Page 39 of Fury
The stage lights blinded her, but she kept her gaze on the lit walkway, and strutted on stage.
The first dancer was wrapped around a pole. Rather than pass her by, she danced over, ran her fingers over the woman’s shoulder, offered a demure smile into the crowd, then continued on to the second stage.
Might have been her attitude, which screamed, “I don’t give a fuck.” Could have been her confidence. Maybe it was her wild, blonde hair or her toned physique. From the second she walked onto that main stage, she took command of that room.
Bring it on.
In her other life, she’d learned to look the men in their eyes. After several shimmies and sensual gyrations, she strutted overto the silver pole, wrapped her fingers around the cold, metal. and swung herself around.
Hello, old friend.
She was much stronger than she’d been all those years ago, so in seconds she was hanging from the pole and bending like a gymnast. The music changed, this song had a slower beat, so she adjusted her dance. Then, as she moved away from the pole, she pulled the bikini top away, exposing one of her nipples.
And the audience started hooting and hollering like they’d struck gold.
Truth was, she loved having this kind of control over them. Loved that she could hypnotize them with her movements, with her body. Being free with hers gave herallthe power. She wasn’t hung up on anything like she’d been before she lost it all. Back then, she’d been a regular teen who loved hanging with her soccer team, loved spending time with her mom and dad. She liked boys, but she was pretty shy and kinda awkward around them.
Fast forward through so much pain and suffering to now. She didn’t need this job. She didn’t need the money from it either. She had a home, she had friends. She had Elsa. She had her health and she had a career she loved.
She also loved how the audience lusted after her. How they wanted to fuck her, wanted a piece of her. She loved that she didn’t care about any of them. She didn’t need them to survive. This time around… she hadallthe power.
As she swept her gaze around the room, a shock of adrenaline charged through her.
What the hell is he doing here?
She had a stalker.
Leaning against the wall stood a beast of a man with a killer face and dope body. Someone she loathed with every fiber of her being.
Carrera Santini.
The only man she ever truly loved. The one man who shredded her heart and reminded her of her fragility.
If she could go over and slap his face she would do it. But she was there to get the gig, so she would shut him out. She’d work the stage, make love to the pole, and use the damn audience for her professional gain. This had nothing to do withhim. Nothing at all.
Back then, she’d closed her heart. Now, she didn’t have one. That’s what gave her the ultimate edge.
Several men walked to the stage, bills in their hands. Slash blinked back to the moment, sashayed over and waited while they tucked bills into her thong.
One of the guys let his fingers linger on her skin an extra beat before he stepped away. She hoped that made Carrera green with envy, though she doubted he gave a fuck about her. If she had to guess, she’d say that Elsa asked him to keep an eye on her.
Watch all you want, asshole. You had your chance and you let me get away.
Moving her hips to the sensual beat, she untied the string straps around her neck, and let the thin layer of fabric fall away. Now, her breasts were on full display. She ran her fingers over her nipples, squeezed her breasts together with her arms, and put the full focus on her girls.
All while eye fucking as many of the patrons as she could.
And that’s when a long tip line formed.
Her sesh ended when the next dancer appeared.
She tied her bikini straps around her neck and, with an extra sway in her hips, made her way toward the back. Once behind the curtain, she removed her shoes, dropped the facade, and walked with purpose back to her station. Jilly and Deb started clapping.
“How’d I do ladies?” She tugged out the bills from her thong.
“Fantastic,” Jilly said. “Where’d you learn to dance like that?”
“I used to dance.” Slash counted the money, offered half to Deb and the other to Jilly.
