by Logan Chance
I turn off the water as my mom wraps Felicity up in a fluffy pink towel with dolphins on it. We get Felicity all settled in her chair with a snack and my body warms up just thinking about my bed.
I’m so lucky to have my mother here. Working nights would never work without her.
“Why don’t you go lay down? I’ve got her,” my mother says, moving around the kitchen while picking up dishes from Felicity’s breakfast from earlier.
I smile at her magical words, and kiss my daughter on the top of her head. And then, I rush off to my room.
“Oh, and Emma.” I wonder what she’s going to say. The smile in her voice tells me I’m not going to like it. “I’ll make sure Felicity keeps quiet. I know how hard it is to sleep when she’s screaming.”
I shake my head before continuing down the hall. She made her point. Why should I be mad at the neighbor, Axel, when I ask for the same consideration when I nap? My mom’s a smart lady. I guess that’s where I get it from.
I dive under the covers, letting my body melt into the mattress. And I refuse to think of Axel and his intense green eyes, or his stupid muscles.
“All clean.” I pull Felicity out of the tub, inhaling her just washed hair. She giggles. Her little hands come up and squish my cheeks as she kisses me, making my heart melt. Everything I went through to get us to where we are is all worth it because of her. Because of moments like this, with clean hair, and squishy kisses.
“Read Mommy,” she says after she’s tucked into bed. It’s a request I get every night. And I’m so happy I’m able to be here for her. I love this little girl more than I ever thought I could love anything in my life.
Some people think exotic stripping is a disgusting profession, but I’m grateful for it everyday when I get to read my daughter to sleep, and pay for things she wants. Besides, it’s not like I get totally naked either. I’m more of just an exotic dancer. One who gets paid big big bucks to parade around in lingerie and bikinis.
“She just fell asleep,” I say, hitching my duffle bag on my shoulder. I leave early so I can do my hair and make-up at the club to ensure Felicity doesn’t have to see me all dolled up. Thankfully the owner is nice enough to put my stage time later at night, so I can put my daughter to sleep. My mother sips her tea on the couch. I kiss the top of her head when I walk by her. “Have fun tonight. You two don’t get into any trouble.”
“I was planning on inviting our neighbor over.” She lifts her mug up to her face, trying to hide her grin.
“Have fun with that,” I say, walking toward the door. “His name is Axel by the way. If you’re going to be inviting people over you might as well know their name.”
“Thanks for the info,” she says as I walk out the door unable to stop myself from smiling. She’s such a crazy old lady.
My feet are killing me when I pull into the driveway after my shift at the club. My driveway. To my house. The house I worked my ass off to own. And I do own it. It’s sometimes hard to imagine me as a homeowner. But here I am, owning it.
I shut off the engine to my car, unable to exit just yet.
The exhaustion is real.
Tonight was brutally busy, which is evident by the amount of cash stuffed in my duffel bag. I normally go to the bank as soon as I get off work. I like to deposit my tips so I don't have a lot of cash around, but I’m so tired all I can think about is getting as much sleep as possible before Felicity wakes up.
Gathering what little energy I have, I push out of the car and walk to the trunk to retrieve my bag. Headlights cut across the lawn, and I flinch, hoping it’s not who I think it is. I ease my duffel bag out of my trunk, getting a glimpse of what I’m wearing. “Shit,” I say under my breath.
I was tired when my shift was over, and it’s still sweltering outside being summer in Vegas, so I didn’t bother changing. I’m fully regretting that decision right now.
Because right now I’m in tiny sparkly-red booty shorts with matching bra with only a small cut off white shirt thrown over it. I move quickly toward my house just as the sound of a car door slamming shut echoes in the night, or should I say early morning?
I close my eyes and tell myself to ignore it, but my traitorous body has other ideas. My head turns just in time to see Axel staring at me, leaning against his Range Rover. My body burns as he takes in my scantily-clad form, and I hate myself for it.
And I hate myself even more that I like his eyes on me.
“You must be the new neighbor. I’m Damien.”
Wait.
There are two of them? Fuck. An exact replica of the man who haunted my nap stands in front of me. He moves closer, and I can spot the difference between the two. Damien’s eyes don’t hold the intensity, the same fire, Axel’s held earlier today. Damien’s eyes seem more aloof. I clear my throat before shaking his outstretched hand.
“I’m Emma, and yes, I’m your new neighbor.” My stupid eyes drift over to the real Axel, who stands near the rear of the Rover. And there’s the intensity I dreamed about earlier. His eyes blaze into mine before making a slow, torturous trek over my body. My skin lights up with goosebumps. And I hate myself even more for not being able to ignore him.
They may be twins, but I would be able to pick Axel out of a line up of a thousand clones. My nipples react to the idea of there being more copies of this man, but I push that thought aside immediately.
“I heard you met my brother, Axel, this morning. We also have another brother, Ben, but he lives with his fiancée. He comes over almost every day so you’ll be seeing him too.”
“There’s one more?” I gulp away the urge to laugh as my weird fantasy of having more of them becomes a reality. I wonder for a moment if the universe is granting my thoughts, maybe I can think about having my money multiply.
Now that’s the dream.
Axel moves next to his brother, catching my question, he decides to answer. “Yeah, we’re triplets.”
Damien opens his mouth as if he’s going to say something, Axel elbows him before he can. They do some weird triplet silent mind conversation before Damien nods. “It was nice meeting you, Emma. I’m going to bed. It was a long night.”
He leaves me alone with Axel. A trickle of sweat moves down my spine. The hot air combined with Axel’s presence makes the heat unbearable. I shift back and forth on my tired feet sinking into my flip flops as I wait for him to say something.
I watch as his eyes slip down to my pink toes before traveling back up my legs, stopping for a while when he gets to my shorts before moving up to my bare stomach. Goosebumps break out over my arms as more sweat gathers under my heavy hair. Watching him assess me is the most erotic thing I’ve ever witnessed. He isn’t even touching me, but I can feel his gaze everywhere.
“Hey, my eyes are up here.” My voice is soft. Not exactly the tone I was going for at all.
He takes his time making it up to my face and off my body. His lazy smile is crooked and adorable. It nearly knocks me off my feet.
“Yes, I get it. I’m dressed like a stripper.” His nostrils flare at the mention of being a stripper, so I decide to lay it all out for him. “Because, surprise, I am a dancer. And I don’t do free shows, so if you want to keep eye-fucking me I suggest you come to my job. I’m off work.”
He smirks. “You’re a stripper?”
“Dancer,” I correct him. “Technically I don’t strip, but the way you’re looking at me right now makes me feel cheap.”
He shuts his eyes, holding out his hand. “I’m so sorry if you think I’m looking at you wrong. Promise.” He smiles, peeking one eye open. “I’m just kind of having a hard time keeping my eyes off you.”
“Well,” I don’t know what to say to his words, “try harder.”
3
Axel
Oh, I’m pretty fucking hard all right. Damn, she’s a fucking knockout. That outfit she’s in looks like it was spray painted on. I wasn’t trying to treat her like a cheap stripper, I was just trying my best to form words while her bod
y grabbed all my attention.
“What the hell was that all about?” Damien asks when I walk into the house.
“She’s a stripper.” I drop to the couch and run my hands over my face. “Well, dancer, but you know what I mean.”
“Ok, and?” Damien watches me with a puzzling face.
“She just yelled at me for staring at her like a piece of meat. She said I made her feel cheap.” I scrub my hands over my face again, still bewildered by the whole exchange.
Damien releases a loud laugh getting up and handing me a beer before plopping down on the couch next to me. “Holy shit. That's priceless.” He can’t stop laughing.
It’s not that funny.
Seriously, it’s not.
“It’s not funny.” I take a long draw, squeezing the bottle while wishing it was stronger.
“Actually, it’s very funny. You of all people got yelled at for objectifying someone.” Damien laughs again. “Why didn’t you want me to tell her who we were?”
“At first, I didn’t want her to know because I didn’t want her to see me differently.” I don’t mind admitting it to Damien. He understands how much I hate being objectified, and I didn’t want her to know I’m one of the infamous Trifectas because I wanted her to see me as a person.
That fucking backfired.
Ben, Axel, and Damien our names are infamous in the erotic dancing world, not just in Vegas, but all over the world. We’re the Trifecta. We’re B.A.D. The triplets who took over the stripping world, and we haven’t stopped gaining fame since the day we stepped on stage.
Ben the oldest, loved the attention he received from being a part of the Trifecta. He took home a new woman, or women almost every night, refusing to do repeats, until he met Clara. I never thought Ben would be the first to fall in love, and give up his ways, but as soon as he met Clara at her evil stepsister’s bachelorette party he was a goner. He’s been head over heels since.
Damien, the youngest, used to be like Ben, just a milder version. He would bring home women in droves leaving them weak and in love, yet never found the one to make him want to be a one woman man. After a couple years in the business, Damien stepped back from his whoring ways. He began to focus on making our brand, and he did such a good job he made us worldwide. Willie, the owner of the club we work at, took us in, and taught us everything we needed to know to become the Trifecta.
Damien made us better. And now that we’re taking over the club, the plan since Willie took us in, Damien is only focused on making the club the best it can be. No more time for women in Damien’s busy business life.
I think it has more to do with just being busy making the Trifecta the most well known erotic dancers. Even if he won’t admit it, I’m pretty sure Damien’s getting sick of all the women treating him like he’s nothing more than a muscular body. I had brought him over to the dark side, he just refuses to admit it.
It’s exhausting being treated like a plaything.
Being hollered at like we don’t have anything meaningful to say.
Me, I hated it almost from the very start. Women groping me as if they have the right, as if they own my body, and can treat it however they please. The other dancers laugh at me because of my hatred toward the way we’re treated, but I don’t care. Well, to be fair my emotions didn’t turn to hatred until I had to get a restraining order on one lady. She came in begging for a VIP experience and for some reason right after she left the club she decided I was the man for her. I cringe remembering all the attempts she did to get my attention.
I do my job, and I do it fucking well. But when I’m done, I leave to shower the hundreds of perfumes clinging to my skin. I can’t wait until we take over the club, so I won’t have to dance anymore. The thought that we’re almost done stripping is what keeps me going.
It motivates me.
“I’m going to shower.” I finish my beer on my way to the kitchen, tossing it in the recycling. Damien’s laughter follows me down the hallway to my private bathroom.
Asshole.
The hot water feels amazing on my tight muscles, but it doesn’t do anything to relax me. The sight of Emma dressed in her tiny shorts and cut off top is burned in my brain. If I ever lose my memories I hope that one doesn’t vanish. Every time I blink the image of her shiny shorts, tanned legs, breasts straining against the tight material of her top come to mind. My cock hardens to the point it’s painful as it demands attention. I stare down at it in disgust, thinking of the women who go home and finger themselves to the thought of me. Fuck, I’m no better than them.
I ignore my dick as I snap off the shower and dry off before putting lotion on. The three of us are particular with our skin and our bodies. Our bodies are our money makers, so the three of us keep a regimen of body care. We work out every day, and have excellent skin care products. It helps that we’re the Trifecta. We get sent products to test out daily.
Sure, being part of the Trifecta does have its perks.
Thinking of perks, I glance down groaning at the huge bulge punching out my boxer briefs. I climb into bed not paying attention to the engorged monster.
I lay there with my aching dick, doing my best not to address its needs. There will be no sleep for me until I get it to go down, but I refuse to jerk off. I’m better than that. I have to be, or I’m a hypocrite. My mind wanders back to work tonight. All the women pawing at me, rubbing their tits against me. I try to think of the mingling smells of their perfume, but all I can think of is Emma, making my erection impossible to handle.
All the women I picture turn into versions of Emma. The hands pawing me transform into light pink fingernails on dainty hands. The tight dresses turn into sparkly red shorts and barely-there white t-shirts displaying full under boob. I want to forget the light vanilla smell with a hint of sweat, but it’s as if she’s standing in my room, permeating not only my sense of smell, but my whole body with her essence.
Fuck.
I push off my boxer briefs. My eyes squeeze shut as I grab my shaft with one hand, biting down on my bottom lip to keep from groaning too loud.
Emma’s face comes to mind.
Her full plump lips give a devious smile before they stretch over the head of my cock. Her whiskey-colored eyes connect with mine as she moves down my length, taking as much as she can, before they go wide when the tip hits the back of her throat.
My hand goes faster as I picture her mouth moving over me. I imagine her sucking my dick, making her cheeks go hollow. But fuck, it’s not enough.
I keep stroking, imagining her lips all over me. My dick sliding in and out of her pretty lips.
And then I picture her naked. Her full tits in my hands as I slam my cock deep inside her. Ah, fuck. She’s so hot.
I can’t stop the image of her tits as I fuck her on my bed.
My heart hammers inside my chest, the blood in my veins rushing throughout my body at a rapid speed.
I’m close to coming, and the thought of Emma underneath me turns me on more than any woman ever has before.
I want her.
Bad.
And as I grit my teeth through my orgasm I realize I should not be having a thing for my neighbor.
4
Emma
Is there a certain type of soap I can use to wash away the way Axel studied me tonight? I feel his eyes everywhere.
I’m furious at myself for letting him get to me. I swore off dating men the moment I found out I was pregnant with Felicity. And then, I realized her father was married. Yeah, I know how to pick ‘em.
Anyway, I’m not going to let one gorgeous neighbor ruin my vow to keep my head down. My goal in life is to make as much money as I can so I can open my own yoga studio.
I can’t let anything stand in my way of fulfilling my dreams.
Like a green-eyed sexy man.
No.
I check on Felicity one more time before I climb into bed and kick the covers to the bottom of the bed. The heat pounds against the house, seeping in wherever i
t can.
I close my eyes and Axel appears shirtless and covered in sweat. My eyelids snap open and I stare at the blackness of my room. Sleep will not be had tonight without the thought of Axel burning bright in my brain. I toss. I turn. I can’t sleep.
I don’t really know what to do right now. Part of me wants to run over to his house, knock on his door and have him greet me with kisses.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight. No, my goals are my priorities, and I can’t let one extremely gorgeous neighbor deter me from that.
I’ll just have to pretend he doesn’t exist.
Loud banging penetrates my dream, interrupting Axel’s tongue as it makes it way up my calf. I smack the mattress wanting ten more minutes of sleep, but the banging sound is persistent. I hear Felicity's giggling somewhere in the backyard where it seems the noise is coming from.
When I get to the backyard, I rub my eyes, wondering if I’m still dreaming. My barren backyard is now sporting a half-finished play structure, complete with a shirtless Axel hammering away as if he stepped right out of my dreams and into my backyard. Felicity stands next to him. And my breath hitches when I notice she’s swinging a pink plastic baby hammer.
“What’s going on here?”
My mom comes out of the slider with a bottle of water and a sippy cup in her hands. “He showed up this morning and asked if he could start working on it. He felt bad for yelling at Felicity. He explained he didn’t want to be known as the meanie neighbor.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what this is about.” I cross my arms and glare at him.
“What are you talking about? And why are you attempting to set him on fire with your eyes?”
I sigh, running my fingers through my hair. “He came home last night at the same time I did. My shift yesterday was brutal. I was only wearing my work shorts and a tiny shirt which showed the bottom of my bra. He wouldn’t stop staring at me.”