Special guest

Danielle's POV

 

I hurriedly gulped down a shot of tequila, wincing as the liquid burnt my throat. From how Mr. Cox, my manager had been yelling at everyone, I could tell this was going to be a very long night and definitely not one for me to be sober.

 

I was sitting in front of a mirror in our dressing room, giving myself a once-over, as I adjusted the strap of my bra and panties. The purple bruise around my left eye still remained obvious, after my attempts to cover it up with some makeup. I wasn't too bothered though, because I always wear a mask when I perform. None of those bloody perverts would be seeing my face anyway.

 

"Hey Danny!" Mr. Cox called out to me, standing in the doorway with his signature scowl on his face.

 

I turned around to look at him with widened eyes. Anytime he called me out like that, it was usually never good news.

 

"Get your butt to the VIP room tonight, we're short-staffed." He ordered, making a small gasp escape my lips.

 

"But Mr. Cox, I …"  I was about to protest before he cut me off with his words.

 

"A hundred bucks!" 

 

"I'll increase your pay by a hundred bucks if you just do as you're told, dammit!" He whined, running his hands through his balding head.

 

Stripping down to fancy underwear and dancing for hundreds of strangers every night was bad enough. Now I had to do it in the VIP section with the worst perverts of all? I heard that the men in the VIP section are allowed to touch or even molest strippers and that thought sent a shiver down my spine.

 

"Mr. Cox, listen to.." 

 

"Alright, alright... 200 bucks and that's final." He grumbled, before lighting a cigarette.

 

I let out a frustrated sigh, knowing fully well that I needed the money. I lived with my deadbeat father and younger brother of 9 years, who depended solely on my income. Our rent was due, and I also needed the money to pay up some of my college debts. 

 

"And one more thing.." Mr. Cox said, turning around again to face me.

 

"We have a very special guest and I want you to be real nice to him. You won't be needing that." He instructed, pointing towards the mask in my hand and making me frown at him.

 

I was about to ask him why or even refuse, but he was already on his way out of the room, leaving me in utter perplexity.

 

Although I wasn't in agreement with his instructions, I had no other option than to obey. I've been working here for a few months now, and they pay more than the coffee shop down the street. As a college student, hiding my identity was very important to me, but one "special guest" can't be that bad, right?

 

I was soon standing in front of the door to the VIP section, taking in deep breaths to calm my wracking nerves.

 

"Here goes...." I whispered to myself, before pushing the door open and walking inside. 

 

I was soon staring into a pair of the most mesmerizing blue eyes I've ever seen. He was relaxing back on the sofa, a calm look on his face that still managed to scream so much dominance. Looking down at his body, I realized that he was shirtless and, my goodness! He was built like a freaking god of sex or something. The whole length of both his arms were covered in tattoos, adding to his already dangerous aura.

 

I managed to tear my eyes off his body, clearing my throat to gather back my composure, as I walked towards some dancing poles in the dimly lit room. My legs were shaky, as I felt his eyes on my body but I forced myself to ignore them.

 

The way he stared at me in silence, was in contrast to all the dirty talk and catcalling I'd gotten used to. His eyes roamed my body in a way that made me feel completely naked, as I danced. He had this steely, cold gaze that held so much intensity, so much sensuality.

 

I quietly executed all the moves I'd learned, grinding and pressing my half-naked body up against the pole. I tried to maintain eye contact with him as I've been taught, but always end up looking away. His deep, raspy voice suddenly echoed through the room, making me pause for a second.

 

"Come here!" he commanded.

 

I felt my wobbly legs taking me towards him, almost like they were moving on their own accord. A tiny voice at the back of my mind kept screaming at me not to go, but I just couldn't stop. 

 

I was suddenly in front of him, watching him lick his lips, as he eyed me lustfully.

 

He was suddenly standing up to his full height, towering over me and, for a moment there, I forgot to breathe.

 

"I'm going to have you tonight." He said with a very thick, Italian accent, making heat pool in my nether regions. He sounded just as erotic as he looked, but I wasn't going to fall for all that.

 

"No!" I replied, slapping his hands away from my boobs. I wasn't about to start sleeping with strangers for money. That was where I drew my line.

 

"I wasn't asking." He growled, grabbing my waist and pulling me close to him. His hands were roaming my body and I struggled to free myself from his strong grip.

 

"I... said...NOOO!!!" I yelled, finally succeeding in pulling away from him.

 

He looked shocked for a second but was quick to cover it up with a sneer. With every one step he took towards me, I took two steps back, maintaining my distance from the dangerous, Italian beast of a man. A very sexy, seductive beast of a man.

 

"How much do you want, bitch?" He asked with clenched teeth.

 

Slowly, I could feel my blood boil with an unholy amount of rage. I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself. 

 

"I'm not for sale!" I fired at him, but he wasn't willing to back off.

 

"Yes you are. I can always have you at the right price," he said. 

 

That was the final straw for me because, the next second, I was slapping him hard across the face, turning his head to the side.

 

My eyes widened in fear when I realized what I had just done, and I was running towards the exit without looking back. I slapped an undoubtedly dangerous man across the face, and I wasn't willing to wait to see his reaction.

 

The last thing I remember before slamming the door shut was those icy, blue eyes glaring at me. He didn't shout angrily like my father or run after me, he just glared in silence. And somehow, that scared me more.