Page 39 of Bratva King's Secret Twins
Oscar lets out a quiet "thank god" as he hurries out the door, leaving me face to face with a brown-skinned girl. She has a large puff of hair on her head, artfully styled with swooped baby hairs around the edges. She's wearing a red satin bodysuitwith a built-in corset, and looks just like Betty Boop. "Hey there, I'm Kimberly. You can call me Kim. Go try on the outfit and I'll give you a tour when you're ready."
I nod and grab my outfit out of my locker, and go into a small private changing area, sliding the curtain closed behind me. Once inside, I strip and start dressing in the gorgeous uniform. I carefully slide on fishnet stockings that sparkle in the light, followed by a vibrant emerald green satin corset bodysuit that embraces every inch of my curves, accentuating my figure in all the right places. Lastly, I slip into sleek black kitten heels, adorned with glittering jewels. I slide open the curtain of the changing area. With each confident stride, my hips sway and cause my ample bosom to peek out from the top of the suit.
I take a deep breath before stepping out of the dressing room. Kim is waiting for me, a smile on her face as she looks me up and down.
“Wow, you look amazing!” she exclaims. “That outfit was made for you.”
I do a little turn at her compliment and smile. The outfit itself seems way more classy than my green two piece I wore at my old gig; this outfit screams class and had a lot of sass. “Thanks, but I totally think this outfit was made for you. You look like Betty Boop.” I point to her outfit and she pokes her left hip out and places her hands on her hip.
“Girl, I like you.” She laughs, reaching her hand out to drag me in closer to her.
“Alright, think of me as yourJohanna’sstudy guide. I have been here the longest and I know the most about everything,” Kim says, leading me out the side doors to the main area of the club.
A high pitch whistle rings out from the bar, and Hudson yells over the music, “Looking sexy, ladies!”
Kim smirks, smacking her ass. “Don’t I know it!” She leans back in whispering to me, “I’m assuming you met Hudson, sweet as pie with a huge dong.”
I giggle. “No way!”
“Girl, I’ve seen it and used it.” Kim stretches her back from side to side. “It almost put me in the hospital.” She points to the main stage where a blonde-haired girl swings around the pole in slow motion in a hook spin, waving to the patrons before flipping down. “That is the main stage.” She points to a hallway lit up in purple lights. “Those are the VIP rooms if someone requests you for a private dance, and that up there,” she points to a large glass room that gleams blue, “That is where the big boss sits. He is one fine man, and one good time to party with if you find him on a low-key night. Most of the girls are scared of him, with good reason, but I’ve known him for eight years. He’s a little shit but he is a good person.”
I stare up at the glass office, the strange feeling of someone making direct eye contact creeping up my body. I keep staring up until I hear Kim laugh in my ear, “You can’t see him, silly. One-way glass.” She turns me around towards the bar. “Your job while you are on the floor is to look good and entertain the masses.” Kim waves to a patron and smiles at me, her pearly white teeth on display.
“Hey, Kimmy baby,” a light skinned man with sparkling brown eyes walks up. Kim immediately cuddles up to him against the bar and he wraps an arm around her waist.
“Hiya, handsome. Gwen, I’ll talk to you later.” The man scoops Kim closer to him and Kim disappears into the shadows with her new companion. I turn my attention backto the pulsating energy of the club. The thumping bass shakes my chest as I survey the crowded club. My body moves to the rhythm without conscious thought, my eyes scan the room until they lock onto a figure approaching me from the dance floor. The guy is tall and lean, with dark hair that falls messily over his forehead, and he moves towards me with smooth, confident steps, his piercing brown eyes never leaving mine as they peer into my very soul. I shift my weight, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing out my lips into a sly smirk.
“What are you drinking?” the man says, sliding up next to me at the bar. I laugh a little to myself, because this guy does a classic move that shows not only is he in control, but that he has been watching me.
“I wasn’t drinking, but I’ll have a rum and coke.” I lean my head to catch the light shining in his caramel eyes, and he chuckles, running his tongue across his lower jaw. He signals for the other bartender to come over and orders my drink along with his own, a Pina Colada.
“Seriously?” I chuckle, but the sound comes out sharp as I can feel the eyes on me from Boss’s quarters again, almost narrowing in on me, constricting my reactions. I clear my throat and lean my hip against the bar as the bartender slides my drink into my hand.
“Have you never had one?” he teases, his eyebrows wiggling at me. “I can order you one.”
I bite my straw before wrapping my lips around and taking a quick sip. He watches my every move, even when I pull my lips away to respond. “Of course. I was just expecting whiskey.”
The guy coughs, shaking his head no as he reaches for the Pina Colada and slides a fifty dollar bill across the bar. “Oh hell no. I don’t like to drink gasoline.”
“Oh, I never said it tasted good, just that is what I expected.” I turn back away, and he leans his butt against the bar with me, pointing to a man who looks like the human version of Scrooge Mcduck. “See, that dude is a multi-billionaire, and he is into tickling.”
I snort, my drink dripping slightly from the corners of my mouth. “No fucking way.”
“Oh yea,” he exclaims, pointing to a man with copper hair, “And he is a huge Wall Street mogul who likes to be degraded.”
“Oh, I can totally see that.” I shrug. “Rich and powerful man wants one part of his life he does not control.”
“So you can believe that, but not that I would drink a Pina Colada?” He laughs.
“Sorry, the weirdest thing here is the Pina Colada,” I tease, knocking him in the hip.
He leans forward, his mouth grazing my ear. “Is it as weird as me asking you for a private dance?”
A sly grin spreads across my lips as I notice his clever maneuver, and I nod in agreement. “I see what you did there, but yeah, let’s go.” Our hands intertwine, and I can’t help but look up to the office windows above, my skin feeling as if it’s on fire, and this is my last warning before I get my punishment. As we approach the private dance room, my skin prickles with anticipation to be alone with a guy who would probably make me laugh more than wet, and I appreciate that for my first lap dance. I confidently make my way through the bustling crowd, following the trail of purple lights that lead to the secluded private dance rooms. The air is thick with the scent ofperfume and sweat, a heady combination that fuels the energy of the room.
I pull the guy forward when a bodyguard stops me a stern look in his eye as he pushes in his headpiece, listening in closely to the message coming through the piece. The bodyguard shakes his head no at us. “You can’t come in here with this patron.”
“Excuse me? I am a dancer here and he asked me for a private dance,” I huff, trying to push past the guard.