Vicious Cycle (Vicious Cycle #1)(66)
“I can’t be with someone who doesn’t care about my feelings. This may seem small now, but what happens when it’s something bigger? He told me he loved me, yet he can go down and watch naked women hump a pole? It doesn’t add up.”
“Deacon is just being stubborn. He’s never had to justify his actions to any woman. Nor has he ever had one tell him no, except his mama. You need to find a way to turn the tables on him, give him a taste of his own medicine.”
With a mirthless laugh, I said, “Why does all your advice come in the form of a game?”
“Because that’s what works with these men, honey. I wouldn’t have told you to play strip poker to get your man to touch you again if you’d been dating a banker or even a mechanic. But you’re with one of the Raiders, and they’re a whole different breed of men.”
“You’re right,” I replied. I then thought about how Deacon went caveman at the poker game when he thought his brothers were going to see me naked. I obviously couldn’t stage another poker game. I had to find a different means this time. And then it hit me.
“Kim, do you have any connections down at the Lounge?”
Her brows furrowed. “What are you talking about?”
“I mean, someone you could call for a favor.”
“Yeah, I guess so. Why?”
“I just thought of a way to beat Deacon at his own game.”
When she realized what I meant, her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. “Holy shit. Are you serious?”
“You don’t think it will work?”
She laughed. “Oh, honey, I think it will be the most f*cking epic thing ever.”
Nibbling on my lip, I then asked, “You don’t think it’s too much?”
With a wink, she replied, “It’s all in how far you go.”
I drew in a deep breath before I broached a difficult subject. “Would you be willing to help me?”
The amusement in Kim’s face faded. When she began to wring her hands in her lap, I regretted mentioning it. I knew it was a lot to ask of her. “Look, it was wrong of me to ask. I’m sure I can bribe one of the regulars for some help.”
When I rose out of the chair, she reached for my hand to stop me. “I think I can make an exception for you.”
“Really? You mean it?”
She nodded. “Besides, it’s coming up on my and Case’s anniversary. Might be nice to give him a lap dance for old times’ sake.”
I laughed. “Only if you’re sure.”
“I am. I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”
“So what do we do now?”
Kim grinned. “We go make the ballet dancer in you into a pole dancer.”
As I paced behind the curtain in my clear high heels, I wondered what the hell I had been thinking to entertain the thought of stripping for Deacon. Sure, the club was closed to its regular clientele and only patch-holding Raiders would be allowed in. That’s the only reason I even allowed myself to entertain the idea of stripping. The last thing I needed was for someone to recognize me. I could kiss my teaching career good-bye if that got out.
I peeked out into the audience, squinting to see past the glittering black mask that covered my eyes. At least ten of the Raiders sat in the first row of chairs next to the stage. Although I didn’t plan on taking everything off, the G-string I was wearing along with my bra top wasn’t going to leave much to the imagination. I wasn’t sure I would ever be able to look at Rev or Bishop again.
But when I zeroed in on Deacon’s face in the front row, rage flew through me. What the hell? He was in the f*cking front row. I mean, could he have at least hung out in the back? Oh, I was going to make that * pay.
Kim had sacrificed her entire day to help me. She’d taught me how to work the pole, found me an outfit to go with my music, and then did my hair and makeup. She had also pulled some strings to get me the first audition spot.
Coco, the head girl, took the microphone next to me. “Okay, we’re ready to begin.”
Whistles and catcalls echoed behind the curtain. I could tell the men were more than ready to get the show on the road. Kim fluffed my hair and adjusted my cowboy hat once more before belting the long duster I was wearing. “You go out there and get your man.”
“I’m going to try.”
She smacked me on the ass before heading back into the wings. The opening chords of the music echoed out of the speakers. Cher’s “Just Like Jesse James.” Not the most obvious choice when it came to stripping, but it was one I had carefully picked because of the meaning it had for Deacon.
As the curtain was flung open, I had one second of sheer panic shoot from the top of my head down to my feet. And then it was gone. It was replaced by courage pulsing through me. I didn’t think about who was at the end of that stage. I didn’t think about the fact I was merely a kindergarten teacher who had somehow gotten off on the wrong path. I didn’t think about the inhibitions that usually curbed any wild behavior.
Instead, I strutted down that stage to the pole, swaying my hips provocatively from side to side. It gave the men the smallest peek at my thighs and what else might be under my duster. Staring out into the crowd, I slowly and deliberately undid my belt, making a production out of it. When I whipped open the duster and then stripped it off, I was rewarded with bellowing approval from the men.