Beneath a Blood Moon (8 page)

I checked the time, wrinkling my nose. “He better pick good music.”

“Any preferences? I’ll run it up before you go on stage.”

“Slow in the start, up the tempo in the middle, and slow at the end. Just give me something with a steady beat. None of this slow to fast in mid-song crap tonight. It’s going to be bad enough working the pole for twenty.”

“I’ll let the sound guys know. Think you’ll be okay?”

“Don’t worry about me. If it’s too much, I’ll treat the front row to a very elegant and sexy faint.” I snorted, shaking my head. “Jab a feather in my hair, and we’ll call it good enough.”

Once she checked me over one final time and left, I headed down the hall to the club’s runway, watching from the wings while Patricia yanked off her bra and tossed it into the crowd. Scents I hadn’t noticed before teased my nose, and my wolf’s interest piqued as she identified the rich, alluring aroma of male arousal.

“Don’t you even dare,” I hissed under my breath. Disgruntled but obedient, my wolf settled and watched through my eyes while I scoped out the crowd. Usually, it was a mixed bag of men and women hitting the gambling tables while watching us dance.

Tonight, we were the stars, and there were a lot of suits and sequin dresses in the crowd. The boss had brought out the extra stools from the bar, along with the tables meant for two or three. Even the waitresses and waiters wore feathers pinned to their suits.

“You’re good to go,” Danny hissed in my ear, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “Knock ‘em dead, girl.”

I stretched while waiting for Patricia and the new girl to finish strutting their stuff down the runway. I flashed both of them a smile before drawing a deep breath.

I swallowed back my groan as the lights dimmed and the spotlight focused on the pole before sliding in my direction. My wolf’s excitement grew as I readied myself to work my way across the platform. Some of the dancers strutted to the pole as though the speed of their arrival somehow enhanced the experience for the clients. With twenty minutes to work, I took my time.

Before I had taken to stripping, I had enjoyed ballet. Waltzing had also been fun, but as soon as I had left home, determined to make my way without any help, I had given up both styles, choosing to learn flamenco and swing dancing to give my pole work more flare.

For the next twenty minutes, my pole would be my partner. As I sashayed my way down the runway, I scanned the crowd for the man I’d dance for, to add that little extra edge to the sway of my hips as I focused on him and him alone.

I found the dark-haired man with amber eyes, the one I had danced for the last time I had performed at the club. He sat straighter, his gaze fixed on me. While most of the men wore suits, he wore a charcoal button-up, the top opened to reveal a hint of his tanned chest. He had a tie, but it was lying on the table in front of him. Like before, his friend was there, the one who had asked for a photograph of the three of us together when I had been on my way to perform as a showgirl.

This time, there was a woman seated between them, wearing a gown better suited for a party with the social elite than a strip club.

My wolf liked his amber eyes and approved of the way his shirt hugged his chest with the promise of lean muscle beneath. Once again, she lusted for a mate, and he held her enthralled. I spun around the pole, dipping backwards to stare at him.

His eyes widened, and because my wolf wanted him, for the first time since I had started stripping, I danced for the same man twice.

Chapter Five

Most clients came and went in the club, but when his friends left, the dark-haired man with amber eyes remained. When I wasn’t swaying to the music, using my wolf’s lust and the desire in his gaze as a lifeline to keep on my feet, I flopped in the dressing room. I fought to catch my breath while I coached the new girls, offering them advice on how to draw the attention of men and women alike.

By the time I finished my normal shift of five hours, I wanted nothing more than to find a hole, crawl into it, and die. Danny crouched next to me, where I was stretched out on the dressing room bench, poking my shoulder. She handed me a bottle of water. “Still alive?”

“Barely,” I croaked, and determined not to whine too much, I clenched my teeth. Three more dances and I’d be done for the night. I drank several swallows, and fearing I’d throw the rest up, I set the bottle aside. Danny recapped it. “I’d get out of my suit, but I don’t think I have the energy to get back into it.”

“Well, you’re smoking on the dance floor. You’re going to like the tips. The boss sent me down to find out if you’d be interested in going home with one of the VIPs. It seems a gentleman wants to take you home with his wife for some lively entertainment.”

I sighed, slumping at the thought of whoring myself out to some man who was likely suffering from a mid-life crisis. Knowing I’d say no, the boss didn’t usually extend prostitution offers to me. Unfortunately for me, I had missed too many good work days and had a wolf to feed. If the growing discomfort in my belly was any indication, she was extremely hungry.

“Seriously? This is the worst shift,” I wailed.

Danny rubbed my shoulders, and I groaned as she dug in her fingers. Her breath tickled my ear. “The gentleman is paying ten thousand up front and another ten in the morning. He’s paying the boss fifty thousand if he cuts you loose now instead of after the VIP show.”

I stiffened. “You’re fucking with me. Twenty thousand? And if I don’t, the boss loses fifty? What the hell, Danny?! Since when did he start pitching no-win offers like that? It’s fucking blackmail.”

I didn’t need a flashing neon sign to tell me what would happen if I said no. If I lost him fifty thousand, my job was gone. Worse, by morning word would spread to every club in the city that I had screwed him out of a lot of cash and cost him a client at the same time.

My wolf and I wouldn’t last long on a single night’s work, no matter how good the tips were.

“I’m sorry, but you know how this business goes. The boss really wants you to accept. It’s twenty thousand for you, right? He’s tossing in two weeks off work with paid full-time minimum wage as incentive. I tried to tell him you liked scoping out the men you went home with, but no luck. It’s a pretty sweet deal, girl. Don’t be stupid.”

Twenty thousand would solve a lot of problems, and two weeks paid vacation was a luxury I normally didn’t have as a part-time stripper and part-time college student. Not only could I feed my wolf, but I’d have time to figure out what the hell to do now that I was a werewolf.

I had already lost a week’s worth of income.

Hating myself for giving in, I sighed and nodded. “Fine.”

My wolf did not approve. I ignored her.

“You’ll do it?” Danny blurted.

“I’ll do it,” I confirmed, hoping I wasn’t about to make a very big mistake.

“There’s a catch.”

There was always a catch. I should have known. I blamed my fatigue from pole dancing in vinyl for five hours for my stupidity. “What catch?”

“The couple isn’t done playing on the strip tonight, so they want you to accompany them wearing a fancy dress they already bought because the boss gave them your sizes. The dress, as well as its accompanying accessories, arrived by courier during your last act.”

“That mother fucking piece of shit. Are you seriously telling me he already agreed for me?”

I’d been sold out—no, worse; I’d been sold.

Two weeks would give me plenty of time to get out of town. Twenty thousand would feed me and my wolf for a long time. With my acceptance, the boss knew I had a price. He knew I would say yes if pushed. I’d end up like the one-timers, sold to the highest bidder for a night of pleasure—for his profit.

I trembled, breaking out in a cold sweat. My wolf’s presence retreated, but she couldn’t hide her alarm from me. She didn’t want a claimed male, and despite her shortcomings, she understood a wife was a male’s mate.

My wolf didn’t like it, but neither did I. If I didn’t agree, she’d starve, and that frightened me more than a one-night stand with a married man and his wife.

All I had to do was last through one night. Once I made it to morning, I could cope. It wasn’t like I hadn’t prostituted before. I had.

Only then, I had been the one to pick and choose the men, making the safest bets possible.

Danny flinched, bit her lip, and nodded. “Fifty thousand reasons for him to,” she reminded me. “You know how he is; fair until there’s a really good business deal that doesn’t cost
him
anything to accept. Wouldn’t surprise me if the fucker tried to cut out some of your twenty, too, except your client insisted on paying you directly.”

“Small favors,” I grumbled.

“I already grabbed your tips so he can’t take your cash. I don’t have much time, but let me help you get out of that vinyl, showered, and changed. It’s the least I can do.”

The dress came with a blindfold. I took one look at it, started shaking, and backed away. “No way.”

“It’s only until you reach the parking garage. George is going to go down with you, okay? He likes you, and if he thinks something’s up, he’ll call it off, okay?” Danny said, holding it out. It was red and covered with tiny golden sequins. “George is as straight-laced as they get.”

The bouncer was a good guy, so far as they went. He fit the muscle-bound stereotype I didn’t like, but he hadn’t brought any violence to me or any of the other girls. He enjoyed showing off his strength by tossing us over his shoulder to remove us from sour situations the boss didn’t like. We’d all been grabbed at least once by him.

Maybe George was as straight-laced as the bouncers at the club got, but he wasn’t above copping a feel on the job. I ground my teeth. “Do I at least get to see the dress first?”

“Sorry, babe. No peeking.”

“What the fuck kind of stunt is this?” I demanded.

“The kind that pays you a small fortune and nabs you a paid vacation. Just take the damned mask and smile, Jasmine.”

While my wolf had saved my life, she offered no help with my current predicament. “Fine.” I grabbed the blindfold out of Danny’s hand, and seething with rage, I tied it into place. “There. I’m fucking blindfolded.”

“Good thing it’s not a strapless, or we’d have to hunt you down a different bra. Typical men, buying things suiting their tastes that don’t match the dress. At least the lingerie is gorgeous. You’ll like it,” Danny muttered, helping me dress. “Arms up, girl. You might have to wiggle a bit to get into this one.”

After having squirmed my way out of my sweat-drenched vinyl, the thought of wearing something tight sickened me. Sighing, I obeyed, lifting my arms over my head. Danny was right about the wiggling. I couldn’t tell if the dress was made of satin or silk or some other sleek fabric, but it clung to me and required a lot of tugging, squirming, shifting, and cursing to make the damned thing fit.

By the time I was in it and laced up, I had my doubts I’d make it out of the club without falling asleep on my feet.

“Shoes,” Danny said, tapping my ankle. “They’re heels, shorter than you usually wear, so try not to break a leg.”

“Thanks, Mom. I’ll try not to snap my ankle.” I clenched my teeth. “Anything else?”

“Make him use a condom and have fun. There’s a necklace and earrings, too. Apparently your gentleman wants to be seen with a lady and not a hussy.”

I hoped crying was acceptable behavior for a stripper turned sex slave pretending to be a lady, because I was on the verge of tears. Anger, humiliation, and embarrassment conspired to shatter what remained of my dignity. I’d been stupid to say yes.

If I had said no, I had no idea what would have happened to me, especially not with fifty thousand reasons for the boss to make certain I did exactly what my buyer wanted.

“I can’t believe you’re okay with this,” I whispered.

“Oh, Jasmine. I’m not, but what else are we supposed to do? Hell, we all need the money in this town. How many gigs are you pulling just to pay your rent without prostituting? Three? Four? You’re stuck in the same dead end as the rest of us. We just don’t mind the life quite as much as you do. Here, I got the perfect cure for you. It’s the hard stuff, and if that doesn’t settle your nerves, nothing will.”