“That’s cool,” I hear Kent tell her. “You sure he won’t mind if you hang out with me tonight?”
“He’s my boyfriend. Not my daddy.”
“You need a daddy?”
“Why? You want to tell me what to do too?”
He winks at her. “I do enjoy giving orders.”
“Ahem,” I interrupt them. He looks like a pig rolling in the mud. The top bun on his burger falls over when I slam his plate down.
He raises his eyebrows at me. “Just because you’re at work doesn’t mean our arrangement is null and void. Get my friend a shot, would you, Raina?”
I swallow back my anger. Why am I so mad? He’s being himself. I smother my irrational reaction and smile at him. “Of what?”
“Vodka,” she supplies, snuggling against his chest.
“Of course,” I reply tightly. “Enjoy your food. I’ll be back in a few to check on you.”
I put that shot and the rest of their drinks through the ordering system. I never promised to give his dates free anything. For another hour and a half Kent fondles her right in front of everyone. Girls are all over their table. Even Zeke, the bastard, has a girl. I wonder about his girlfriend, and hope she’s having fun wherever she is.
Suddenly purple lights turn on over the bar. Everyone cheers. They know what’s coming. Every night two girls are chosen to dance on top of the bar to whatever song’s on the radio. Shots are free for as long as they’re dancing and tips are welcome. Wayne turns his cheek at this, because some of the men come in here to watch us gyrate in our short shorts and tight black shirts.
Henley puts a bucket for tips in the middle of the bar. Then she grabs the microphone and climbs up.
“It’s that time again. Come on, girls. I need two of you.”
She looks around the room and her eyes land on Samantha, a curvy waitress with wavy black hair. “Get your butt up here, Sam.”
She turns bright red and unwillingly crawls on top of the bar.
Uh-oh. She’s picking us at random tonight. I’ve only done it once when I first started and have managed to avoid doing it ever since. I back up into the crowd, hoping to use them to conceal me.
“Raina!” she says reproachfully. “Are you trying to hide? Get up here.”
“No,” I begin to say, but hands on my waist cut me off.
Kent picks me up, much to the crowd’s delight. I cover my face with my hands and turn beet red. “Kent,” I whine.
“I want to see you dance on the bar,” he informs me.
“I’d rather not.”
“Too bad,” he counters, setting my feet down on the worn wooden surface.
Almost immediately the music starts. I can either stand here looking stupid, or give Kent what he wants. I want to make him regret it. He knows I know how to dance.
I let the music guide my hips and put my hands in the air, dancing sexier than I ever have before. Over the music I hear the catcalls and whistles. It’s mildly humiliating, but all I see is Kent staring right at me with his mouth agape. Tips fill our buckets at record speed.
I rotate on the bar, giving the crowd a shot of my ass as I let the song guide me. Next to me Samantha awkwardly tries to keep up. I feel bad watching her, so I dance over and grab her hands. I start dancing with her, leading her into the beat. She laughs when I turn around and the entire bar erupts.
I press my butt against her and crane my neck to whisper in her ear. “Let’s drive them crazy.”
She giggles. “You mean crazier?”
I have my first lesbian moment on the bar. I dance against Samantha as she struggles to keep up. I’m sure we both look silly, but Kent’s mouth is now slack and his eyes are leaking their sexiness all over the bar. I dance for him. I turn around and lift our arms in the air as we both wind our hips. I’m glad in that moment that I know how to move.
When the song ends the men and even some women roar with applause. I turn red now that the music isn’t predicting my movements and hop down from the bar, walking past Kent.
“How was that?”
He looks down at me, his obsidian eyes heavy-lidded. “That was…” He shakes his head. “Like my fantasy. After watching you two together