by Cat Porter
“Yeah, you’re right.” He smiled at me and his lips touched mine. The lights flashed off for an instant, and I settled back against Butler to watch the show.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, let’s hear it for one of your very, very favorite Tingle ladies… Honeeeeeysuckle!” The announcer’s velvety voice rippled through the room. Gavin DeGraw’s “Sweeter” blared over the speakers. A spotlight flashed on a tall redhead.
Heather slid down the pole on the main stage.
There goes one of my favorite songs.
She looked amazing. She must have gotten hair extensions, because now her red mane was incredibly full, and it wasn’t from teasing. It was sleek and shiny and flowed around her with every sensuous move she willed her body to make. Heatherlicious rocked a silver sequin drape halter top tied in the back over an itsy-witsy matching thong with super high silvery heels polishing off the look.
She pranced up and down the short walkway that led from the stage. She shook her long legs and curvy hips in tune with the driving beat of the music. The men around the edges of the stage hooted for her and clapped as she headed back to the pole. A sexy, daring smile was plastered on her red lips. She snaked herself up and down the pole in a fantastic way that surely made every woman in the audience only wish she could do.
Oh man. Someone else’s sugar indeed.
I could only imagine what having sex with her would be like. The girl worked it. She worked it hard. I clenched my hands together in my lap as I imagined her and Lock fucking. Raw images tripped through my fevered brain. Heather pulled on the tie on her halter top, and it dropped away.
She stroked her breasts with satisfaction and smiled at the men at the edge of the stage waving cash at her. She popped out a hip here and there at them. They stuffed her thong with bills. A couple of them purposely tossed money onto the dance floor out of her reach. With a smirk on her face Heather leaned over, her round, full ass high in the air, and snatched up the bills. She got on all fours and crawled like an alley cat towards the last bill. The men high-fived each other and cackled.
Heather split her legs out to the side. She raised her rear in the air giving us a full view of all of it and humped the stage, then smacked her own ass and rolled her pelvis over the floor as if she was desperate to be fucked and daring someone to do it.
More tequila, somebody please.
Honeysuckle then darted at the pole and lashed herself around it once more. She slid down the damn thing, one long leg out, her hair whipped in the air. Boner and Dawes whistled for their club girl.
Who the hell wouldn’t?
I grabbed Butler’s glass of beer and drained it.
“She’s good, huh?” Butler whispered in my ear.
I nodded against his chest. His hand roamed over my upper thigh. It felt like a lead weight pressing in on my flesh.
Had Ruby danced like on this very stage with Jump and Dig cheering her on? Dancing, screwing, driving fast, and puncturing her veins with chemicals. My sister had once been so good at all that. All for fun, all for men, all for the club, all to punish the daddy she didn’t have, all to make her momma blow her lid. All to put food on our table, keep a roof over our heads, feed our cars gas. Once upon a time that had been the good life for Grace and Ruby Hastings.
Butler peeled the empty beer glass from my grip. My eyes darted down at my white knuckles.
I blinked up at the stage, but my vision was blurry. Honeysuckle Heather was still holding court. The music surged, the men howled and whistled. Acid licked at my throat and spread its sour poison through my veins. Heather swung her hair in circles, and then she sprang back into a handstand. Very impressive on those damned shoes. The dollars cascaded in her direction once more.
I glanced across the table.
Lock stared at the stage, a cigarette dangled from his lips. He had to be reminiscing about fucking Honeysuckle Heather as he watched her dance. Even so, I couldn’t help but be transfixed by him at this very same moment. Something about his quiet bearing, the lean lines of his still body. All heat filled, combustible, restrained power.
Dammit, where’s the tequila?
Bear clapped Lock’s shoulder, said something in his ear and smirked. Lock nodded and scrunched his eyes. He grinned and took the cigarette out of his mouth. Just then those dark eyes cut to me and burned me through the smoke he exhaled over the table. My stomach seized. Butler’s fingers absently stroked up and down my arm. It felt like sandpaper rubbing against my skin.
“Be right back, got to hit the ladies’ room,” I whispered in Butler’s ear and quickly pushed off my chair. He nodded, his eyes never left La Honeysuckle on the stage. Shit, does every man turn to mush when titties and g-strings romp in front of him?
I charged to the back of the club through the thick crowd. I pushed through the bathroom door, leaned on a counter, and took in deep gulps of air. Goddamn, even the bathrooms were very clean and super snazzy, gone were the tiny, always grubby sinks and squeaky faucets. Why the hell did that make me sad? My head snapped up to the mirror.
Dark circles that even makeup couldn’t hide smudged the pale skin under my watery eyes. I rubbed my fingers over my pinched cheeks. I switched on the faucet and held out my wrists under the cold water. Much better. Sort of. I couldn’t tell anymore.
Two young women next to me traded lipsticks and giggled at the mirror. I pushed my hair back and dabbed at my face with a wet paper towel. I quickly re-applied my lip gloss then took out my cell phone and typed a text.
“On your way? Ready & waiting.”
I sent it and tucked my phone back in my pocket. I had to stay sane just a few more hours. Then all would be over. I hoped. With a final glance in the mirror, I exited the bathroom. The electric beat of Britney Spear’s hateful “Work Bitch” pulsated through the club. Shucks, I missed Honeysuckle’s grand finale.
Shadowy figures filled the hallway. The club was even more crowded than before. Cha-ching for the One-Eyed Jacks. Wouldn’t Dig have been proud?
Time to get back to my cozy table from Hell.
An arm hooked around my middle, and pulled me backwards. That familiar heady scent surrounded me and his dense weight pinned me against the wall.
Lock hissed in air. “Grace.”
“What are you doing?” I asked.
Arousal flared in my gut upon hearing his deep voice wrap around my name. His heat pulsed through my flesh. He pulled me into a semi-private alcove where the payphones used to be in the old days, but now was lined with a stylishly curvy purple banquette jammed with people drinking cocktails from fancy glasses. An eerie purplish light glowed over them as they smoked, necked, and gabbed.
He turned me in his arms to face him. “You okay?”
“Wish everyone would stop asking me that.” I pushed at his chest, and he pushed me against the wall by the upholstered bench. I bumped into the couple next to me, but they didn’t even notice.
“Baby—”
His warm liquor-scented breath on my skin made my insides clench.
“No. Let go Lock, come on.”
His fingers dug into my arms, and I gasped for air.
“I know this is shit tonight. I know.”
“You don’t know anything,” I said.
“I don’t want Heather. I don’t even like her.”
“Oh shut up—get off me!”
He yanked me in close to his chest, his eyes were huge, his jaw tight. “I need you to know that I’m on your side, Grace. Whatever’s going on.”
I swam in his gaze. My throat tightened. He was suspicious of me, too. But he was giving me room. He believed in me.
“This has to be so hard for you,” he said. “You’re grieving for your sister, and you feel like you’re betraying an old friend and yourself all at the same time.”
For God’s sake, stop reading my soul.
My eyes drifted back to the hallway.
“Look at me!” He shook me. “Dammit, you can’t even look me in the eye anymore.”
&
nbsp; I frowned. All these weeks Lock and I had managed to be civil to one another. No drama, all efficiency. But look him in the eyes? No, I couldn’t do that. That would cut me wide open, and there would be blood. Lots of blood. I’d crumble into a heap on the floor then beg him to collect the pieces.
“It’s okay, baby,” he said, his voice soft, low.
“No it’s not,” I whispered. My voice was on the edge of breaking. His warm lips brushed my ear, and a shiver went through me.
“It’s okay, because you got me,” he breathed. “You deserve better than all this, but I got your back. Always have.”
I frowned. His woodsy tea aroma rose from his neck. My gaze skimmed the edge of the eagle’s wing which poked up out of the collar of his black shirt. Luckily, my hands were crushed to my chest. If I were able to wrap my arms around him, I would have been lost down a cartoon-like spiral tunnel. I had to keep it together. I planted my forehead in his upper chest.
“No matter what, I’ve got your back,” he said into my hair. My lips brushed over the arrow charm and bead on the leather cord he wore around his neck.
The arrow… protection, defense, power, force, movement.
My vision clouded. I would need all those virtues tonight. Because tonight I was determined it would all end. I had to end it.
But couldn’t I savor this rare, potent sensation of sanctuary and promise just for a moment?
“Everything unlocks with you, Grace. Anything good suddenly fits. You’re my key. I found you, and I’m not letting you go. Not ever,” he said. “I’ve waited too long for you.”
I stared up at him.
Don’t let me go.
But I couldn’t say that to him. Not yet. He was confessing to me right here in the shadows of an inflamed, drunken crowd, music thumping through us, weird purple lights glowing around us.
“Let me be your key,” he said.
I didn’t know what to do with those beautiful words. My soul soared. I yanked it back to earth.
“Lock…”
“I only want to hear my real name out of that mouth when we’re together.” His head dipped closer to mine, and his thumb stroked the sensitive skin of my throat. “Say it.”
I knew in my soul there would be no turning back for me once I said it. Except for my nephew, this man was the only good part of me.
Yes, he was a part of me. I didn’t want to fight it anymore. I couldn’t.
“Miller,” I breathed.
A small smile formed on his mouth.
I brushed over his warm lips with my fingers. “You know, I once let myself think that we were possible,” I said. “But look where we are now. How are we ever…?”
He squeezed my arms. “Do you forgive me?”
We both knew what he was referring to. It didn’t have to be spelled out. The disappointment, the regret, the hurt smoldered still. But we both understood what the terms “loyalty,” “club business,” and “between a rock and a hard place” meant, didn’t we? I hated that we had to tangle with these thorns before we even had a chance to come up for air. Then again, maybe some of us have to get really dirty before we can become truly clean.
“I forgive you,” I whispered. My fingers traced the line of his rigid jaw.
He bowed his head and took in a deep breath. “This shit will be done tonight.” His hands cradled my face, our eyes locked. “You just got to believe in us. Nothing else matters. Not a goddamn thing.”
The edges of my lips tipped up.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Are we always going to have these heavy-duty conversations in loud, public places?”
Miller chuckled. His mouth descended over mine, and his tongue swept over the seam of my lips. I opened up to him. His fantastic taste bloomed in my mouth. I didn’t think I’d have that again.
New dreams.
But our reality was cold and hard and waited for us in the next room. Not to mention, my other harsh reality that was on its way to the Tingle right at this very moment.
My hands pushed against Lock’s chest. “I better get back, before someone sees,” I said. “Don’t come out for a bit.”
He released his hold on my body, but his eyes remained on me. I drank in the sensation for a long moment. I turned and strode towards the main room.
At the table Jump, Butler, and Alicia laughed over something Boner had said. Two dancers swung around the poles on the two mini-stages. The other dancers made their way around the room in new outfits and dazzling smiles to score their lucrative lap dances or to chat up the men and get them to buy them overpriced, watered-down drinks. Everyone knew the score in the playground, and everyone liked to play the game. I settled in my chair once more. Butler pulled me back into his arms against his chest.
“You good?” he whispered in my ear. His arm snaked around my middle.
“Yeah, sure,” I nodded. “Got a little air outside.”
Heatherlicious strutted over to our table. She now sported a skin-tight, black lycra mini dress that had gaping horizontal slashes all down the front revealing most of her ripe, bare breasts, a diamond-studded belly ring, and her silver sequined thong. Her big green eyes devoured our table.
Sorry, Lock’s not here right now.
“Heather, you were fabulous tonight!” Alicia said.
Heather leaned over and gave Alicia a quick kiss on the cheek.
“Oh, thanks! It’s a new piece I’ve been working on for a couple of weeks.”
“You were sensational,” said Alicia. She beamed The Smile at her. “Always are, babe.” The two of them nattered on.
Yeah. From “two-bit twat” to “fabulous” and “sensational.” Alicia was quite the club den mother.
Alicia squeezed Heather’s arm. “Go, do your thing, hon.”
Heather turned and tilted her head at Dawes who sat in between me and Alicia. She dragged her fingers through his mess of curly blonde hair. “Hey honey, how did you like the show?”
“You were amazing,” Dawes said, his jaw slack. Honeysuckle grinned and slid into his lap.
“Oh, that’s what I like to hear!” she said and let out a giggle. Her arm snaked around his shoulder.
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I took it out and read the response to my text. I texted back: “See you then.”
“Who’s calling this late?” Butler asked through a haze of smoke.
“It’s Alex checking in,” I said without looking up. “He doesn’t sleep much anymore.” That was true, but it wasn’t Alex texting me. My fingers touched the screen to delete the message thread. I tucked my phone back in my pocket. Next to me Dawes rattled on about Heather’s sexier-than-sin dance moves and hotter-than-hot bod when her eyes came up over his head and landed on me.
Her scarlet lips tightened. I stared back at her, my face blank. This was a strip club, after all. You come here to stare at living porn, and sometimes it stares back at you. And you certainly pay a high price for the privilege.
I didn’t move a muscle, didn’t even shoot her a smirk. Her eyes darted to Butler then narrowed over me.
“Moved on, Vanilla?” she asked.
Hell no.
My lips curled into a smile. “You get paid to tease cock with a full wallet, Honeysuckle, not be chatty with me,” I said. Heather’s face froze. “You better get to wiggling that ass. I can hear the clock ticking on those tips you want tonight.” Her face blanched under her spray tan.
“Is there a problem?” Butler’s voice drummed over my shoulder.
Heather shook her head. “No, sorry,” she said. She swallowed hard and returned her attention to Dawes.
“You interested in a private show, honey? I’ll make it special just for you.” Heather leaned into him and whispered in his ear. Dawes’s grinned. She took his hand in hers and began to get off his lap.
Yay, VIP room for Dawes and Heather.
Three fresh packs of cigarettes smacked down on the center of the table. My gaze shot up. Lock flicked open his Zippo lighter and settled
back into his seat. Those beautiful austere angles of his face were illuminated by the glow of the orange-yellow flame as he lit his cigarette. Heather slid back into Dawes’s lap.
But of course. Change of plans. No VIP room for Dawes.
“Sweet,” Boner muttered. He grabbed a pack of smokes and picked it open. My gaze slid to Heather. She stared at Lock and bit her bottom lip. Dawes tucked a number of bills in her thong and snapped the lycra material of her scrap of a dress back against her skin. The boy wanted his time.
Heather’s face bent down to his. She looked lost for a moment. Then her fingertips rubbed over the wad of money now in her thong and suddenly her confusion transformed into a show-stopping smile. She stood up and began grinding over him.
Hmm. Was this lap dance for Dawes, or was it really for Lock?
“What the hell was that about?” Butler’s fingers dug into my jaw and wrenched my head back towards him. Pain flared in my neck and the air choked in my throat.
“You want to tell me why that bitch sliced you, you tore her a new one, then she eye-fucked Lock just like you been doing all night?” his voice hissed in my ear.
“Let go, dammit! You’re hurting me.”
Something flashed in front of us.
“Get your fucking hands off her or I’m going to break them!” Lock pounded his fist on the table inches away from Butler’s face. He had leaned all the way over the table to do it with Boner next to him.
“What the fuck, man?” Boner’s eyes were on fire.
Butler released his painful grip on my face. I pushed back against the table and rubbed my neck.
“Sorry, baby,” he muttered. He raised his hands at Boner and Lock. Alicia’s eyes had gone round, and she shook her head, her hand squeezed her husband’s arm. Jump met my gaze and remained still. He mouthed the words “young and the restless” at me.
I shot him the finger.
Bear pulled Lock back off the table, and clamped a hand on Boner’s shoulder. All three parked themselves down in their chairs once more but continued to glare at Butler. Boner drained his glass as if his life depended on it.