Stronger With Her (2 page)

“Ah, The Shady Sprocket. Do they still have the free buffet on Friday nights? If I remember right, they had the best chicken wings in the area,” he says with a big smile.

“I’m not sure about that since I don’t go there very often. Wanna come with us?” John’s always looking for a reason to avoid his wife.

“Nah, but thanks. Maureen’s got her bunko group tonight so I’ll have the house to myself. I’m looking forward to sitting in my chair watching whatever the hell I want on TV.”

“Well, you enjoy yourself,” I say as I make my way into the house. “I’ve got to get a shower and get out of here.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, little bro,” he yells over his shoulder as he walks to his truck. I shake my head and close the door.

“Did John leave without saying goodbye?” my mother asks from the living room.

“Yes, he did, Ma. He said he was going to enjoy an evening alone in his house. He got your car fixed. You should probably take it easy, though. He’s going to get tired of being your personal mechanic.” I smile at her.

“I’m not that bad, and he loves helping his momma. All my boys do.” She laughs because she knows that all of us would do anything for her. That’s probably why I still live with her. She hates to be alone.

“You’re right, Ma. I’ve got to go get cleaned up. We’re going out for Paul’s birthday party tonight.”

“All right, sweetie. Be sure you let me know when you leave.”

“Will do,” I say as I head upstairs to take a shower.

When you walk into The Shady Sprocket, the first thing you’re hit with is the smell. It’s difficult to describe. Something like desperation and false bravado mixed with sweat and grease. It’s truly a unique experience. After the assault on your olfactory, your vision is hit with colored blinking lights that dance around the room with the music that blares at levels higher than eleven. It’s the complete opposite of the rest of my life. Unfortunately, it’s Paul’s favorite place to go.

We make our way to the table that’s reserved for us right next to the stage. Of course it is. Paul grins like a kid in a candy store. It’s pathetic, really. Aren’t we supposed to be grown men?

“This place just gets more disgusting every time we come back,” I say out loud.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Runt?” Paul fires back. “This place is the fucking bomb! The absolute best place to celebrate. Right, boys?” He high fives Brandon and Ryan who grin back.

“What you need is some tits in your face and your dick in a pussy. That’ll get you out of that foul mood,” Ryan says as he slaps me on the back. I punch him in the arm with a smile. Before it goes any further, the waitress comes over. She’s dressed in the standard uniform here: shorts that barely cover her ass and a bikini top. She smiles at us, and I can see spaces where she’s missing teeth.

“What’ll y’all have tonight, fellas?” she asks as she bends over to put napkins on the table, giving Paul a really good look at her tits.

“Shots. We need shots of tequila,” Paul states, not looking at her face. I groan knowing that this night is not going to end well.

“Comin’ right up,” she says as she walks away, wiggling her ass.

“Now that’s something that would definitely cheer you up, James,” Ryan says. I shake my head and start to reply, but the DJ interrupts me.

“Next up, we have the lovely Lexie Jade and in about twenty minutes Vixen will be taking the stage. Lexie Jade to the main stage, please.”

Paul’s head pops up like a prairie dog. “Vixen’s dancing tonight? This is going to be the best night ever!” he yells as the waitress sets down the tequila shots.

Now, I’m not against seeing a woman work a pole. On the contrary, I just get tired of wasting my money for nothing, you know? If I’m going to spend money on a woman, I want to have a nice meal and conversation. Not her tits pressed in my face and a five-minute grind on my lap before moving on to the next guy.

“Here’s to great friends and lots of tits,” Paul shouts as we all down our shots. Ugh, I hate tequila. I flag a waitress and order a beer. Anything but more shots.

The guys continue their drinking and eye-fucking every woman who dances in front of them. Brandon buys Paul a double lap dance from Kitten and Burgundy, and I swear the guy comes in his pants. I start to get up to take a piss when the DJ comes on the sound system again.

“Now coming to the main stage is The Shady Sprocket’s very own Vixen!” Paul turns around, practically jumping out of his seat to get closer to the stage. I shake my head and sit back down, effectively moving as far away from the stage as possible. If Paul’s excitement is any indication of how this girl is, my bladder will have to wait so I can watch him make an ass of himself.

All the lights dim as the spotlight focuses on the curtains at the back of the stage. The opening chords of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” are blaring through the speakers, and I roll my eyes at the cliché song. Every stripper uses this one at some point. The curtains open and this tiny woman wearing platform heels, a black leather halter top and the tiniest skirt with zippers up both sides that barely covers her ass slinks out from backstage.

To be fair, everyone is tiny compared to me but she can’t be taller than five and a half feet without her stripper shoes. Walking slowly and seductively up the stage, looking at the men like she wants to eat them, she stops at the pole, leans her back against it and slides down to the floor. She humps the floor a couple times, bounces up to her feet, reaches behind and pulls herself up the pole. She spins around slowly and as she does she slides down, ending in the splits. This routine continues for the duration of the song. All the while, men are throwing money at the stage and vying for her attention while she takes her clothes off, leaving her in just heels and the tiniest black thong on earth.

Just as the song reaches the bridge, she looks directly at me. I find that I can’t look away, like there’s something holding my gaze to hers.

With long black hair, sparkling blue eyes, and plump red lips begging to be kissed, she’s beautiful. There’s no denying it, but it’s something else. I watch her on the stage, twirling on the pole and she looks . . . happy. Most of the women in here look bored like they’re trying to imagine themselves anywhere else. This woman, however, is smiling and enjoying herself; showing off her gorgeous tits as she hangs upside down, sliding toward the stage slowly. My friends have been dragging me here for years, and I’ve never seen anything like it. Obviously, neither have the rest of these men who are going crazy. I can’t believe the sight in front of me of grown men practically crawling over each other to get closer to the stage.

The bouncers must hate this. My friends are in the thick of the crowd, and I shake my head. Being over six five, I don’t have any problem watching the show from where I am. Def Leppard continues to blare out of the speakers, and she moves perfectly with the music. She’s really good and she knows it, teasing and wiggling just enough to keep the dollar bills floating to the stage. Why have I never seen her before and why can’t I take my eyes off her? I feel like I’m under some sort of spell, drawn in by a force I can’t explain but not wanting to fight it at all. It’s not lust; it’s something else.

She smiles and winks at me just before spinning one more time to land on the floor in the splits as the music comes to an end to the loudest cheers I’ve ever heard in here. This girl knows what she’s doing.

The volume of the crowd is deafening as they chant, “Vixen! Vixen!” It takes two men to help her pick up all the money on the stage but she walks slowly around the stage lifting the bills and giving everyone a little bit more attention. I follow her every move, unable to look away. When she finally makes her way backstage, the spell is broken, and I feel like a part of me is missing.
What the fuck is that about?
I throw back the shot that has apparently been waiting for me and shake my head to clear it.

“What a fine piece of ass she would be,” Ryan says. The guys all chime in their agreement, but I want to punch him in the face.

“What’s wrong now, Runt? You look like someone just kicked you in the nads,” Paul yells across the table.

“Who was that?” I ask, not sure how to describe what I’m feeling right now.

“Dude, have you been living in a fucking cave? That’s Vixen,” Paul replies. “You need to get out more.”

“By that you mean come to the strip club and waste my hard-earned money?”

“I mean live a little, man. You’re too serious. Plus, here you get to see tits without the song and dance of a date. Am I right?” He lifts his hand for a high-five, but I don’t reciprocate.

“Are you kidding me? You’re ridiculous.”

“Whatever, dude. You’re old before your time. Why do you have to act like you’re married? We’re in the prime of our lives, and you’re acting like my father,” he says walking away from me.

I think of strangling him for that comment. I’m nobody’s father, not anymore.

T
he crowd tonight was insane. Trevor and Brock help me get everything off the stage and bring it to the back. I’m not a regular employee, so I don’t really have a space for my stuff. I do have a small locker, so I get it open and pull my bag out.

“You did good, Vixen. Quite the haul tonight. Glad to have you back,” Trevor says as he drops my money and my costume on the counter.

“Thank you, sweetie. It felt good to be back out there. I know the other girls are pissed, though.” It makes me sad that they hate me. If they only knew the truth, they’d change their tune but I don’t say a word. It’s better just to do my thing and get out quickly before the cat fights begin.

“Fuck those bitches. They can work for it just like you do,” Trevor says as he pulls me into a strong hug. “Let me know when you’re ready to go and I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thanks. Give me ten,” I say to his back as he walks out of the dressing room.

Once I’m alone, I start the process of taking off all the makeup and getting dressed. I slip my six-inch platforms into my bag. They’re my favorite shoes, with rhinestones across the top and sparkly jewels in the heel. It probably seems crazy to go through all this for one dance, but it’s the one thing I look forward to as a stress reliever. Not many people say that they look forward to the night they get to take their clothes off and dance for strangers, I’m sure. My friends would kill me if they knew this was how I spend an occasional Saturday night. This is for me and only me.

I finish removing my wig, contacts, and makeup, finally getting back to my natural light brown hair and green eyes. Most of this is to make me look like someone else so I can’t be recognized. I change into yoga pants and a long hooded sweatshirt. After adding flip flops, I make my way to the front of the club to find Trevor. He’s my favorite bouncer here. He gets it that we’re here to do a job. He doesn’t ever hit on me or make me feel bad about stripping. It also doesn’t hurt that he’s well over six feet tall and built like a brick wall. He’s the big brother I never had, and I always feel safe when he’s working.

I’ve almost made it to the door when I see him arguing with a guy in one of the groups by the stage. It’s the big guy with the captivating eyes and beard covering most of his face. I noticed him when I was on stage, and I felt a pull. He’s different from the rest of them; like he didn’t want me to do what I was doing. Most men look like cartoons with their tongues hanging out and their eyes bulging from their heads. This guy was giving off a protective vibe, and I kind of liked it. Probably a little more than is good for me. I shake my head and look up to see Trevor looking between the guy and me, keeping a hand on his chest. They’re about the same size so a fight would not be good. I pull my bag higher up on my shoulder and walk out the door, making sure I don’t look back one more time.