Page 12 of Off Limits
I keep facing away from him. ‘Brandy,’ I say, using my stage name.
I hear him chuckle. ‘Oh, it’s like that now, is it? I mean your real name.’
‘My name is Brandy Velvet.’
‘Then turn around, Brandy Velvet, so I can look at you.’
I do as I’m asked.
‘We don’t need no music,’ he says. ‘Come closer.’
I take a tentative step forward. Does he want me to dance in silence?
‘Raise your eyes to me, honey.’
It takes me a moment to look at him. I can still hear the music from outside in the main bar area thumping through the walls, one of the girls up on stage. The man’s face is still in shadow underneath his cap. All I can see is the shape of his chin.
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty-two.’
‘How long you been a dancer?’
This feels strange to me. We never talk to the clients if we’re performing for them. Not when we’re up on stage, either. Only occasionally if we’re serving drinks. ‘Since I was eighteen.’
‘Go on, then. Gimme a little twirl.’
It occurs to me that maybe he’s shy. Or embarrassed. Though he sounds sure of himself. I turn all the way around slowly, and when I’m done, I think I hear him sigh.
‘Kale was right about you, Brandy,’ he says on an exhale.
‘You want me to dance for you?’ I ask with my heart thumping in my chest.
Another moment passes before he replies. ‘How about we skip to the part when you undress for me?’
I stiffen. Okay, so he’s definitely not shy.
‘Nice and slow,’ he instructs. ‘Start with them boots.’
I’m not used to this. There’s no music and ordinarily, my boots remain on for the duration. In my head, I try to figure out how I’m gonna keep things sexy, though a quieter voice asks why I even have to. Stepping forward, closer to him, I lift my leg and place my heel on the top of his thigh, bending my knee. I never need to remind myself that I’m doing this for the sole reason of paying off my father’s debt.
‘Help a girl out?’ I say.
Taking his time, he lowers each zipper one at a time. Straightening, I swallow a lump in my throat and step out my boots. Sliding them out of the way, I reach around to my back and unclasp the corset, allowing it to fall away. As I do so, I hear him inhale through his nose. He adjusts his position on the throne, resting his ankle on his knee, leaning back a little.
I try to control my breathing. I don’t know whether it’s better or worse that I can’t see his whole face.
‘Keep goin’,’ he says.
Raising my hands, I grip the hemline of my panties.
‘Slowly,’ he reminds me.
Hooking my thumbs inside, I peel the material away, my heart in my throat. This is how I felt last time. Standing in front of a stranger, exposed and vulnerable and just wanting to run.
When the material reaches my thighs, I let it drop to my ankles. I step out of my panties and with my toe, glide them toward my boots.
His breathing is deeper. So loud he’s like a bull and I can tell that the sight of me naked has got him excited.
