Stripped (3 page)

What the fuck, Sutherland?
That was not a comment a man made to a woman. He should’ve kept his mouth shut.

Thankfully, she let out a small laugh. “That bad?”

Huh. She’d taken no offense to his comment. Even laughed a little. As much as he tried not to, he liked this woman. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe because she didn’t put up with any bullshit, but wasn’t so uptight that he had to constantly flatter or risk an all-out temper tantrum. The change was refreshing and a little too enticing.

Best to stick with what he knew. He purposely went out with spoiled women. The more spoiled the better as far as he was concerned. They were easy. Spend a shit-load of money on them, give half-hearted compliments, and they ate out of his hands. Miss Walker wouldn’t be the same. He’d have to work a hell of a lot harder to please her.

“Do you need to take the rest of the day off?”

Her gaze shot to his as she handed him the mug. “No. I’m fine.”

“It must’ve been one hell of a party.”

A strained smile came to her lips. “Yeah. It was.”

As she left the office, he wondered what she did in her spare time. She had to be in her mid-twenties. Too young for a lot of responsibility. But a perfect age for sowing oats, which would explain the exhaustion toward the end of the week.

Hell, at thirty-one, he still partied hard. He was nowhere near ready to settle down. Why should he be?

He had an endless supply of money, a gorgeous woman on his arm at all times, and A-list events to fill up his calendar. For someone like Jaxon, it was the perfect life. He couldn’t imagine anything better.

CHAPTER THREE

“Girl, you need to pep it up or you’re going to make shit for money tonight,” Star said as she stared bug-eyed into the wall-length mirror and flicked layers of mascara onto her false eyelashes.

Tugging her yellow fishnets out of her bag, Madison inwardly sighed. There went any hope she was doing a somewhat decent job of hiding her exhaustion. If the always tired redhead was calling her out on being a downer, then Madison wasn’t fooling anyone.

“That obvious, huh?”

She propped her foot up on a wood bench and slowly pulled the yellow fishnet stocking up to mid-thigh. This was her second costume change since she came in a little over an hour ago and she had a few more to go. Adam, her boss, liked to keep the outfits fresh.

Simply switching outfits was exhausting. Her limbs felt like lead weights, and just sliding the flimsy netting up her leg was a chore. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep and the skin underneath was heavy and full. It’d taken a shit-ton of concealer to hide the dark circles.

Star gave an unladylike snort. “You make a sloth look energetic.”

“Damn.” She let out a shocked laugh and shook her head. “My boss compared me to a zombie earlier today. Your description is way worse.”

“I call it how I see it.” The other woman pushed the mascara wand back into the container, twisted it closed then turned and pointed it at Madison. “You’re not you tonight. What gives?”

“I haven’t had much sleep. I’m trying to save my energy for my stage performance later.”

Which was in about an hour.

Pursing her ruby-colored lips, Star popped a hand on her hip and rolled her eyes. “Whatev’. You could totally fuck that up and still nail it. You’re a walking wet dream in black leather when you do your pole routine. The men eat it up. You should be using your energy in other areas.”

Madison dug around in her bag until she found her make-up and then she joined Star at the mirror. She grimaced at her reflection. Two words came to mind: hot mess. More concealer. Definitely. “That’s easier said than done. I’m not feeling especially friendly tonight.”

Trying to be flirty and energetic when her head was in a complete fog had proven impossible. She’d still make some money that would help make up for missing last night’s shift, but if things continued it wouldn’t be anywhere near what she usually brought in and she was still going to be way in the hole for the month.

“I can tell. So can the customers.” A soft, compassionate expression came to the other woman’s face as she tapped Madison’s shoulder with a make-up brush. “I don’t know how you do it, girl. I struggle with going to school full time and dancing. I can’t imagine having kids on top of that.”

“You do what you gotta do, right?”

“Ain’t that the damn truth?”

They shared a commiserating smile in the mirror. Star was a couple years younger than Madison, and only a little over a month away from graduating college with a Bachelor’s in Criminal Justice. After that, she would work toward a Master’s, while actually working somewhere in her field. Eventually she wanted to be the next Dexter—minus the serial killing part.

Star had her shit together. She was young, smart and planned for her future. Completely opposite of how Madison had gone about life. And the difference showed. It was moments like this she wondered how different her life would’ve turned out if she’d not gone out on that first date with her ex so many years ago.

She probably would’ve gone on to college, gotten some kind of degree. Be worrying about paying back college loans instead of keeping food on the table and a roof over her and her kids’ heads. But she wouldn’t have her kids. And everything she’d been through, would go through, was worth it as long as she had those two smiling faces.

The locker room door opened and a balding, gray head popped in, breaking into Madison’s thoughts.

“Star, I need you on the floor please.” Adam glanced at Madison. A crease formed between his eyes as he pushed the door further open and stepped inside. When Star went to leave, he held up his finger. “Hold on a second.”

He studied Madison, gaze roaming over her face and body. She didn’t shy away from Adam’s intense inspection, knowing he was taking in every detail of her appearance. It wasn’t the first time she’d been under his watchful eye, nor would it be the last.

Finally, he pressed his lips together tightly. A clear sign of displeasure.

God, she hoped he didn’t send her home.

“When’s the last time you slept?” he asked her.

There was no reason to lie to him. “An hour last night.”

“You got to work tomorrow?”

“Yes.”

He shook his head and made a disgusted sound.

Before he could say a thing, she stepped forward, arm outstretched. “I need this shift, Adam. Please, don’t send me home.”

Waiting for his answer was pure torture. If he decided she had to go home, she wouldn’t be able to argue her way out of it. When Adam McDaniel made his mind up, getting him to change it took an act of God. The sad thing was he’d have
her
best interest in mind. Too bad doing what was best for her meant taking money out of her pocket.

He ran his hands up and down the black suspenders he always wore. Finally, he pulled them out and released them. They snapped against his chest. He always did that when he was thinking and had come to a decision. “Would you rather work the side stage or the floor?”

She fought back a smile. The side stage took up a lot of energy she desperately needed right now to get through her solo performance later. But working the floor meant a lot of smiling and flirting to nail down a lap dance or two.

Her solo was her biggest money maker. “The floor.”

“You got it,” he looked back at Star. “Get on the pole, girl.”

Star nodded and hurried out. As Adam backed out of the door, Madison called, “Hey, Adam?”

“Yeah?” he asked, stepping back into the room.

She hated bringing this up now, especially since he’d done her a huge favor, but she had to. “I don’t have a babysitter for this weekend or the upcoming week.”

He rubbed his hand over his balding head. “Well, that sucks to hear. Mostly for you though. I know how much you need your hours here.” He blew out a long breath. “It’s okay. Tiffany has been asking for a couple of extra shifts since she’s going on that cruise in a few weeks. I haven’t had any to give her. This will make her happy.”

Adam was always trying to be as fair as he could between all the dancers. Each one of them had a story, had a home life, and he had never been guilty of playing favorites among his employees.

Silence descended between them, which was odd, since Adam always spoke his mind. But his hesitation in leaving made her think the older man had something else he had to say.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“You know you can’t keep going like this, Maddy.” The fact he used her real name in here didn’t go unnoticed. Adam broke out the real names when he was being his most sincere. “All you do is work. You need to take some time for yourself. Date. Find someone. Share a life.”

She pursed her lips to keep her amusement from surfacing.
Find someone.
Two years ago the old bachelor would’ve rather had his tongue ripped out than utter such a sentiment. Then Elise came along. Ten years his junior, feisty as hell and didn’t put up with his bullshit. It was love at first sight for Adam. Not so much for Elise.

“I’m doing okay on my own, you know? I don’t need a man to take care of me.”

“Now, nobody said anything about finding someone to take care of you. I said share a life.” He started backing out of the dressing room. “I’ll take being broke with Elise by my side over being wealthy and alone any day of the week.”

He disappeared out the door, leaving his words hanging in the air.

She’d tried the whole sharing a life with someone deal. He couldn’t hack it.

Madison turned to the mirror. She took in the go-go dancer costume—a hot pink bra top trimmed in bright blue with a matching tutu.

Besides, this was her life right now. Dancing, working for Sutherland and taking care of her kids the best way she could. Meeting someone, falling in love, was not in the cards. She didn’t go anywhere to meet men, didn’t have the time, and the club was not a place she planned to meet anyone.

She picked up the flat iron, ran it through her blonde hair, then fluffed it around her face.

Here, she was Lorelei.

A fantasy. Not a beat-down, broke-as-hell, stressed-out mother of two.

Smiling at herself in the mirror, she grimaced at the strained edge to it. Exhausted or not, she needed to make money. And there was nothing sexy about her reality.

Come on, girl. You know what they want to see.

She willed herself to exude seduction, temptation. Her lips pursed out, full and plump, lifting at one corner. Her eyes sparked with enough mischief to allure. She took her bottom lip between her teeth and just like that Lorelei took over.

She strode to the door, shoulders back, breasts forward.

Fantasy was always better than reality…and it sure as hell paid her bills.

***

Jaxon kept his gaze averted from the gyrating women on stage and grimaced at the pounding dance music ricocheting throughout his skull.

Being in a strip joint was not how he’d planned to spend his night.

He should be having a relaxing dinner with Victoria, followed by a little more relaxing in his hot tub back at his condo. But no, he’d been forced to cancel, because Adam McDaniel was being a serious pain in his ass.

He’d already stopped by twice today. Both times, the old man hadn’t been here. Jaxon was told that if he wanted to catch the owner of
Pussycats
, he’d have to come back later tonight during business hours.

Business or not, the last thing Jaxon wanted was to be caught in a place like this by some money-hungry paparazzi who’d splash his picture all over the fucking tabloids. The choice had been taken out of his hands though and only irritated him further.

Without Adam’s cooperation, he was at a complete standstill with his latest project. So far, it hadn’t seemed to matter that he was here while this place was running. The old goat was still avoiding him. He’d been standing at this bar, twiddling his goddamn thumbs for almost twenty minutes while one of the dancers went and “fetched” him.

As the music died down and the women left the stage, Jaxon took the opportunity to glance around.
Pussycats
had been around for decades. He had to give McDaniel credit. He’d done his best to class the place up with oversized leather chairs and couches, so it had more of a lounge feel instead of a seedy club.

The customer base left something to be desired though. In his research, he’d learned that McDaniel wanted to give an upscale experience to the blue-collared worker.

Jaxon tugged on his expensive silk tie. Amongst the blue jeans and work boots, he was overdressed in his tailor-made dark suit and stuck out like a sore thumb.

Suddenly the entire club went dark. All the chatter died down as the DJ announced, “Gentlemen, she’s here and ready to make you beg. Lorelei!”

The lights came back on and cast the entire club in blue. A fog machine sent a billow of synthetic smoke across the stage as “Na-Na-Na, come on,” of Rhianna’s S&M blasted through the space. Men whooped and edged closer to the lip of the stage. Through the fog, a goddess with straight blonde hair cascading over her shoulders emerged. Her strides were long, confident, and so fucking sensual he couldn’t look away.

Leather thigh-high boots encased her legs. A tiny wisp of black leather covered the mound between her thighs. A matching corset left her midsection bare and the tops of her breasts pushed forward. When she stopped at the end of the stage, she put one hand on a hip then snapped a whip above her head. A loud cracking noise broke through the music.

Without taking her intense gaze off her audience, she reached behind her and latched a hand around a pole. In one fluid motion, she dropped to a split on the floor. Leaving the whip on the ground, she spun onto her knees and arched her upper body in a move that saturated the air with the promise of sex. After she rose to her feet, she took the pole in both her hands and shimmied all the way to the top.

Within seconds, she was hanging upside down by nothing but her legs. As she grasped the pole again, she released her legs into a wide split before wrapping them around the rod again. She did a series of aerobatic moves that left him awed before righting herself and slowly sliding down the pole in a circle.

The moment her knees touched the stage, she started crawling forward. Jaxon was captivated by the animalistic lust on her face. The expression screamed I know you want to fuck me.

He’d never been one to frequent gentlemen’s clubs. Not that he hadn’t been to a few, but he found the experience mostly distasteful. This woman wasn’t simply gyrating her ass on the floor, she was performing. She was creating an illusion of sex he’d never seen before.