of the room and out of the club with nothing more than a look of satisfaction on his face.
This was my world now. While other girls my age were wondering if the guy they liked, liked them back, if he was ever going to call or ask them out, I knew exactly where I stood with every man in this room. While some girls were dealing with the prickle in the back of their mind wondering if their boyfriend was cheating, I gave no man the power to hurt me like that.
While they hoped and dreamed of futures in cookie cutter houses with picket fences and perfect husbands who brought home flowers from work every day and always remembered their birthday and anniversary–dreams that could, and very likely would, all be shattered–I knew better than to place my hopes in anyone but myself. I would rely on no one. The life I wanted, whatever that looked like in five or ten years, I would make it happen. You could be damn sure I wouldn’t depend on a man for anything beyond
my physical needs.
My life was my own. My happiness was up to me.
Fifteen
Cici
Present
Road Trip to Hell Day 3
I woke with a dull ache in my skull and a gnawing in my gut. I knew both to be the result of my crying jag last night in the shower and the raw misery that had stayed with me even after I climbed into bed. Physically and emotionally drained, it hadn’t taken long for sleep to drag me under, so I hadn’t heard the others come back. I didn’t know how late they stayed downstairs, enjoying Meg’s company. Meg.
Oh goody, the jealousy was still there.
I shoved the covers back and sat up, trying to guess at the time by the amount of sunlight streaming in through the partially drawn curtains. It wasn’t early, but it had to be before ten. Shae wouldn’t have let me sleep that late when we needed to be on the road. That was the only bright spot. We were leaving and Meg was staying.
Shae stood at the mirror across the room by the bathroom, quietly pulling her hair into a braid. Our Swiss friends appeared to still be asleep in their bunks, but a quick peek over the edge of mine showed that the guys were missing, and we’d gotten another roommate at some point yesterday. One of the top bunks that had previously remained empty, now showed signs of someone having slept in it and there was a new suitcase and guitar case at the foot of that bed. This mystery roommate was also absent.
I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stretched my arms up, inhaling deeply on a yawn. The movement caught Shae’s attention and she turned to me. “Oh good, you’re awake.”
“What time is it?” I glanced around my bags trying to remember where I’d put my phone last night. Then I remembered leaving it on the counter outside the bathroom.
“A little after nine. I was just getting ready to wake you,” Shae answered as I slipped down from the bunk. “The guys went down with their bags to pull the car around. You can grab a shower while we get everything loaded and then we’ll get breakfast before we hit the road.”
“Sounds good.” I dropped down to kneel in front of my bags and began rummaging for something to wear. “Is someone in there now?”
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