by Julie Cannon
I couldn’t help but laugh. Almost all of my gigs were birthday parties. “I do a lot of birthdays. Can you be a bit more specific? A name or maybe an address.”
She rattled off an address I vaguely recognized, but the name Ann rang more than a bell.
A collage of faces flashed through my mind, one standing out above the rest. Maybe. No, no way in hell could it be Riley Stephen.
“Okay,” I said masking my disappointment. “Where and when?”
We finally settled on Tuesday of the following week. When she gave me the name of a hotel, I immediately said, “I only dance. I don’t turn tricks. I don’t care how much you offer me. And I tell two people where I’m going and call them the minute I’m done.” It was my security system.
“Sounds like a smart plan,” she said and I thought I detected a slight smile in her voice. “And all I want is a dance, nothing more,” she reiterated.
I didn’t say anything for a few moments, my mind whirling with images of the women at Ann’s party. I was a good judge of people and none of them pinged my creep radar. Riley, however, pinged something altogether different.
“Hello?” the woman said.
“I’m here. Okay. What’s your name?” The silence on the other end of the line was so long I thought she’d hung up. How difficult was it to give me a name? Unless she was making one up. I heard an intake of breath.
“Riley.”
The name took my breath away, and before I could say anything, she hung up.
Chapter Eight
I picked up the room key from the front desk clerk, who gave me a long, suspicious look. I’d never seen her before and I’d gotten over what people thought of me a long time ago. I liked what I saw in the mirror every morning and that’s all that mattered. People who judged others rarely could stand up to similar scrutiny.
The elevator whisked me to the seventh floor and I followed the signs to room 722. I pulled out my phone and pushed Lou’s face on speed dial.
“I’m here.”
Even though I had a key, I knocked on the door.
I would have recognized her anywhere. She was shorter than I was by quite a few inches, but when you were almost six feet tall, who wasn’t? And there were other differences. She was wearing a pair of navy chinos and a green shirt that made her eyes look dark and smoky. She looked nervous, very nervous.
“Hello, Riley.” I really liked saying her name.
“Come in,” she said looking over my shoulder and out into the hall. Did she expect to see a familiar face? Paparazzi?
I checked in with Lou, giving her the specifics of the gig, and stepped farther into the room. It was nice, as far as hotel rooms go. At least it was a suite and not one large room with a very, very large bed in the middle.
I looked through the room, making sure there were no surprises. I’d never had any, but I didn’t want to start now.
“Shall we take care of business before we get down to business?” I’d never figured out how to ask for my payment, but this job was one where you got paid up front.
The envelope Riley handed me was thick and made of high-quality paper. No generic Office Depot, five hundred to a box envelopes for this woman. Classy.
Riley looked like she was about to pass out. “Why don’t you sit down and make yourself comfortable.” I pulled two small Bose speakers from my bag. I’d invested in the smallest, most powerful speakers I could afford and there was hardly a room that they couldn’t fill with my music.
All set up, I turned my back to Riley and took a few deep breaths to gather my thoughts. I touched an icon on my phone. I closed my eyes and the music took over my body.
I’d chosen my clothes carefully for this evening, which was out of character. I had a standard set of uniforms for any occasion, but for some reason I’d been indecisive for this event.
You can’t strip in just anything. It has to be easy to open and get out of. Nothing ruins a good strip like jumping around on one leg trying to get your other leg out of stubborn pants. I settled on a pair of black Levi’s 501s. I can make opening the five buttons last close to five minutes with the right crowd.
Stripping is all about seduction, plain and simple. There were several keys to a successful, and profitable session, and I had worked my ass off to learn and to perfect them.
Layers of clothes are probably the most important element of stripping in that it gives you more to peel off. More to take off equals a longer dance, which equals more tips. Clients expect more than a fifteen-minute dance for their five hundred.
Lighting is an important component for setting the mood. This room, however, was hotel dim and much too sterile. I took several thin scarves from my bag and draped them over the lampshades.
A slow, steady beat filled the room. It had taken me months to find the right set of music. I listened to hundreds, if not a thousand tracks to find just the right mix as well as the right bridge between them. Transitioning between songs was tricky, and I was lucky I had a guy friend who was a master at it.
I stood in front of Riley, my back to her. The music began, a sultry beat and I stepped away in a slow, seductive strut. I’d always been told my ass was one of my best features and I had to agree.
Stripping is not easy. Taking your clothes off is, but dancing and looking sexy without falling over was something altogether different. The girls at the Candy Store had taught me that what you do with your hands is important. Move them smooth and lightly. Glide my fingertips up and down my body, stroking my neck and collarbone. Touch strategically; a light touch here or there is much more effective. Touch your body like you would want to be touched, they said. And they were right, it worked.
What you did with your clothes was equally important. Tug at the hem of your shirt, play with the collar, the buttons, raise your skirt a few inches to give a sense of what’s coming. Use anticipation for maximum achievement. Arch your back, roll your hips, and spread your legs farther apart. Caress yourself and draw out the moment of reveal as long as you can. And never, ever rush a striptease. The slower you go, the easier it is for your audience to remember every minute.
It didn’t take more than four or five minutes before it was clear that Riley was unlike anyone I’d danced for before. She didn’t move to the edge of her seat in anticipation or reach out to stop me when I stepped away. There was no sign she was going to encourage me to take off my clothes or reward me when I did. With anyone else I might have felt uncomfortable and wary, but for some reason I didn’t. On the contrary, it was as though I was dancing just for her, not stripping, and that made me uncomfortable. I pushed those thoughts to the side.
I ended my routine with placing a soft kiss on her cheek, just as I had before. Her skin was as soft as I remembered, and again, I was shaken with the intimacy. God, she smelled good, and I knew I’d remember her scent for a long, long time.
When I opened the bathroom door several minutes later, Riley was taking a long drink from a sweating bottle of water. Her head was back, exposing her long, smooth neck. My heart started hammering and I wanted to lick every inch of it.
She caught me staring and I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I tried to cover it by gathering up my gear but knew she’d seen me gawking at her. The tension in the air was thick, very different than any other time I’d danced. This had turned personal, very personal. I needed to get out of there now.
Riley held out another envelope before I reached the door. It was as thick as the first one but I didn’t look inside.
“I hope we can do this again,” Riley said, her voice shaky.
I thought about her invitation for a few moments, a thousand thoughts shooting through my brain. Do I dare? Will it be like this again? What will happen next time? Will I feel like this again? Suddenly, I wanted to know.
“I’d like that,” I said and meant it.
Chapter Nine
The third time I answered Riley’s call, I was like a caged animal needing to escape. There had been hardly a night t
hat went by that I didn’t think about her. What was she doing? Was she married? Did she have a girlfriend? Did she scamper between the sheets on the hotel bed and masturbate the minute she closed the door behind me? Did she go home and do it there? Go to a bar and pick up a woman? Or was her libido bottled up so tight she was about to explode like a neutron bomb? Why did she do this? I’d stopped trying to figure out why people did the things they did. Some were so bizarre it made my head hurt to even think about them. But I wanted to know what made Riley tick, and I had a way to do that.
Early on in my dancing, one of the girls at the Candy Store told me about a movie made in the mid-nineties starring Demi Moore, appropriately titled Striptease. I’d watched it on Netflix at least a dozen times and had been fascinated by not only Demi’s moves but her kick-ass attitude during her dances. I watched it again before heading to Riley’s hotel.
I hadn’t choreographed my dance, preferring to let the music take me where my body wanted to go. I was envisioning what that could be, and I almost passed the front door. That was another item on my mystery of Riley list. Why a hotel—and not a cheap one at that. The rooms had been suites, and not the Embassy Suites caliber. They would have cost a fortune if she paid by the minute it was used.
I looked at myself in the mirrored elevator doors as I rode to the seventeenth floor. I was wearing a suit with a bold patterned tie. However, no one, other than the front desk clerk, had given me a second glance. I opened my overcoat and felt my demeanor immediately change. I was sexy, sassy, and in command. I would take what I wanted.
To say that Riley was stunned by my dance would have been an understatement. Her breathing was ragged, her face flushed. She looked distressed for most of the dance. When I straddled her and ripped open my shirt, I thought she was going to take me right there. I would not have objected. But she didn’t, and by the time the music stopped, I was completely spent, emotionally and physically. My hands were shaking and it took me longer than usual to get dressed. I barely made it home before relieving myself of the pent-up pounding in my clit. My dreams that night consisted of a very different ending to the evening.
Chapter Ten
It was Monday, the second week of my new job, and I was already exhausted. I was emotionally spent, my dreams lasting most of the night. I kept seeing the look of pure, raw desire in Riley’s eyes. I felt the need to get lost in something primal, something I’d never experienced before. I woke tired and emotionally drained. It was going to be a long day.
Today we were having a meeting with the big boss. Joan, my new-employee-work-buddy, was telling me what to expect as we squeezed into the crowded elevator.
“Riley is really awesome,” she began explaining, but my mind had stopped thinking clearly when Joan said her name. It couldn’t be, could it? Riley was an uncommon name, especially for a woman, but the world wasn’t that small. Or was it? I wondered when my Riley would call again.
“She makes everyone feel comfortable and knows most of our names. I don’t know how she does it.”
We stopped at another floor and the people in the vestibule took one look at our sardine can and passed on getting in. Thank goodness.
“She is funny too, tells great stories. She loves to tell jokes and is really friendly. She should have been a stand-up comedian instead of a CFO.”
Joan leaned in close and whispered in my ear. “And she’s drop-dead gorgeous.”
I glanced at Joan as if to say, you’re cruising the boss? Wow, what a place.
I’d finally received the call from Allied Performance, and by the time all my paperwork was done, my pee analyzed and my background checked, it had been a week. I’d been on payroll for five days and loved it.
I didn’t want to sit near the front, but Joan complained she forgot her glasses. “I want to be able to see her, not some blurry blob in the front of the room.”
Joan had been a great buddy so far and I felt that there was a good chance that we could be friends. She introduced me to everybody on my floor and the ones above and below and everybody we met in the cafeteria. We were sitting with other people in my department and they were talking about the latest Star Wars movie when the hairs on the back of my neck started to tingle. I always trusted my gut. A voice coming from the back of the room made my pulse jump.
“Good morning, I apologize for running a few minutes late. I was waiting for one last piece of updated data for this meeting and it just came in.”
My heart beat fast as the voice grew louder. I didn’t hear exactly what she said after that, the roar in my ears drowning out any other sound. The woman who was the boss of my boss was none other than my Riley.
I stared at Riley as she held the attention of everyone in the room. She was absolutely stunning in a navy suit and pale blue blouse. Her heels made her legs look a hundred miles long. Her hair was pulled away from her face. I probably wouldn’t recognize her if I saw her on the street.
Joan nudged me in the side with her elbow, snapping me out of my trance. “She’s going to read your name and you need to stand up.”
I could barely breathe and hoped my legs would work when she called my name. I was mesmerized by the way her lips moved, the way her voice sounded, the way she walked across the room for God’s sake.
Joan nudged me again and I realized that Riley had called my name. She was looking around the room expectantly, but she had no idea who she was looking for. I took a deep breath and stood.
I knew the instant she saw me. She stopped midsentence and all the color drained from her face. The paper in her hand drifted to the floor. Just as quickly she recovered as if she hadn’t just seen me, the woman she paid one thousand dollars a night to strip in front of her.
I raised my chin just a fraction, either in defiance or insolence, as if I were saying, I dare you to fire me. I wasn’t ashamed of stripping. It was an honest job and I loved doing it. The cash was also great. My night job had no impact on my day job and was nobody’s business. Until those business lines crossed.
“Welcome to Allied, Dana,” Riley said, stumbling over my name.
Joan pulled at my arm as Riley continued down the list of names. “Do you know her?” she whispered.
“What? No, of course not,” I said. In all the years I’d been stripping, despite the hundreds of women who’d seen me almost naked, I’d never run into one of them on the street or in Target. It would have to be Riley and it would have to be here. Just my luck.
“She sure acted like she’d seen a ghost,” Joan said for colorful commentary.
“What?” I asked again, not expecting an answer. “She seemed fine to me,” I said, wanting to deflect any suspicion away from Riley.
“She has lunch with all the new employees. It’s on your calendar for Wednesday.”
New employee lunch? I was going to have lunch with my Riley? That would be more than a little awkward and weird. Riley looked like she’d rather wrestle a porcupine than have lunch with me. Shit, this had suddenly gotten very complicated.
“Come on.” Joan pulled me to my feet as the meeting broke up. “I have to introduce you. It’s my job as your buddy.”
I was more than a little nervous as I waited in line with my fellow newbies and their buddies. Finally, it was my turn. What in the fuck was I going to say? Hi, Riley, get home okay last night?
“Riley, this is Dana Mason.” Joan nudged me forward. “She’s our new financial analyst.”
I held out my hand. “Ms. Stephenson.” It felt odd knowing and using her full last name for the first time. “Thank you for making me feel welcome,” I said. Seeing Riley again ignited my cooled libido. Who was I kidding? Dancing for her turned me on more than I wanted to admit.
My insides started twirling and that special spot between my legs came alive, demanding attention. We shook hands politely, like two coworkers would, but the energy that passed between us was anything but businesslike. As a matter of fact, it could probably power a small city. As far as first times went, this was more th
an a little memorable. God, I was totally rattled.
“Welcome again, Dana. We’re glad to have you.”
Riley’s face was guarded, her eyes searching mine. I was scared to death that I’d lose this job, but tried not to show it. I’d worked my ass off going to school. This was my big break. What in the fuck was going to happen now?
Part III: Riley and Dana
Chapter Eleven
The rest of the afternoon crawled by, and it didn’t help that Riley canceled several meetings. She was wound up and couldn’t focus, and the last thing she needed was to get caught daydreaming.
She was always completely focused when she was at the office. Hell, she was always completely in tune with everything she did, including what she did for fun. The exception to that had been at her weekly basketball game last night. She’d been totally off her game and only sank the ball in the net twice instead of her usual ten or twelve times. She dribbled the ball off her foot and had it stolen from her twice. She was so worthless, she almost benched herself. She’d been thinking about seeing Dana later.
Suddenly too jittery to sit still, she needed to get out of her office. A wave of panic rolled through her and it felt like a million ants crawling over her skin.
“I’m going out,” Riley said to Tina, her assistant, on her way past.
“Everything okay? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine,” Riley lied. “Just going to get some fresh air.” She barreled past Tina and her no-nonsense efficiency.
Riley didn’t bother with the elevator. She wouldn’t have been able to stand there and wait for it. She certainly wouldn’t be able to stand still in the small box. She hit the exit door to the stairs.
After the first two flights, she caught her rhythm. After the next eight, her calves started to tingle. By the time she hit the ground floor, six floors later, her legs were shaking. Cautiously, Riley opened the exit door and stepped into the cool lobby of her building. A few steps later, she was on the sidewalk and turning the corner.