Revolving Door Read online

  “With a guy?” I clarify.

  “Oh. Um, no.”

  She’s not carrying any bags, so she wasn’t shopping. Now I’m more than a little curious. What exactly was she up to? I wait for her to elaborate.

  After clearing her throat, she smiles brightly at me. “Night,” she says before hurrying past.

  With a frown, I turn and watch her walk away, my eyes drifting to her ass. I have a thing for a pert ass, and she’s pure perfection. All I want to do is bend her over something, lift that dress, and fuck her senseless. Then there’s those long legs…

  She’s gone now, and I rein in my thoughts with a scowl. Ashton Delegrave is a complete mystery, and I’m finding that I want to learn all her secrets. With a shake of my head, I leave the living room and head up to the second floor. When I pass by her room, the door is already closed.

  I need to get laid.

  Ashton’s on my mind more often than not, and it’s unsettling.

  Eight

  Ashton

  It’s late afternoon the following day, and I dump all my purchases on the bed in my room. I’d felt guilty about spending the rest of my cash, but I’m certain I’ll be bringing home money tonight to replace what I’d spent.

  I’d bought a cell phone, because I don’t want to continuously ask Harper if I can borrow her laptop. This way, it’ll be easier to search for songs for my sets. It’d made more sense to buy a phone versus an iPod. The salesman at the store had been kind enough to help me set up the phone, so that’s been taken care of.

  I open the shopping bags, critically eyeing the clothes that I’d bought. Mr. Vanderson had been very helpful with all my questions and had referred me to a few stores that the other women from the club frequent.

  Very carefully, I set out the three outfits. They’re all I’d been able to afford. I’m nervous about tonight, but I’m confident I can handle it. The ‘no touch’ policy is a comfort, and when I dance on stage tonight, the railing around it will keep anyone from getting too close. In the main room, I’ll be able to mingle, and if certain types of clientele make me feel uncomfortable, I have every right to avoid them. I was informed that plenty of the other women will show them a good time. I’d also been warned that if I become too selective, I’ll be asked to move on to a different club. I’ll have to be careful with how often I decline a client. It’s also a great relief that I don’t have to be topless during the lap dances, it just gives the clientele an incentive to want to pay for more.

  The fact that I’m my own boss is what really appeals to me. I show up for the shifts I want, and I’m in charge of my music, my sets, what I wear, and whom I approach. And if us dancers show up before the club opens, we don’t have to pay a fee. Once the club opens, the fees go up every hour.

  I sit down on the bed and begin snapping the tags off the outfits. I have a lot to do in preparation for this evening.

  ***

  The club has yet to open, and my stomach is in knots. I’d arrived early so that I wouldn’t have to pay the nightly fee, and I’d already given the DJ my song choices so that I can be added to the schedule. Several women have arrived early, and we’re all in a large room located down the hall from the back of the stage. There are tables against the wall with large mirrors. Located on the opposite side of the room are rows of lockers, and beside them is a door that leads to a private bathroom. There’s also a vending machine, but I doubt it’s used much. I’d purposely skipped dinner tonight so that my stomach would look nice and flat.

  When one of the mirrors becomes available, I walk over to the table and set down the small bag I’d brought with me. I dig out my makeup and sit in the chair.

  A gorgeous woman with black hair and skin the color of chocolate walks over, clad in only a satin robe. She stops beside my table and flashes me a stunning smile. “You must be new. I’m Keisha,” she introduces.

  “Ash,” I automatically reply, giving her my real name. I’m not sure what the protocol is when we’re not out front or on stage.

  “If you need pole lessons, hit me up. It’s forty per hour,” she informs. She’s not looking to make friends, she’s looking to make money.

  “Thank you,” I say politely, and she moves on.

  I focus on applying my makeup, darkening my eyes and my lips. I’m going to leave my hair down tonight and see if it becomes bothersome. When I’m finished getting ready, I leave the table to make room for anyone else that’s waiting for a mirror. No one’s come over to talk to me, and I’m just fine with that. Like Keisha, I’m not here to make friends.

  Most of the women have now dressed and left to head down the hall and into the club. I glance at the clock on the wall. The club has just opened for the night.

  I walk to an empty locker and begin slipping my clothes off. I’d worn my stage outfit beneath my clothing so that I wouldn’t stress over trying to ready myself.

  I’d chosen a black and silver halter top that shows my breasts to perfection with plenty of cleavage. I’m not a fan of G-strings, so I’d bought the matching silver and black cheeky shorts. They show off my butt and are really nothing more than a scrap of fabric that hides my goods, yet it’s still sexy. At least I hope the men think so. If I put it all out there, men may not want to see me take it off in private.

  I mentally shake my head, still in disbelief that these are the kinds of thoughts that are running through my mind.

  “Hi, I’m Layla. Welcome to the club.”

  I’ve just finished securing my locker, and I look up. It’s the friendly blonde I’d noticed earlier. She’d been chatting with a few of the other women, and they’d all looked relaxed and ready for the night to begin. She’s a tall, svelte blonde with long hair and blue eyes. She’s a little older than myself and looks absolutely stunning in a red bra and garter set.

  “Thanks. I’m Ash,” I say, relieved to be distracted. In few minutes, I will be doing my first lap dance, and my stomach is churning with nerves.

  “I overhead Keisha earlier. If you’re looking for lessons, I charge twenty an hour. I have a pole in my basement. No pressure, though,” she says with a kind smile.

  “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  She nods. “The first night is always nerve-wracking for anyone new to the business. If you have any questions, feel free to ask. Also, keep your money close at all times. If you have too much to keep on you, put it in your locker where it’s secure.”

  I nod in appreciation.

  “Ready to go out there?” she asks.

  I find myself hesitating.

  “Relax,” Layla encourages. “Just walk around and make eye contact. You’ll know when a guy is interested, and from there, it’s super easy. They’re here looking for entertainment, so no one’s going to turn you down unless they’re out of money. And just remember, make them pay first before you give them a dance,” she advises.

  “Thank you, Layla,” I say with genuine appreciation.

  “No problem, hon. I was new once, and I remember how overwhelming it can be.”

  We leave the room and make our way into the club. Loud music greets us, and the room is filling up fast. Layla saunters off almost immediately, and I watch as she walks across the room like she owns it. There’s a booth full of guys that she’s heading towards.

  I draw in a deep breath and put aside all the chaotic emotions that are jumbled inside me. This is about supporting myself financially. As I walk further into the room, I morph into ‘Jules,’ the name I’d picked for myself. I can handle this if I pretend I’m someone other than awkward Ashton Delegrave.

  There are eyes tracking my movement, and I’m about to approach a single man at a table when a guy in a booth signals that he’s interested.

  I walk over, putting a little extra sway into my hips. He’s a few years older than myself, and he has a pretty brunette with him. She looks nervous, and her eyes are a little too round as she stares at me.

  My red lips curve into a smile. “Evening, my name is Jules,” I s
ay, being careful to include the young woman.

  The guy grins and holds out a twenty. “Show my girl a good time.”

  I’m momentarily caught off guard, but luckily, I catch myself before I show it. My eyes slide to the brunette. Her face is red, but I also see a hint of curiosity in her brown eyes.

  My first lap dance will be with a woman. I’m more than okay with that, and my confidence builds. I move to stand before her, and she just stares up at me, her eyes excited.

  All right, here we go.

  I gracefully straddle her, and I hold her gaze and begin to move my body. Her lips part, and her eyes flicker down to my breasts. I bring them closer to her face and arch my back. “Your man here is very lucky,” I murmur, just for her ears only.

  Her eyes widen, and she flushes even more.

  This is actually kind of fun.

  I hear the guy groan from beside us. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

  While he avidly watches, I continue to seductively grind on the woman’s lap. When the song overhead is finished, I provocatively slide off her lap, making certain that her man gets an eyeful of my backside.

  Before I can fully straighten, he’s handing me another twenty, his eyes gleaming. “My turn.”

  The rest of the night passes in a blur. I do plenty of lap dances, and with each one I give, the more confident and relaxed I become. As strange as it sounds, I feel like I’m in my element. If I weren’t comfortable with my body, this would never work.

  After years of feeling like I was never good enough for those who were supposed to love me, I find that the attention I receive makes me feel good. Yes, I know it’s not me they want, it’s only my body. But still…I like knowing that I can make them want me.

  A lot of the clientele tonight are older men and businessmen. They’re the ones that tip decent, and ironically, some just want to talk to a pretty woman, and they still give a small tip for my time. Sure, there are a few obnoxious men here and there, but they aren’t bothersome enough to avoid. I stay professional and get the job done.

  The real test comes when my set is about to begin. This is when I’ll have to strip completely. There’s an enormous difference between lap dancing with pieces of fabric covering my female bits and dancing nude.

  When my first set begins, I feel the uncontrollable urge to run and hide from the many pairs of eyes focused on me. Instead of giving into my fear, I force myself to shake off my uncertainty and do what I’m best at.

  I dance.

  It’s something I enjoy, and instead of just waltzing around and gyrating, I dance my own way—making certain that my movements are seductive. I want to give them an entertaining show instead of the expected moves. Yes, I still saunter to the railing, showing off my backside and thrusting my pelvis. It’s my job, after all. But I also toy with the men, giving them what they want after deliberately making them wait for it. They want me to get down and dirty, and I want that anticipation to build.

  The second song is when us dancers are expected to strip down to nothing, and I taunt the men, drawing it out as long as I dare. Even with the lights shining on me, I can see that I have their avid attention. My stomach tightens when I remove my bra, and I hear wolf whistles above the music.

  It’s just a job, just a job, just a job.

  I smile coyly and dance around, making certain that they have a chance to admire my breasts before I playfully give them an unobstructed view of my rear. After I’ve removed my bottoms, I continue moving to the music, letting the club get their eyeful.

  Inside, I am cringing a little, but this is life. Sometimes a person must veer off their chosen path to find their way. That’s what I’m doing. There’s a reason for this detour, and I’ll get back on track eventually.

  When I’m finished with my set, and backstage, I grab the simple robe I’d left on the wall hook and slip it on. My heart is thundering in my chest, and even though I’d felt uncomfortable on stage, I’m exhilarated that I’d even gone through with it.

  The bouncer that monitors the front of the stage approaches me. Money can be tossed over the railing by men that want to tip their favorite dancer. He gives me a kind smile and holds out a wad of cash that I’d earned, along with my discarded costume. “Here you go.”

  “Thank you.”

  He nods and walks back to the main room to continue his job.

  I stop by my locker to deposit the cash into my bag, and then I slip my costume back on. The rest of the night is filled with more lap dances, another set, and a few private dances. Thankfully, the men that’d paid for my time in private respect the club’s rules and don’t try anything. It helps that a bouncer is stationed just inside the room.

  By the time I let myself into the house later that night—more like early the next morning—my feet are killing me. It was worth it, though. For my first night, I’d made almost five hundred dollars. Making rent is no longer going to be a concern.

  As silently as I can, I make my way up the stairs and down the hall. I can hear soft, feminine moans coming from behind Channing’s closed bedroom door, and my stomach tenses. Jealousy is something that I am unaccustomed to, and I don’t like it.

  Nine

  Ashton

  I step into the salon where Quinn works and give the friendly receptionist my name. It’ll be a thirty-minute wait before Quinn can trim my hair, so I take a seat in the busy waiting area and pick up a magazine. If I look busy, no one will try to make idle chit-chat. Ironically, at the club, I have no problem talking with the men. Of course, it’s not like the conversations are all that deep or important, so they’re easy to handle. Plus, I’m trying to be ‘Jules’ at the time.

  At least my finances are looking up, and I’m splurging a little this afternoon. I haven’t seen Quinn much these past few days, and I’d decided to drop in at the salon.

  When she comes around the corner, stepping into the waiting area where the counter and register are located, her brown eyes light up when she sees me. A young woman is with her, and I watch as the woman pays Quinn for her haircut.

  After the women walks away, Quinn moves to the computer and scans the screen. A smile promptly appears as her gaze lifts to mine. “You’re next.”

  I set aside the magazine and rise to my feet. As she leads me to the main room, I can’t help but admire all the large potted plants strategically placed amongst the booths, giving the appearance of privacy. I even spy vines along the ceiling that have strayed from their hanging planters. The walls are a soothing brown color, and tranquil music can be heard overhead. Each booth also has a scenic landscape painting above their mirror.

  Quinn escorts me to her booth, and I sit down in the chair. She pulls out a burgundy cape and slips it around my shoulders, moving my hair out of the way. Her brows pull together as she runs a hand through the long strands. “Please tell me I’m not cutting this.”

  “I need a trim, and maybe a few extra layers,” I tell her.

  She nods in agreement and picks up a spray bottle and comb. Her eyes lift to mine in the mirror. “This is a pleasant surprise. You must’ve found a job since I haven’t seen you much lately.”

  “I did.” I’d already decided that I’m not going to tell her what I’m really doing. I know she’d claimed that she would be supportive no matter what I chose to do, but I just don’t want to take that chance.

  She focuses her attention on my hair as she starts misting it. “What are you doing?”

  “Bartending,” I reply.

  “Ah, that explains why I’m not seeing you in the mornings or at night.” She sets aside the bottle and begins running the comb through my hair.

  It’s been a week since I’d started dancing at the club, and I seem to be settling into this new life of mine. The dancing doesn’t really bother me. It’s honestly kind of a high. I like that people find me attractive—yet I am in complete control. No one looks at me like I’m stupid. They don’t pity me, roll their eyes, or use that condescending tone that I hate. Instead, I see appreciati
on in their eyes, lust, and wistfulness. When I auditioned for the job, I’d wondered if I’d feel ashamed, but I don’t.

  I’m learning that a lot of the dancers at the club are not the stereotypes that people seem to think they are. They aren’t drug addicts, desperate, or stupid. Half the women there are putting themselves through college. A few are married, and others are simply in it because the money is too good. That’s what happened with Layla. She’s a single mother, and she continues stripping because the pay keeps her and her son financially secure. I’m not good with trying to branch out with other people, but Layla’s easy to be around. In fact, I plan on taking lessons from her.

  Quinn begins dividing my hair into sections. “Has Gabe been giving you any problems?”

  “I haven’t seen much of him.”

  Quinn nods, securing my hair with clips. “He works second shift a lot, but they’re twelve hour shifts. So he works four days on, three days off. I’m glad he’s not giving you any more issues. Sorry, my family can be incredibly nosy.”

  “I understand that they just want to protect you.”

  She reaches for her scissors and begins concentrating on trimming the back of my hair. “They go overboard sometimes. It’s well-intentioned, but annoying as hell,” she murmurs.

  “At least they care about you,” I say before I can stop myself.

  Quinn’s eyes lift to mine, and she holds my gaze for a minute and then concentrates on my hair once more. “They do. We’re all pretty tight. Blood doesn’t make a family, it’s those that are there for you in times of need that make them your real family,” she says lightly.

  I’m quiet as she works on my hair. She’s lucky to be surrounded by so many people that care about her. She’d grown up without her biological family, but she’s still managed to gain a family through friendship. I wonder if someday I’ll have that. I sure hope so.

  “How are you liking Riverside?” Quinn asks.

  “I like it.”

  Riverside is a big city, and so far, I find it beautiful, but I do hate the congested traffic. I’m fine if there aren’t a lot of cars around me, but I don’t like being closed in from all angles. Other than that, I have no other complaints. The downtown area has a lot of small shops, and I’d enjoyed browsing through a few of them when I’d gone shopping last week. I’ve also heard that there are plenty of parks in the area for hiking and all sorts of outdoor activities. Not that I’m the type to go hiking or bike riding, but the options are there if I should ever want to.