Undercover in Six Inch Stilettos (18 page)

“From Liberty? Hell yeah,” he replied, brushing crumbs from his shirt and patting a knee.

“Twenty dollars first.” Having zero experience in the lap dance department, Cyndi improvised from what she had seen the other girls do.

Jason was the only man she had ever had any sexual encounters with, so she had no idea what turned other guys on, but all men liked breasts, so that seemed like a good place to start.

“You can put the money right here.” She bent over, exposing her cleavage so the man could stick the twenty in the space. Harold tucked the bill in just a little further than he needed to, and he shot her a toothy grin that grossed her out. Cyndi smiled back anyway with a little lick of her lips. Harold moaned in response. If the tent that was pitched in his khakis was any indication, Cyndi was doing all right so far.

Parting his knees with her hands, she turned away from him and shimmied down Harold’s body just enough to rub her booty up against him. As she ran her hands up and down his thighs, she stuck her ass a little higher up in the air for him to tip her. He knew exactly what she wanted. Sliding another paper bill into the crease of her costume, he copped a little extra feel of her cheek. Cyndi tried to ignore it and continued on her mission. As she turned around to face her client again, she kicked up each leg so she could straddle the man. Leaning her head back slightly, she ran one hand seductively across her body as she strategically teased Harold with the gyration of her hips, careful not to make any sex on sex contact.

Out of nowhere, Jason appeared by the bar. As she made eye contact with him, his crimson flushed cheeks and hard-set mouth said it all. Her husband was absolutely furious. She would just have to explain later and hope he understood.

“Ask him where he was Friday night,” the voice in her ear whispered.

“I remember seeing you here last week. You and Lola got a little friendly.” She shimmied a little more before raising her hands over her head and leaning back, exposing her cleavage.

“Mmmhmm…” Harold responded, a goofy grin on his face. His hand lifted toward her breasts.

“Uh-uh…no touching.” Cyndi batted her eyelashes again. Harold seemed to like that. “Where did you go when you left the club last Friday?” Cyndi inquired, working hard to make the words sound seductive, a promise of something more.

“Oh, you know…here and there,” Harold replied as his head fell back and he shifted his hips. Cyndi all but leaped off his lap as the hardness in his pants brushed her thigh.

“Push him more,” the voice instructed. “You’ve almost got him.”

“I missed you for my second set,” she teased, rising from where she was seated and walking around Harold, trailing her fingers up one of his arms, across his shoulders, and down the other side. “No sense in Lola having all the fun.”

“Did you now?” Harold played along, slipping another dollar bill into the top of her bustier.

“Did you see Lola? It seemed like the two of you were getting along.” Cyndi kept the questions coming as she turned to slide her back down Harold’s body again.

“Why would I want to talk about Lola when I am at full attention for Lady Liberty?” Howard groaned. “This isn’t what we should be talking about right now.”

“Well, if you want your little soldier to come out and play, you need to tell me what you and Lola did on Friday night. I might want in on a little of that action.” Cyndi heard the boys laughing in her earpiece, and she was afraid if she didn’t get an answer soon, Jason was going to beat Harold to death.

“Oh, sweetie, just give me my twenty dollars’ worth. I never mix business with pleasure.”

“Is this the business or the pleasure?” She leaned her head back, giving Harold—and Jason—another prime view of her breasts.

“Liberty, you are all pleasure.” Harold groaned as reached out to grab her ass. Cyndi jumped back.

“Come on, Harold…you know the rules, no touching.” She batted her fake eyelashes at him once more to smooth things over, but she knew the moment was lost.

Apparently, so did the cops coaching her. “You better back off, Mrs. Mills. He isn’t going to give you anything else. And your husband looks like he is going to blow his cover. And yours.”

Cyndi caught sight of Jason. They were right. Giving Harold one last sexy glance, she slipped through the crowd toward the back of the club. It was time for some air and a cold drink.

Beads of sweat trickled down the sides of her face and along the back of her neck. She needed an ice cold glass of water. Johnny worked the bar, giving her the perfect excuse to keep Jason at bay. As she walked, someone stepped in front of her as the music started again.

“Jason! You aren’t supposed to know me.”

“No one can hear me in this place.” He nodded toward the stage. “What the hell was that?”

Cyndi grinned and winked at her husband. She knew exactly what he was talking about, but she played dumb. “Did you like the song I chose for you?”

“Did you see the way that guy looked at you?”

“Honestly, J.J., I don’t even notice. I just dance.”

Jason folded his arms across his chest. “Dance! You were practically doing him right there in his chair!”

“Can we talk about this at home? I have a job to do.” She nodded at that invisible microphone under her bustier.

“Oh, you can bet we will talk about this at home. If I decide to go home tonight.” Passing her a curt nod, Jason disappeared into the sea of bodies, and Cyndi stayed at the bar.

“That guy giving you trouble, Cyn?” Johnny indicated the direction Jason had gone.

“Nah.” Cyndi shot the bartender a flirty grin. “He was telling me how much he enjoyed my set.”

“I like the new song. “Trashy Women.” Sort of ironic that you, of all people, chose that tune.”

“Why?”

“Ummm…because you are as Susie Homemaker as they come.”

She spun her boob tassels and passed Johnny a sultry look. “Do you call this Susie Homemaker?”

“Oh, please, you couldn’t be trashy if someone threw you in a dumpster. You are Miss Middle Class America, doll. Why do you think all these Joes like you so much? You make them feel less guilty about stepping out on their girls because you remind them of their ladies.”

Cyndi put her arms on the bar and leaned in close so only Johnny could hear her. “Don’t we all have our secret sides,
Jonet?
”

“Ain’t nothing secret ’bout me, Liberty. Everybody in this place knows I got my lady alter ego.”

“Do they know how often you wear a purple lace bra and matching underwear under your jeans and t-shirt?”

“It’s not like I strip down up there on the stage and advertise it.”

“So, it’s like your little guilty pleasure that’s just for you to know about?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well, how do you know I don’t have one or two little guilty pleasures of my own? Why do you think I come in here every Friday night? My husband makes a fair living. I don’t need the job.”

“You want to know the truth?” Johnny eyed her up and down, a slight smirk on his lips.

“Yeah, I do.”

“I think your old man don’t appreciate how sexy you are, so you come in here to get your rocks off a little.”

She reached over the bar and playfully slugged him. “You don’t know anything about my old man.”

“Well, there has to be some reason you keep this gig a secret.”

“What makes you think I keep it a secret? Maybe he knows exactly where I am.” Cyndi shot a fleeting glimpse at Jason down the other end of the bar, but his eyes were on the stage. His frame was rigid, his features as hard and cold as a glacier. A girl she didn’t recognize was up there dancing to some nineties hip-hop song Cyndi had never heard before. Every word she and Johnny had just exchanged had been recorded and surely would be shared with Jason later, if it hadn’t been already.

Damn
.

Nothing she could do about it, so she might as well push forward. Cocking her head toward the stage she asked, “Who’s the new girl?”

“That’s Maggie. Just started today.”

“She’s pretty good, although I hate the music. Lola would have never danced to that hip-hop crap.”

Johnny cleaned a spot on the bar with a white towel. “Yeah, things won’t be the same without her around here. I wish I hadn’t left early that night.”

“You left early? I thought you always closed this place down?”

“Yeah, usually, but not last Friday. Left right after you. Had a hot date. Thought this one would work out too, she used to be a he…thought she could appreciate my little ‘quirks,’ if you know what I mean?”

“You meet him—her—here at the club?”

“No, ma’am. Personal ad on one of those internet sites. You know, male seeking female…former male, now female seeking understanding cross-dresser…”

“They got a column for that?”

Johnny threw back his head and bellowed, “Of course not! Told you you’re too Susie Homemaker for this kinda life!”

Cyndi ignored his jab and pressed forward. Johnny was a colorful soul. Cyndi found the man endearing, but a lot of “normal” people didn’t know what to make of him. “Well, how did the date go? Will you see her again?”

“Nope.” Johnny drew a couple of draft beers and exchanged them for a ten dollar bill. Cyndi watched the customer—a youngster, barely twenty-one, if that—make his way back to a group of college-aged guys. The whole lot of them were reaching out to the new girl, trying to touch her. Johnny and Cyndi watched as Rafael got on them in a heartbeat. Whatever he said worked; they dropped back in their seats and continued their catcalling and caterwauling from a safer distance.

Turning her attention back to Johnny, she tried hard not to notice that Jason had relocated his piercing stare to her.

Johnny didn’t pretend though. He shot Jason a middle finger. “That jackass down there is eyeballing you now. Want me to punch him in the throat?”

Cyndi laughed. “No need! As long his eyeballs are the only thing on me, I’m good. So, why aren’t you and your date going out again?”

Johnny just shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. “Just wasn’t a good match.”

“Anyone here, besides old Harold over there, pay Lola a little too much attention?”

“They all loved Lola the same as they love you. She was young and innocent looking, very popular with the subset who appreciates them young, if you know what I mean…”

Yeah, she knew what he meant, and it grossed her out. The music changed. She only had a few songs before her second set. Roxy appeared on stage for her second run. After the older woman, there would be a short DJ break, and then her. “Hey, Johnny, I gotta go get ready for my next set.”

“Yeah, sure thing, girl. If that jackass gives you trouble, you let me know, and I’ll take care of him.” Johnny indicated Jason, who still sat at the end of the bar, watching them with a stony expression.

“Thanks, Johnny, but I’m pretty certain he will behave himself. He doesn’t look creepy, like ol’ Harold over there.”

Johnny shot her a wink and stepped away to take an order. Cyndi pushed her way through the crowds, muttering into the mic on her chest, “Tell my husband to lighten up. The bartender wants to throat punch him and toss him out of here for hassling me!”

No one answered her, but she heard the two officers whispering, “I knew Mills couldn’t handle his hot wife struttin’ her stuff, Hap.”

Hmmm…they thought she was hot. It was nice to know she was still attractive to other men. Especially when Jason acted like the jackass Johnny accused him of being.

“Taking care of it, Mrs. Mills,” the voice, louder this time, filled her ear. “You did a good job with the bartender. Was he really wearing a bra and panties?”

“Always does, boys,” she spoke quietly as she headed to the dressing room. “Says it’s sort of like foreplay. All that satin and lace rubbing up against him all night.”

She heard a hoot and then a burst of laughter. “No shit!”

Cyndi smiled, even though they couldn’t see her. “No shit.”

“Why are you smiling? What’s so funny?”

She spun around on one red stiletto heel to find Jason standing behind her, arms folded over his chest. “Jason! You shouldn’t be back here. It will draw suspicion. Here, step outside.”

They ducked out the door into the alley.

“No one saw me. What are those numb-nuts saying in your ear mic?”

“They wanted to know if Johnny really wore women’s underwear under his clothes, and I said yes.”

“Who the hell is Johnny? Another lap dance?”

“Come on, Jason! That was work—they told me he was a possible suspect. Johnny is the bartender I was just talking to. The one you were shooting daggers at.”

“That dude has a serious problem.”

“Come on, J.J.! We are here to do a job together. You’re supposed to be backing me up, not babysitting!”

“Like you were backing up on that dirtbag?”

“Jason! What the hell? I was trying to get information out of him. He might know what happened to Lola!”

“So you stick your ass and your boobs in his face and give him a hard-on the size of Texas?”