Okay, a lot jealous.
She’s been crushing on that man since she was a little girl. He’s always been like a mythical creature to her. Older and far, far out of her reach, practically untouchable from where she stands. Well, except for one perfect night. One night she got to touch him, kiss him, feel him in all of the ways she had dreamed of.
The bus sways gently from side to side as it takes a hard right turn and pushes Daniella even closer to Devon. When he looks down at her and his mouth crests into a slight smirk, she immediately notices the one dimple indented in his right cheek. His arm rests behind her on the back of the seat and his fingers graze her shoulder, causing her body to go stiff for a few seconds.
She’s shocked by her reaction to his touch.
Why did her body practically repel in response to Devon’s fingers against her skin?
Maybe it’s because her mind was lost in fantasy land with a certain Southern man with piercing blue eyes…
She tells that thought to go fuck itself and searches the bus for her roommates. They are already getting cozy with the two guys from the bar. The rest of the bus is busy taking shots, grabbing beers from the cooler, and talking animatedly about the near brawl that occurred at one of their stops from earlier in the night.
Devon’s fingers squeeze her shoulder and she’s thankful her body doesn’t freak out this time. “So do you go to Houston?” he inquires in an attempt to make small talk.
“Yeah, I’m a senior this year,” she answers with a less-than-enthused tone to her voice.
“Nice. Big plans after graduation?” he asks with genuine interest.
“Once I finish my B.A. in photography, I’m hoping to get into a photojournalism graduate program. What about you?”
“I’m still strapped down to Uncle Sam for another two years. I’m sure they’ve got big plans for me,” he responds dryly.
That answer finally spurs some interest from her. “My brother Billy is in the Army. He did so many tours in Afghanistan and Iraq that I’ve honestly lost track. He’s currently stationed somewhere in Germany. God, I miss having him home.”
He nods knowingly. “I bet you do. Ever consider a trip to Europe for a visit?”
Daniella shrugs with feigned indifference. Obviously she would love to visit her twin brother, but there’s no way she could afford a trip like that right now. She can hardly afford to finish school. “That would be quite a trip. One that would include several international flights.” She laughs despite herself. “But to answer your question, I have no current plans to make the trek to Germany. I’m too busy right now with classes. So…how long are you home?”
“I don’t know. Probably a month or so, and then I’m sure I’ll be shipped out to some shithole town in the Middle East.”
“What does your family think? I’m sure they miss you,” she asks with curiosity. Her parents are extremely proud of her brother, but she can tell they’d much rather have him home.
When Billy decided to enlist in the Army, Bud and Nadine Pruitt weren’t exactly celebrating. Daniella’s momma cried for nearly three days straight. The four years he spent going back and forth to the Middle East were really rough on Mrs. Pruitt, and she’s not exactly thrilled that her youngest son is currently in Germany, but she’s definitely more at ease knowing that he’s not on enemy territory fighting insurgents.
“My dad was a Marine, his dad was a Marine… You get the idea. I’ve been raised in a military family. My life was spent moving from base camp to base camp. It’s what I’ve always known,” Devon offers, his facial expression bland.
“We’re here!” Toby yells to the entire bus with enthusiasm. “I hope you’re ready for some lap dances, Dev!”
Devon shakes his head with a chuckle and then whispers to Daniella, “I told you we were going to a strip club.”
A grin covers her mouth. “Yeah, I kinda figured that. I was looking to get into some trouble tonight anyways,” she adds with a wink as she stands up, adjusting her skirt so it’s a more reasonable length.
“Nice tattoo,” Devon compliments as a satisfied smile consumes his face. She stands directly in front of him, his eyes looking intently at the ink on display. “That looks like a pretty big piece.”
“Thanks, and you’re right. It is. The birds that come from the feather work their way across my back and all the way up to this shoulder.” She turns her body so he can see the black ink that peeks out from the strap of her tank top.
“Was that your first?” he inquires as he stands up.
“Yep.”
He whistles quietly. “Damn, you went all out for your first.”
“Do you have tattoos?” she asks behind her shoulder as she follows the lead of drunken frat guys filing off the bus.
“A few,” he offers as his eyes crinkle in amusement.
Hmmm. A few? Consider her curious.
She steps off the bus and her body comes to an immediate halt. She’s frozen, still as a statue. Wild Nights. Her head tilts upwards to take in the flashing neon sign that sits in front of the club. Penn’s strip club. This isn’t an ordinary, run-of-the-mill, ‘have drinks with friends’ kind of club. Wild Nights is a ‘that lap dance will be fifty dollars’ kind of club. A club located just outside of Houston city limits that prides itself on its champagne room and lap dances.
Black concrete walls are accented by large silver doors and no windows. She shudders slightly at the sight. This club is kind of intimidating, and she’s a little nervous to run into the one man she can’t seem to get out of her head. The parking lot is full, and she catches sight of a few broken beer bottles strewn across the blacktop.
“Oh lordy,” she mutters to herself, her Southern drawl coming out. This is definitely the last place she imagined being tonight.
She takes a deep breath and runs her petite fingers through her brunette locks. She’s trying her best to appear unaffected and focus her mind on other things that have no affiliation with Penn Wilder.
What if she sees him tonight?
Even though the possibility of seeing him tonight makes her feel like throwing up, she’s thankful for her choice in attire. Although her makeup is minimal, she at least took the time to apply mascara, blush, and lip gloss. The hair, the makeup, the current attire revealing skin inked with tattoos—this is all her. This is Daniella, not Danny Jo. This is a girl Penn is most certainly not familiar with, and she smiles at that thought.
Devon reaches for her hand as they walk towards the main doors. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s head in.” She takes his hand without hesitation. He’s a nice guy, a really good-looking guy, and if she could get her mind off Penn Wilder, he could be a guy who piques her interest.
The bouncer checks their IDs and pulls back the red velvet rope to let the entire group into the club. Seductive music blares, vibrating Daniella’s chest and filling her ears. Her eyes take in the sleek décor and she’s realizes that the outside of Wild Nights is very deceiving. She never would have guessed this place would be so…classy.
The irony of calling a strip club classy is not lost on her.
The club is all stainless steel and plush, black velvet accents. The main room’s lighting is dimmed for the occasion while colored spotlights highlight the large main stage and two smaller stages that center the room. There are two bars on either end, emphasized by a large display of liquor bottles framing the mirror lining the walls. Daniella is surprisingly digging the setup. It’s cool in a way only a strip club with half-naked women dancing on stage could pull off. Actually, that should be rephrased to fully naked women.
Houston’s strip clubs pride themselves on the fact that their girls are all nude.
The group finds two small tables surrounded by leather seats. Daniella thinks the décor is too nice to be in a place where naked twats are rubbing themselves on jeans-clad thighs, but she’s still pleasantly surprised nonetheless. It seems that Penn really does know how to run a strip club. Wild Nights’s style has a tasteful, sexy edge to
it that makes people feel invited and even comfortable rather than put off. This isn’t Daniella’s first go-round with strip joints either. She’s been to a few gems that encompassed more trash than class, but she’s happy to find that Penn Wilder’s club is a nice change of pace. She’s surprised and curious…extremely curious.
She sits down next to Devon. The group orders shots and beer, more than ready to continue the evening with a bang. Daniella glances over at Eliza and Sarah and finds them tremendously cozy with The Frat Boys. Both girls are smiling and laughing and cuddling closely with Toby and Frankie. A short laugh escapes Daniella’s lungs in a huff over the fact that her two best friends have the weirdest taste in men.
Or maybe she’s the one who has weird taste?
She’s not sure, but she’s sticking with her guns. No one will ever find her dating a guy who looks like he belongs on the cover of the L.L.Bean catalogue. Never.
Daniella downs the shot of Jack that’s handed to her in a quick gulp and chases the strong taste down with a swig of beer. The night is just getting started and she’s already buzzing from the alcohol…but this is what she wanted. She needed a night to be wild and reckless and free.
An announcement is made over the speakers, letting the crowd know that Kitty will be next to take the main stage. Daniella sits back and relaxes in her seat, all too prepared to watch the entertainer. Pony by Ginuwine begins to echo throughout the club, and she fights the urge to roll her eyes at the cliché song. Really? She could come up with a much better song selection. If Daniella were a stripper, she would thrive off being different. She wouldn’t be the typical exotic dancer with the candy-coated, sparkly name and glittery pasties adorning her perky tits. She’d want a badass edge to her stripper persona. She’d be cool and sexy and sensual in a rocker chic kind of way.
Kitty strides her way onto the stage, her clear stripper heels shining under the spotlights. Her stilettos click against the floor as she begins a slow, seductive sway of her hips. Her body is easily appreciated by men and women alike. Kitty is stacked nicely and curved in all the right places. Her pole-dancing workouts have kept her form nice and toned in a soft, feminine way. She is also au naturel, which seems to be a rare thing these days in the stripper profession.
Daniella pulls her eyes away from the dancer and glances around the room.
All eyes are on Kitty. Every man is watching her with wicked gleams in their eyes.
That has to be a heady feeling, being up on stage with everyone intently looking at you and only you.
She is mesmerized by the fact that, for a small sliver of time, girls like Kitty have the undivided attention of everyone in the room. Not to mention convenient access to several wealthy wallets. As she watches patrons slide money into Kitty’s G-string and throw wads of cash onto the stage, Daniella finds herself a little jealous. It’s a tough pill to swallow seeing a stripper making a fortune during a single dance while Daniella is hardly making ends meet, barely surviving to pay her bills, and making peanuts in tips at her momma and daddy’s diner. And here is Kitty, stripper extraordinaire, shaking her tits, gyrating her ass, and pulling in more dough with one dance than she does in two months. Fuck, she needs a new job.
Daniella can dance. She’s actually really good at dancing. Yes, her background is focused around being a classically trained ballerina, but dancing is dancing. She’s always been able to adapt her training and learn other styles with ease. And not only can she dance, but she’s kept her body in tip-top shape even after quitting ballet. She runs, lifts weights, and takes kickboxing and yoga classes on a weekly basis. And she still gives herself a few hours in the studio at least once a week. Dancing has always been something she loves. She just didn’t love ballet enough to stick with it. But Daniella still relishes in the moments where she can get lost in the music and freestyle her way across the hardwood floor of the small dance studio that resides on campus. That’s her favorite kind of dancing. There is no better feeling than letting loose and releasing all of her stress, emotions, and feelings through the movements of her body.
She watches Kitty climb up the pole centered on the main stage and slide down with ease. Her legs are spread wide, her stilettos pointed with perfect form. She throws her head back and a look of sensuality encompasses her face. She’s no amateur. Kitty has some serious stripper moves, and the catcalls followed by generous amounts of cash being thrown her way are proof.
Daniella’s eyes keep staring at the dollar bills strewn across the stage. She tips her bottle of beer to her mouth and finishes it off in three small gulps, never taking her eyes off the dancer. Her lips are numb and her brain is contemplating things she never would have thought possible. Loose and reckless would be the perfect explanation for her emotions.
Is she really thinking about getting a job at Wild Nights?
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s just the desperate financial situation she’s recently found herself in, but she can’t deny that she’s considering this. Daniella is considering the possibility of finding a different kind of job to supplement her pathetic income. If she got a job at a club like Wild Nights, she could make enough money to pay for tuition and quite possibly save up the funds she’ll need for graduate school.
She’s more than aware of the giant dilemma hovering over her get-rich-quick scheme. She’s not a stripper…but it can’t be that hard. Throw on some stilettos, wear a terribly indiscreet outfit, and slather her body with glitter and she would be all set. Her talent for dancing would speak for itself. Obviously she’s never danced in this type of capacity, but she could learn. Daniella could definitely learn.
She won’t let herself make any hasty decisions tonight—hasty, drunk decisions are never a good idea—but she’ll set this possibility to the side, enjoy the rest of her night, and then take another gander at this interesting development tomorrow…when she’s not boozed up and entranced by naked women shaking their implants in her face.
Daniella glances over at Devon in all of his buzzed-cut, military perfection. He’s just as mesmerized as she is. Everyone in the club is spellbound. He looks over at her with a sly smile etched on his smooth face, his eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Come over here.” He gestures for her to take a seat in his lap. She giggles, and her drunken body follows his command. She makes herself comfortable on Devon while they both continue to watch Kitty finish up her routine.
A few more dancers take the stage and she stays rooted in her seat…well, Devon’s lap. His arms are tightly wrapped around her waist and his chin rests on her shoulder. His warm breath brushes the sensitive spot behind her ear. She gets an idea and abruptly stands; he looks up at her in confusion.
“I’ll be right back,” she offers before heading towards a particular stripper.
Kitty stands by the bar in all of her stripper glory surrounded by several interested men. Daniella pushes her way past them.
“Excuse me,” she says and immediately grabs the stripper’s attention. “I’ve got a friend who deserves a lap dance. He’s a Marine and is home on leave. We’re celebrating his short freedom tonight,” she informs her.
“A Marine?” Kitty questions with interest.
Daniella nods her head. “Yeah, he’s right over there.” she points towards the table near the front of the stage where Devon is sitting. “How much for a lap dance?”
“Seventy-five for one song, One hundred and fifty for three.”
Shit. Daniella’s face falls with disappointment. Cash isn’t exactly easily accessible for her.
Kitty notices the expression on her face and chimes in with, “But since he’s a Marine, I’ll give him the military discount. Twenty-five for two songs.”
Daniella’s eye light up in surprise. “Really?” she asks and promptly hands her the money.
Kitty smiles and nods her head. “Of course,” she responds before striding on her endlessly tall stripper heels in the direction of Devon.
She stays at the bar, leaning against the marble surface whil
e she watches Kitty approach a very surprised Marine. The cheers from the group surrounding him are instantaneous. She smiles from the enthusiastic reactions as her eyes take in Kitty’s every seductive move. This woman could bring any man to his knees.
“Hey! Wilder! Glad you could make it tonight!” the bartender yells, and Daniella’s entire body stills in shock.
She slowly turns her attention towards the other end of the bar and finds him striding in her direction. Oh, shit, she thinks to herself as she quickly turns her back, desperately trying to hide herself from his piercing blue eyes.
She can’t let him see her. Not tonight…at his club.
She peeks out of her periphery and notices that he’s sidled up to the bar and having an animated discussion with the bartender. He hasn’t spotted her, and she’s not going to allow any more time for that uncomfortable situation to occur. He already made his opinion known about her visiting his club. The words he spoke repeat in her mind. “Wild Nights is not the kind of club a girl like you should be visiting.”
She feels like an errant child going against her parents’ wishes and she hates the fact that Penn can make her feel that way. It’s infuriating to say the least. Daniella is thankful that his attention is currently occupied, and she slyly slips past his unsuspecting form. Her feet make quick strides, practically sprinting towards the parking lot. Her friends are still in the club, having the time of their lives, and she’s being a coward. Blame it on Drunken Brain Syndrome. She convinces herself that if she weren’t suffering from DBS she wouldn’t have had any problems with striding up to Penn and saying hello.
She spots a row of cabs and proceeds to hop into one, giving the driver directions to her apartment. She sends Eliza and Sarah a text once the cab turns out of the parking lot.
Daniella: I hailed a cab back to the apartment. I’m not feeling too well. Have fun! Xoxo
Eliza: WHAT?! Are you crazy? Why did you leave by yourself?
Sarah: WHAT?! Where are you?
Daniella: Chill out. I’m fine. I’m about 5 min from home.
Southern Seduction Page 7