Private Dancer

Megan is reeling from the nasty breakup with her boyfriend, over her job as a stripper, but can't afford to miss a day at work. Fortunately, one of her favorite regulars, Justin is there. He's the closest to a friend that she has at the club. But performing a private dance for him now affects her in a way that it never has before, and now she's tempted to cross the line into something more personal. And intimate...

Excerpt:
My head was throbbing in time with the music blaring from the other room. I pressed my hands to my temples, silently willing the pain medication that I’d taken moments earlier to begin working.

I couldn’t stay back here, in the dressing room, for much longer. I had to begin my shift.

After what had happened tonight, my job was more necessary to me than ever.

Ironic, really, considering…

I pushed the thoughts aside, trying to will it away along with the misery that was pounding inside my head. Adjusting the skimpy halter top I wore, making sure that the tiny pair of shorts rode down lower on my hips, I headed out to the main floor.

Welcoming the relative darkness of the areas away from the stage. The lack of light would hide the falseness of my smiles.

Then I saw him.

And nearly fainted with relief.

Justin was a regular at the club and definitely one of my best customers. I wouldn’t even have to perform tonight, if I didn’t want to, and would still be able to make a nice amount of cash. He was an outrageous tipper, paying me even if all I did was sit next to him while he drank.

I didn’t know much about him, other than his first name. It was pretty much understood that I wouldn’t ask.

Though many of the dancers liked to lead the men on, make them think that there might be a chance of more private performances outside of the club, I knew most of them would not cross that line. Our boss was a former dancer herself and a real shrew, if the truth were known. I don’t know if part of the problem was that being around a bunch of younger women made her more aware of the passage of time—which hadn’t been kind to her in the least—or if she’d always been a bit of a bitch.

Either way, she had a strict policy against any of the girls seeing the club’s customers outside of work. I knew she had fired more than one dancer on trumped up reasons, when everyone knew the truth of how the girl had offended her.

It was the sort of risk that some of the girls were willing to take, however.

Especially with a very good customer, one who might be able to make up for a sudden loss of income with his generosity.

I didn’t have that kind of reassurance with any of my regulars. Even with Justin.

And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give any man that kind of power over me. I didn’t like asking anyone for help in anything.

After all, that was why I was working here as I tried to finish up my degree on my own. My parents were obsessed with taking care of my younger brother, who had just started university himself, and at one of those high-powered schools that a parent could brag about, but at the same time, practically had to take out a second mortgage in order to pay the tuition.

Which had led to them cutting me off. Completely. And with little warning.

If I couldn’t depend on my own flesh and blood to help me as they had once promised, how could I trust anyone else?

Short answer: I couldn’t.