Chapter One
Keira Johnson, aka Sexx, took one last look in the
mirror, shifting her red halter top a little more. The D.J.
was going to call her name any minute. Even after a week of
dancing at the club, she still wasn’t over her stage nerves.
She supposed for the most part that, more than worrying
about strangers ogling her, she’d been nervous that one day
her boss might discover that she’d taken on a second job
working nights at Cheaters.
She had worked at the law firm of Douglas and Tremaine
for almost six months before she’d finally concluded that
one job just wasn’t going to pay the bills. If she was ever
going to get out from under her college debts, she was going
to have to try something drastic.
Deciding to work nights as an exotic dancer was pretty
drastic, but then she’d considered long and hard before
she’d finally concluded it was her best option. Nothing else
would bring in enough money to get her debts off of her back
nearly as quickly, and she didn’t think she had the stamina
to hold down two jobs for very long. She didn’t think it
would even have occurred to her to check out the exotic
dance scene except that she’d discovered pretty soon after
she’d started working for the firm that her boss, Devin
Tremaine, entertained his male clients at a strip joint
fairly regularly.
As far as she’d been able to discover, though, Devin
Tremaine always took his clients to the strip club down the
street, the Purple Pony. She’d been as casual as she could
possibly be when she’d asked his personal secretary, Sarah,
on their lunch break one day if he always frequented that
establishment. Sarah had given her a strange look, which had
given her the uneasy feeling that, maybe, she hadn’t been as
subtle as she’d thought, but had assured her that Mr.
Tremaine always went to the Purple Pony.
It was for that reason Kiera had chosen Cheaters, even
though the Purple Pony seemed to be more popular, catering
to a more upscale clientele that probably meant it would
also have paid better. Far better, she’d thought, to take a
little longer to shed those debts that had been keeping her
awake at night than risk the chance of running into her boss
and losing the job she expected to make a career out of.
Sarah had been Mr. Tremaine’s personal secretary since
they’d started the law firm, and she knew him better than
anyone else. If she said he never went to Cheaters, Kiera
was sure she could count on the information being reliable.
Her own, more limited, knowledge of Mr. Tremaine
supported that. Since she’d started working at the law firm,
Keira had noticed many things about her entirely too
handsome boss. Not to say he was OCD, but he was definitely
a creature of habit and always did things the same way. He
kept his blonde hair short and impeccably neat, parted just
off the side, smoothed straight despite its tendency to
curl—not a hair out of place—and it never budged, just like
him. He never relented on office policy. He never arrived
late, never socialized internally. His clothing and demeanor
were always immaculate, perfect. And he expected all the
qualities and practices he exhibited to be followed to the
letter by his employees, all of them, no matter their job at
the company.
It was no surprise to her to learn from many of the
female employees that the straight-laced, extremely cold and
serious Mr. Tremaine had never dated anyone in the law firm.
She had heard horror stories of women who thought they could
work their way up the social ladder by engaging in a
relationship with him. It hadn’t taken long for them to be
shown the door.
Following office policy hadn’t been a problem for Keira
but being able to get by with the salary they’d started her
off on was another matter. Her college loans and the cost of
living in a big city were bearing down on her. She had
recently been forced to choose between eating and paying
rent—and she didn’t like those kinds of choices. She knew
that something had to give, and it wouldn’t be a promotion
at work. She hadn’t worked there long enough to expect
anything of the sort. The only solution was a second job,
which the law firm had expressly forbid. But she didn’t have
a choice in the matter. And the only job she could get with
flexible hours at night that could offset her loans was a
job as a stripper. They paid cash, she worked under a stage
name, and she didn’t have to claim the income. She had only
taken the job as a temporary fix anyway, hoping that in
another six months she would get a promotion and she’d be
able to quit the second job.
“Let’s give a round of applause for China. And now
introducing . . . Sexx!” D.J. Mike announced on the microphone.
That was her cue. By that time, Keira had taken her
place. At the announcement, she stepped out onto the stage,
passing China on the way. Dazzled by the spotlights and,
thankfully, unable to really see the audience, Keira claimed
the stage, using the strut she’d been taught as she slunk
with a provocative sway of her hips across the smooth
surface. Grabbing the steel pole in the middle of the stage
once she reached it, she began to twirl around it sinuously,
taking care not to loose her footing. The six inch heels
she’d bought for the job were dangerous.
She turned her back to one side of the stage, dipping low
as she slid her hands down the pole, using her legs to shake
her ass.
The men behind her cheered, waving dollars.
She crouched down and bounced her ass a few times to the
beat of the music before turning and dropping to her knees
to crawl on the stage in front of the men, keeping her gazed
focused on where she was going and her mind on maintaining
the sensual movement. She’d discovered it helped to ‘tune’
out her audience as much as possible.
Grabbing the garter on her thighs as she passed them, the
men began to insert their money, using the opportunity for a
quick feel.
Keira had only made it around half of the stage before
the next song in her set came on. She used the pole to get
up and turned her ass to the other side of the stage as she
tried to seductively slide out of her leather hipster
shorts. Turning around, leaning back against the pole for
support, she slipped the knot at the neck of her halter and
then the one just behind her back, holding the cups over her
breasts for a moment before she whipped it away by the
strings, twirled it a couple of times to set her breasts to
jiggling in a circular motion, and then tossed the halter
toward the back of the stage. She slid down the pole then,
dropping to her knees, and then crawled in front of the men.
Coming up on her knees, she cupped her breasts in front of
them, massaging them, playfully jiggling her breasts before
sliding a hand down her hip to play with the ties on her
string bottoms. When the appreciative catcalls reached a
fever pitch from her teasing, she came up on her knees,
sidling closer to the edge of the stage to offer her garter
for more tips. Allowing her eyes to drift half closed as if
she was unbearably excited by them and the feel of her own
body, she continued to move with the music, skimming her
hands along her torso from breasts to hips and back again to
draw the men’s gazes to her smooth skin.
Even focused as she was on undulating her body sinuously,
on pretending to be caught up in a sexual haze as she lifted
and stroked her breasts, Keira noticed the large hand that
snaked out and tucked a twenty dollar bill in her garter,
stroking lightly along her thigh. A thrill went through her
since she rarely saw anything bigger than a five.
Dropping to her hands and knees directly in front of the
big tipper, she shook her breasts almost in his face,
lifting them to him in offering.