look up at the building, painted black and freaking huge, but it’s not exactly what I was expecting. I step up to the door and the half look I get inside just confirms it.
The Boulevard is really nice.
Clean and neat, it looks like a super exclusive sex club or something, nothing sleazy or shady about it at all. The bouncer is already at the door and although he’s freaking huge he’s also clean-cut and respectful as he looks over my ID. Not once does he make a dirty comment or check me out, just looks over my license and hands it back, careful not to touch me.
Shit, this place might actually work.
“You here for a job?”
I force a smile on my face and nod. “I heard you’re looking for girls.”
He nods and keeps his eyes off of me. “Diamond takes care of the hiring and firing, she’s in the back. Speck can take you, he’s helping out here today.”
Speck.
That’s a weird name but I don’t mention it at all, I just nod and thank him quietly while he talks into an earpiece. It’s so… formal and official. Nothing like what I expect from a biker-owned club, even with the rumors of this place.
The bouncer, his name tag says Mike, shows me to a booth and leaves a sealed bottle of water with me to drink. I wait until he’s gone before I check the seal, run my fingers over the whole thing to make sure it hasn’t been tampered with in some other way, but I don’t find anything.
I don’t drink it.
I’m too cautious, too scared about even being here to risk it, but I relax just enough into the plush cushions of the booth that I don’t feel as though I’m going to vomit on my own feet.
It’s already busy here, even so early in the night. Men are everywhere but they’re respectful of the women, even while they’re having lap dances they don’t attempt to touch the women or make any terrible comments. There’s no way I want to be getting that close but it’s another mark in the ‘yes’ column for me. The longer I’m here the more I’m finding that this place might be right for me. I keep waiting to find some sign to say there’s people trafficking or drug dealing going on, but the longer I sit in the booth the more comfortable I get.
“Hey, gorgeous! You must be from outta town because I’d remember that face if I’d seen it before.”
I freeze and glance up to find a guy leaning against the booth table. He’s grinning down at me and he has dimples. Honest to God dimples. The leather vest over his shoulders that’s covered in grinning skulls and patches looks entirely out of place with his freaking dimples. He leans down to hold out a hand for me and though I’m sure he’s cute enough to other people, I cringe away from him a little before I can stop myself.
His eyes take it in but the smile barely falters on his face. “It’s all good, gorgeous, I’m just trying to talk to ya. We don’t let girls dance here unless we like ‘em.”
Oh God.
There it is.
There’s the warning sign, the bikers try out the girls before they dance because this guy is wearing one of those leather vests so there’s no mistaking he’s in the MC.
“I’m probably not cut out for this… I’m not exactly likable,” I mumble and stand up.
He laughs at me and shrugs. “That face is definitely likable. What’s your name?”
It’s still weird to use the new one I’ve chosen, so I roll it around on my tongue to taste it. “Angel. Angel Valetti.”
He motions for me to follow him and this time he doesn’t try to touch me at all, just waits until he’s sure I’m close behind him before walking me across the club and out behind the bar. There’s a lot of back rooms here, a locker room and a full set of showers. There aren’t any bedrooms that I can see so there’s another positive. I don’t wanna find myself being pimped out, that’s for sure. I just wanna dance.
We pass some other girls, all of them topless and giggling at him as they pass him. He grins at them but when they move past us both he turns his body just a little like he’s shielding me from their view.