Sacrilege

by MimiLuvs16

Kaia Miller needs the money, so she decides to dance a shift at Salome's Quarters, a well-known strip club in Gotham City which is a hang-out spot for the city's well-known criminals. During her gig, she is lucky enough to nab a spot in the 'Presidential Suite', to privately dance for a patron. What will happen to the young dancer, when she meets Australia's famous dirt-bag?

1. Chapter 1

A/N: This story was an idea that was sitting in my head, taking up space and not paying me rent at all. LOL!

The seedling that was the inspiration behind this story had come from Beyonce's "Lemonade" album. To be more specific, I was inspired by Beyonce's "6 Inch". So, this one-shot will also be a 'song-fic'.

With this creative idea, I was going to write an 'one-shot' involving the Divergent character, Eric and have him interact with an 'O/C' of mine. However, things change, courtesy of my muse.

The same muse that provided the low-rent step routine that I've written about (on Tumblr), previously.

So, I've made a few changes and now it is a creative writing project that involves our favorite and beloved ass-wipe from the Land of Down Under, 'Captain Boomerang'.

I'll admit, mama is kind of nervous about this one.

I've mentioned this one, before: I am not well-versed in all things "Captain Boomerang". I am not familiar with his character (aside from the 'Suicide Squad' film). So please, bear with me.

Enjoy! And, Thanks for reading!

Pairing: Captain Boomerang/OFC

Mature/NSFW/Contains foul language and SMUT (I had to really make that point across, for the peeping kiddies).

A/U and Non-Canon, Captain Boomerang is definitely-definitely OOC in this one.

Updated A/N: Right now, I am bored at work (covering for a co-worker, whose boss goes to a lot of meetings) and I've been going over this story. Rather than wait until I finish it, I've decided to split it up into two chapters and give y'all the first chapter, now. You can blame this on the gingko baloba that is in my system. LOL!

Hopefully, I will be finish with the second chapter before Monday night is over. Judging by the upcoming weather forecast for New York City, I might be stuck inside of the house and this will be done. Hopefully...

Happy reading!

I love you, peoples!

---

"Aunt Kiki?"

Kaia didn't know which factor caused her mind to quickly go into "High Alert" mode: the fact that her 10-year-old niece Alana was on the phone, at 9:34 at night or the fact that the little girl's voice contained fear.

"Alana?" the twenty-nine-year old woman announced into the phone as her upper body raise from the mattress and into an upright position. Her left arm swiftly shot out to the side, so her left hand could search out for the plastic switch from the bedside lamp. "What are you doing up, baby?" she asked, with her voice calm and steady. Once her fingertips found the hard plastic, there was a gentle flick of her wrist and her bedroom was filled with artificial light. Her sight immediately landed on the electric alarm clock that was resting beside the lamp's base. Her brain quickly assessed the time. "Honey, you should be getting ready for bed. You have school—

"Aunt Kiki, we have no lights," the child swiftly confessed.

'What?' her brain groaned with confusion. Seconds later, her lips spewed the same inquiry.

"The lights," the girl said softly before releasing a sigh into the phone. It reported everything that the child wasn't saying to her aunt. There was frustration. Anger. Sadness, in that non-verbal breath. "When I came home on Friday, from school, the lights were not working," she confessed.

'WHAT?! Two days—

"Mommy said that the light-man had come and turned them off because we don't have the money…"

'God… Damn it, Jackie,' Kaia silently declared, out of anger. 'She should've asked me if she…'

"…and she said that she doesn't know when they are going to be on again."

Kaia unleashed her own sigh of frustration. Her left hand reached up to the satin hair bonnet that covered the top-half of her head and ripped off the hair apparel. "'Lana, where's your mother—

"She's in the bathroom, getting ready to go out with her friends…"

'What?!' Her eyes had gone wide. 'Who-the-fuck goes out on a Sunday night, when their kids have to go to school tomorrow morning?!' she silently questioned. 'Where-in the-hell does she get off going out while her kids are in the fuckin'—

"…Auntie…" There was another sigh. "She doesn't know that I am calling you, right now. She told me and Mia to not tell anybody about it," she confessed.

A wave of unbridled heat covered her skin just as her anger was rising to the surface. Her eyes peered away from the nightstand's surface and glared at the ceiling to her bedroom. The imagined face of her late brother popped up in her mind. 'Damn it Kyle, you really did a great job with picking out this woman,' she muttered in her head.

'People grieve in many different ways, Kiki. She's…She's trying to find her way back to the living, honey…'

"Yeah… What…Ever," muttered Kaia as she stared straight ahead. She sighed and then quickly came up with a plan. "'Lana?" she breathed into the phone.

"Yeah, Aunt Kiki?" the girl said softly, revealing her natural, gentle disposition.

"I need you to do me a favor, okay, sweetheart…" As she spoke into the phone, she wondered what time did a local branch of the Gotham Electric opened. "…what time do you usually get to school?"

Once she revealed her plan and intentions to her niece, she assuaged the child's fear and then gave her the promise that everything was going to be okay. She also promised the child that she would pick both of her nieces up on the following Friday and take care of them for the weekend. By the time the phone call ended, the ten-year-old was in a better place, spiritually and emotional-wise.

After ending her phone call, Kaia used her cell phone again and dialed up another number. As her right thumb pressed the digit keypad, her mind held the image of the man that she was about to speak with. Her stomach unleashed a surly grumble, in response. Vincent "Vegas Vinnie" Fabian wasn't the first person that would come to her mind, when she needed help. In fact, she didn't consider Vegas Vinnie to be the last person either. But Kaia was desperate for the cash, at the moment.

There were multiple rings before she heard a soft clicking noise and then masculine and friendly "Well, hello, Kaia".

"Hey… Vinnie," she said, without the same amount of enthusiasm in her voice.

"I'm surprise to hear from ya," the club manager mischievously declared. "I wonder… Is this about the opening in tonight's line-up?"

Kaia rolled her eyes and her top lip curled in distaste. "Yes," she confessed. "Yeah," she confirmed once again, before swallowing and attempting to chase away the foul taste of annoyance.

"Ohhh really?" he swooned. "I thought that you weren't interested in dancing here, when my brother asked you, yesterday. What changed your mind? Hmm? You've come to realize that your… Mini-McMansion in Yakonkwe Falls wasn't enough excitement for you and now you want to come down to Gotham and mingle with us peasants and lepers?" he smugly queried.

'Yeah Vinnie, my four-bedroom, split-level house and the quiet suburbs with the sweat-suit grannies is just… two-times better than living in Beverly Hills,' she quietly groaned.

"I thought…" She paused. She blew air at the wisps of hair that swung in front of her eyes. "Things had come up…" She temporarily pursed her lips. She slightly shook her head. "I… I need the money. I need to make some quick cash by tomorrow morning," she confessed. Her stomach rumbled. 'I hate asking this rotten bastard for help,' she quietly bemoaned. "Alright? I need the money."

"Oh, so why did you call me up? Why didn't you call Sweets Daniels up and ask him to dance in his club? After all, you do have a steady gig in his club," Vegas Vinnie pointed out, reveling in the fact that he had revealed that he knew about her dancing gig at a rival club.

It didn't matter to the young woman. She knew that Vinnie didn't care about her gigs, either. After all, it was his brother David, who convinced her to dance at Salome's Quarters. 'Because Sweet's line-up is packed already and if I could, I would've, asshole. Because his club damn sure pays better than your fucking shit—

"His line was busy," she lied. A wry grin crossed her lips. Her teeth sank into the interior flesh, when she was gifted with Vinnie's boisterous laugh, a few seconds later. Her fingers tightly gripped the phone while she imagined her hands around the short-portly-fat fuck's neck.

"—hahahahahaha… That's what you get!" he chuckled. He continued to laugh for a few more seconds before the stream of gloating chuckles dwindled. "Alright! Alright! Bring your ass down here within three hours, because I know that you're stuck in Suburbia Hell right now, and you have the spot."

Kaia unleashed a deep sigh of relief and closed her eyes. The tension that was built in her shoulders started to dissipate.

"Now… What do you say, Kaia?" she heard the sleazy manager speak into the phone. She detected the gloating in his tone and it made her skin bristle.

Her top lip snarled. "Thank… You," she groaned.

There was a cocky chortle. "You're welcome," Vegas Vinnie said into his line. "Now, hurry your ass and get down here."

Kaia was met with a sharp clicking noise, which informed her that he disconnected the call. 'Fucking asshole,' her brain uttered.

Once her emotional-straining phone call with Vinnie was rudely disrupted, Kaia slipped out of the comfy confine that was her bed. She proceeded to prepare for her impromptu, dancing gig at the Salome's Quarters Nightclub, in the Old Town section of Gotham City. As she dressed in a frumpy, gray sweat suit, she quietly planned her performance routine. In her brain, she envisioned the spacious parlor section of Salome's Quarters, with its technic-color lights and the fabricated seductive setting. She imagined her five-foot-seven inch frame dancing under a downpour of red lights, on a raised platform and in front of a pole. She imagined seductively swaying to a song that she was introduced to, a few days ago, courtesy of an R&B radio station. She didn't know the entire lyrical content, but she was familiar with the melodic ebbs and flows of the song. She knew enough to know where she wanted to add in a pole trick and a floor routine.

After getting dressed, she gathered some 'club clothes' into a large, black duffel bag, along with an afro wig that was once used as a part of a Halloween costume and other accessories. She checked for the time off of the nightstand clock and realized that she had less than three hours to arrive to the club. "Well, let's get this show on the road," she muttered as she glanced around her bedroom once more. She strolled to the exit and turned off the lights.

---

'People grieve in many different ways, Kiki. She's…She's trying to find her way back to the living, honey…'

Her mother's statement crept back into her mind as she drove her Range Rover down a lit road that was a part of the expressway. An expressway, which would eventually lead her to the Tri-Gate Bridge, the gateway into Gotham City. The statement was a part of a conversation that she had with her mother as they prepared for the repast dinner that followed her brother's funeral service. It was one of the few coherent memories that she remembered from that time. From the moment that she received the news of her brother's murder, up until the night of his funeral, when she sat on her mattress after returning from her parents' house in Gotham, everything was fuzzy for her. Even now, things were still feeling fuzzy and there were time lapses in her memory bank.

'…She's going out and trying to have fun, because it hurts, sweetie. She's not like you. Or-or, like me. We've… Cried and screamed, because that's what we do. Jackie… (Sighs) Just give her time, sweetheart… You'll see.'

"Hmph!" Kaia haughtily huffed as she eyed the road ahead. "It's been three-fuckin'-years already," she muttered. "I doubt this is her 'grieving'… Kyle must've known that she was a… Party-girl. I just need another two-grand and I can get a lawyer and pay for the court fees and I can do what I have to do, for them."

Kaia was working over-time in a few strip clubs that were in Gotham City, for a reason. She wanted to obtain full-guardianship of her nieces, 13 year-old Mia and 10 year-old Alana. She believed that their mother wasn't the safest person to be around. Since her brother's abrupt death, her sister-in-law has shown time and time again that she wasn't equipped to raising her two daughters. She had plenty of examples, which were events that occurred during the past three years. Both of her parents, as well as, herself has received sudden calls from the girls, or from their neighbors, about the children's lack of shelter or their poor welfare. There were calls about the lack of food in their home. There were calls about the lack of electricity and-or about the lack of gas and heating in their apartment, during the winter seasons, over the years. Unintentional and blurted out reports of their despondent mother, after her nights out with her girlfriends and "male friends". Frightful phone calls where sharp, child-like whispers revealed recounts of strange male visitors in their home. Tearful confessions about the lack of presents for their birthdays and Christmases, despite receiving monetary contributions from both grandparents and other relatives.

Plus, the concerned aunt wanted to get her nieces out of the environment that they currently lived in. She might've considered their mother to be unsafe and dangerous. But she definitely believed in the same about Gotham City. As a native from the famous city, she used to think that it was an exciting place to live, when she was a child and as a teenager. It was the place to come to, if a person wanted to attempt to become rich or famous, or both. Then, the allure and the mythology that the city carried began to fade, when she returned to her hometown, after having an unsuccessful career as a professional dancer. Gotham City wasn't the beacon of hope anymore. It was dirty, devious and dangerous, now. She witnessed slivers of the danger, when she began working in the various strip clubs. It was during these moments, when she realized that Gotham City could've been one of the nine circles of Hell. Then, after her brother was killed during a robbery of a grocery store, she was certain that it was definitely one of them.

Her sight swiftly flickered over to the dangling trinket that hung from her rear view mirror by a shoe string. Her eyes glimpsed at the laminated photograph of her brother before she peered out of the windshield again. "I made a promise to your girls, bro… I don't have plans on breaking them."

Kaia arrived to Salome's Quarters Nightclub, in less than two hours, thanks to the light traffic that occurred on the roads. As she approached the façade of the five-storied building that solely housed the nightclub, she noticed the stragglers that loitered the sidewalk. They all displayed various stages of intoxication: from standing up but faltering in their steps to leaning against various sturdy objects to kneeling on the cracked asphalt and attempting to empty their stomachs onto the cement. 'Typical,' her brain muttered before she was permitted entrance in the club.

Being that she has danced in this club since the beginning of her 'career', she knew her way around the scene. She donned a non-scintillating strut as she traveled through the parlor of the first level. Her hearing was attacked by the loud, dance music that were pouring out of every speaker that was inside of the room. Her eyes scanned the clubroom and she assessed the atmosphere. She occasionally made eye contact with several of the club's employees and she gave each person a subtle greeting. There were plenty of customers, but they weren't behaving like typical patrons of Salome's Quarters. They were behaving like they were humans, who weren't raised by tribes of misogynists. 'It's a Sunday night,' her instinct reminded her. 'The ones that you're looking for must be home with their families or at home, getting ready to face the next day.'

She managed to walk across the spacious parlor room's floor without being interrupted and forcibly halted by a patron. She had taken herself to the back of the clubroom, to the dressing room's entrance. The dancers' dressing room held a different atmosphere than the clubroom. Where the clubroom was methodically seductive and darkly-lit, the dressing room was brightly-lit, lively and housed a leisurely attitude. Once past the threshold of dark, wool curtains, she was simultaneously hit by a cacophony of sounds, sights and smells. Her nose picked up several strands of perfume and floral-printed body sprays just as her hearing was flooded with sounds of boisterous chatter and festive background music.

Her eyesight peered into the private chamber and spotted a scene that was familiar, in every club that she worked in. The locker-aligned room was filled with women that were in various states of undressed. They were performing different tasks, from the acts of getting dressed in their outfits to sitting at vanity tables and applying makeup to chatting with each other.

"Girl! I told him that we were…"

"I really don't want to be here tonight. My son is sick with a nasty cold…"

"It looks dead out there…"

"Vinnie asked me to come in tonight because he said that it was going to be live tonight—

"Honey… It's a Sunday night, the only thing that alive in here is us!"

"Hey Kaia!"

'Naomi,' her brain alerted her as she turned her focus on the woman, who was thirty feet away and was waving at her while she sat a vanity table. The seated woman held a relaxed stature and was covered by a blue, silk robe. On her face, she wore a pleasant smile, a feature that was a rare sight in this club. Kaia made her way through the small gatherings of women and she made it over to her friend and colleague. The two women exchanged signs of physical greetings before Kaia squatted down in front of her.

"Oooh, it's so good to see you here, again!" chirped Naomi as she playfully pinched Kaia's left cheek. The toothy grin brought forth the creases around her eye sockets and the corners of her mouth. "I thought that I would never see you here again! How long has it been since your last time?"

A mask of contemplation crossed her face. "Sssix… No. Seven months… It's been seven months since my last time dancing in here," she answered, several seconds later.

A light flooded the older woman's brown eyes. "Oh yeah! That's right!" she crooned. "That was the night when…" Naomi leaned forward. Her pink-tinted lips whispered, "… The Joker and his goons came in here".

A remembrance of that night filled her mind. In particular, the moment when she discovered several pairs of eyes that belonged to the Joker's 'employees' on her, as she danced on a side stage. At the time, she was hanging upside-down with her shins, ankles and feet tightly gripping the pole. Under normal circumstances, she would've preferred customers' attentions on her, ever since it eventually translated into more tips and the odds of being picked for private dances were in her favor. But, these men were members of The Joker's posse. It was bad news, for Kaia. Very-very bad news. The last thing that she wanted was to be on any of his members' radars. She knew that these monsters weren't men that wanted to get to know her and sweep her off of her feet, by committing grand romantic gestures. These men were savages and killers. They didn't have hearts or empathy for the women that worked out of these clubs. If they were interested in her, then it was more about sex. Being a gangster's moll wasn't the plan for her. Living in posh penthouse, draped in diamonds and furs while being arm-candy for a thug, wasn't a part of their plan for her. No. Their intended plans usually included a brusque conversation, a possible offer to take drugs and have a rut inside of the nearest restroom or the backseat of a vehicle, whether if the act was consensual or not. And this was the 'harmless and safe' version of their plans. The most dangerous version involved a drugged drink and a forced participation into the world of sex-trafficking.

The dancer knew this much about the sinister side of the game, even though she has never interacted with a member of Gotham City's crime-world. With the exception of the minor criminal-affiliates like Vegas Vinnie, his brother David and the owner of The Candy House, Sweets Daniels.

So, after her routine was over, Kaia made her way back into the dressing room, put her clothes back on and abruptly ended her shift. Before she left the building, she gave David a lie about contracting her period, along with a case of menstrual cramps. For a few days after that night, she made sure that she locked all of her house's doors and set her security system at night.

"Ugh… Yeah," groaned Kaia, as she returned to reality from her trip down memory lane.

"So…" Naomi placed an affectionate hand on Kaia's left shoulder. "…how have you been since the last time I saw you? How are your nieces?"

"I've been fine…" Kaia noticed the vanity table, which was behind her, become available. "…I've been doing okay. I…" She lifted up from her squatting stance and she took two backward steps before she sat down, on the chair that was waiting behind her. "…been alright. I just finish with the repairs to my house," she reported.

"So you still live upstate in Yayaya—

"Yakonkwe Falls, Naomi," giggled Kaia, while correcting her friend. She nodded her head. "Yeah, I still live up there." She placed her duffel bag on the carpeted floor. "I love it up there. It's quiet… And safe, up there. My neighbors are cool. It's the kind of place where you would want to raise a fam—

"LOOK AT WHAT THE CAT HAD DRAGGED IN!"

The shouted statement drowned out Kaia's voice. 'What-the-hell…' Her focus turned into the direction in which the raised call had come from. It had come from one of the fellow dancers. She was standing in front of a locker. She was in the process of getting dressed. She was bare-chested with her black bikini top half-way applied. Her face held a look of joy and smugness. Her attention was aimed in the direction of the room's entrance. Kaia feet skittered across the floor just as she turned in her seat. She quickly detected the fact that everyone's focus was aimed in a different direction. Her sight finally landed on the person that captured just about every one's attention.

It was a woman, another dancer. She was in a state of disheveled. Her once-immaculate and strategically-adorned makeup was now smeared on her tanned, freckled face. Her crimson-colored lipstick was smeared across her chin and cheeks. The crafty knot that once-styled her ombre, blonde-and-black hair was off-kilter, leaving locks of her hair limply hanging around her face and temples. Her right hand held onto the ankle straps of her neon-green, platform high heels. She gripped a limp, neon-green top in her left hand. Her matching-colored, midi-styled skirt was rumpled and the left side was tucked into the elastic waistband. Her bare breasts were discolored with blots of burgundy tint, as well as, her biceps. Her bleary eyes were focused on the shouter.

"What's the matter, Lyra?! Your mouth and your hands couldn't handle all of those dicks, huh?!" the shouter called out before her natural-husky voice dissolved into a fit of chuckles. A lightly-tanned hand ran through her waist-length, frosty blonde hair.

"Fuck you, alright!" sneered the disheveled woman. She had taken a few steps away from the dressing room's entrance. Her eyes were still focused on her harasser.

"No thank you. I'm sure that wretched hole that you call a pussy has had enough damage done to it for tonight. So… How was Maroni's boys, anyway? Did they pay upfront or did you get ripped off like the last time?" The woman leaned against the locker's door, causing her right hip to jut out and her thin body to appear curvier. She clucked her teeth. "I don't think Vinnie is going to like that, after all, he won't see his cut. Not unless you plan on…" Her right hand proceeded to make a jerking motion. "…sucking him off like the last time," jibed the shouter.

The tension that was inside of the room suddenly snapped at the abrasive sound of shoes striking the floor.

"You fucking bitch!" shouted Lyra as her face held an expression of anger. "You…" The woman suddenly lunged forward and her thin body made several steps into the shouter's direction. Several bodies made sudden dismissals from out of her pathway. "…can't say shit…"

There was a flash of red and pale blue, suddenly. Her journey was abruptly disrupted, when a woman stood in the space between the two women, blocking Lyra's attempt at physically confronting the other. She was a freckle-decorated woman with shoulder-length red hair and an elaborately-designed, pale blue monokini.

"…I have thin—

"Lyra! Stop it!" the bikini-clad woman that stood in front of her, commanded her. When her command was ignored, she placed her hands on Lyra's shoulders. "LYRA!" she shouted into the writhing woman's face. The call managed to cut through the woman's psyche. Lyra stopped. Her blue eyes focused on her captor. "Go and get cleaned up," the woman ordered. When Lyra didn't respond fast enough, she received a nudge into the opposite direction. "Go," the unnamed woman said in a firm but softer tone.

Kaia watched Lyra's eyes land on the woman that initiated the tense moment.

"Gooo, Lyra! Go and get cleaned up!" the woman commanded. The woman had taken a few steps into her personal bubble. "She is not worth…" She proceeded to mumble the rest of her statement.

Kaia glimpsed at Naomi from over her right shoulder. Her friend simply gave her a shrug and a wry smile. She turned back to the scene. She watched Lyra walked away from the woman and into the direction in which the bathroom was located. The frantic energy immediately began to fade. She focused on the mediator who de-escalated the hectic incident. The woman, a statuesque red-head, turned her attention to the shit-starter that hung out by the locker.

"What?" the woman lightly giggled as she shrugged her shoulder. When the woman didn't respond, she repeated her question. "…What? What did I do?" she chuckled. "V, why are looking at me—

"I really should have Vinnie and David toss your trouble-making ass out of this club," the mediator, who was now known as 'V', stated.

"What?" the woman, once again, chuckled. But this time, Kaia could feel the sense of nervousness come from her. "What did I do? I was just…" Her fine features frowned up. "…stating the obvious, when she came in."

"Ahhh, no," the redhead sarcastically sighed while shaking her head. "What you were doing…" V made four steps into the woman's direction. "…was trying to embarrass your competition, that's what you were attempting to do," the woman pointed out.

There were a few "ooh's", snickers and whistles of astonishment floating in the air. Kaia eyed the nameless woman. She was now standing upright and she held her top close to her bosom. Her arrogance was gone and its place was insecurity. She focused on the ruby-haired woman, once again. Besides her sense of annoyance, V also exuded power and control. It was as if she wielded all of the responsibility and control for the nightclub.

"You're acting as if it wasn't you that was holed-up in the President's Suite with Maroni, just last month… Or, the one that was 'entertaining' those soldiers and sailors, in the billiards room, just last week!" V stood a few inches in front of the topless woman. Her green-hazel eyes still bore the intense gaze. "So, I advise you to stop acting as if your pussy is some pristine chamber that has never been seen by a man and not the…Wretched hole that it is," V informed her.

"Well…Damn," another dancer hissed out, in marvel. A steam of giggling from another dancer had followed.

"I also advise for you to focus on your own hustle and not on the next woman's," the seasoned dancer reported.

The look of insecurity escaped the woman's face. An expression of offense became its replacement. Her brow crumpled and she glowered at V. "You don't know—

"I advise you to think long and hard about the next statement that you're about to say…" V said in creepily-calm tone. "…because depending on what comes out of your mouth… It could cause you to find yourself laying in a dumpster…And, in a field… Underneath the Tri-Gate Bridge… In your kids' schoolyard. In a cardboard box that will be placed on your mother's doorstep…" Her eyes narrowed while a soft smile appeared. "…You get the idea."

The tension returned to the dressing room and it caused Kaia's stomach to rumble and her jaw's joints to tighten up. Her dark brown orbs continued to spy on the two women. 'And this is why I hate working out of this place,' she concluded. 'All of the damn murder-innuendos and the threats of violence.'

The trouble-maker's jaw was now slacked and her eyes were slightly wide. She laid out her sense of fear for everyone to view. V, on the other hand, still kept the expression of contentment on her face.

"Now… What is it that you have to say to me?" the mysterious and intimidating V said softly to the woman that stood in front of her.

"I…I… I-I-I-I… You-You don't know what I-I-I do," the woman proclaimed. "I-I-I w-work just as hard you do…"

"I am Vinnie's and David's eyes and ears in this club," V informed her. "I know about everything that happens in this club. I know about which girl shakes her tits and ass and I know which girl sucks and fucks for a fee. It's my job. It's what I am being paid to do here. So… I advise you to cut-the-shit and stop thinking that you're high and mighty, because you ain't no different than the rest of us. We're all here doing something that is consider sacrilege on Sunday night." She gave the woman a silent glance for a few seconds before she pulled back. V took a glimpse at the left side of the room before returning her gaze to the woman. "Get dressed," she curtly ordered. "There needs to be more girls out there and you don't want Vinnie to come in here and start issuing orders," she warned. She pulled away and turned towards the wall that contained the bathroom and the exit. "Ladies, show's over! Go about your business!" she announced to the room's occupants.

V's voice served as a switch for the mounting tension and awkwardness that was inside of the room. It sliced and cut away at the negative energy. The once-silent and dead room was resurrected. The walls became decorated with multiple voices.

Kaia turned away and faced Naomi. The woman clucked her teeth and gave a sideways glance towards the vanity table's mirror. Then an all-knowing smile graced her face. "You know how it is, around here," the older woman simply stated.

The younger woman mirthlessly chuckled. "Well, thank goodness no one sees me as 'competition' while I'm here. I can imagine the back-stabbing and the bullying that would happen to me, here. I get enough of that shit, when I am over at The Candy Shop," she pointed out. She listened to Naomi's laughter. She grabbed the edge of the chair's seat and pushed herself closer to the table's edge. Then she reached down and grabbed for her duffle bag.

"So, how's the girls?" asked Naomi.

"They're fine," answered Kaia as she perused the contents of her bag. "They're the reason why I am here tonight."

"Why?! What happened?!" her friend said, feeling alarmed.

Kaia's brown eyes focused on the mirror and she stared at Naomi's reflection. "Their mother…" She watched a look of enlightenment cross her friend's face. She returned her gaze back to her bag. "…Their electricity is off and Jackie doesn't have the money to turn it back on. I figured, that I could work tonight and get some extra cash, so I could go to Gotham Electric and have their lights turn back on, tomorrow morning before heading back up to Yakonkwe."

"What kind of mother would let their lights get shut off and don't ask for any help?" Naomi wondered out loud.

"The same kind, who is planning on hitting the clubs tonight and leaving her kids with the neighbors… Or, home alone," Kaia wryly explained.

"Oh my goodness… Well, I pray that she hopes that no one knows that those girls are by themselves tonight," her friend pointed out. "Have you… Or your parents, at least, thought about taking those girls off of your sister-in-law's hands until she gets back on her feet?"

"That's…" She paused. Her plump lips pursed up. Her eyes performed a sideway glance at her friend. "That's what I am trying to do…" Her mind began to fill with imaginary scenarios of her nieces being in her custody. The sounds of their phantom laughter filled her ears. "…Naomi, I am going to file for custody of the girls…"

"Really, Kaia?" Naomi delightfully squealed, with a wide smile on her face.

"…I just need to save up more money, so I could buy a decent lawyer and pay for whatever court fees that I need to pay for. I've already paid a 'P.I.' kind of guy to perform a background check on Jackie and he's been having her followed, for the past six weeks. That, costed me a pretty penny. But, it's worth it." She gave her friend a glimpse.

"How do your parents feel about it?"

"They… They don't know," she confessed. "I haven't told them yet. I have a feeling that my mom won't be too happy about it. My ma thinks that Jackie is still grieving over my brother. She's going to be pissed, when she finds out. But, I think she will come around. My dad? I know that he's going to be relieved, but he is going to keep it to himself, for my mom's sake. But, I would still do this with, or without, their approval."

Naomi gave her a slight pat on the shoulder. "Good for you, Kaia."

The personal bubble between the two of them was disrupted, when another dancer approached Kaia's left side. Both women stared at the interloper as she bent down and stared at her reflection.

"Can you believe that bullshit that just gone on between V and Georgia?" the woman asked the two women, as she applied a coat of lip gloss of her top lip and totally oblivious of the fact that she interrupted the conversation. "Georgia, over there, acting like she has never gotten down in the Presidential Suite… V's right: none of us are saints around here. I may not do tricks, but I know that my hands ain't exactly clean…" Her aqua-blue eyes peered at Naomi and Kaia. "…Hell," she chuckled. "There were times when I would give lap-dances to some sexy-ass men and I would want to just… 'Accidentally' unbuckle their pants and…" Her hands dramatically raised up. "…just…" A soft, exaggerated frown touched her face. "…accidentally have their dicks inside of me…"

Naomi's and Kaia's laughter drowned out the rest of the woman's words.

The woman chuckled. "I'm sure that I'm not the only one that has thought about…" Her shoulders performed a shimmy. "…You know. Or… At least, had come all over a guy's lap, by accident. After all," Her fingertip wiped the excess gloss from off of her bottom lip. "We do dance without our bottoms on in this club. Sometimes… Accidents do happen." A smile crossed her face. "And if the guy is sexy?" A sly smile appeared. "There's no complaints on my behalf." She turned away from the mirror and glanced at each woman. "Have it happened to you?"

Naomi chuckled. "Once…" A mischievous grin grew on her lips. "…Or, eight times," she answered. There was a smattering of laughter. "In my case, some of the men were attractive and the others… Weren't. They just so happened to catch me at a really good time."

Eyes had dropped their focus on Kaia, who simply shook her head. "Nah, it has never happened to me, fortunately…" She gave each woman a glance. "…Or unfortunately, depending on whose listening." The trio of women laughed. "I've given some men lap-dances, who were some sexy motherfuckers. That is, until they opened their mouths and proceeded to spit bullshit during the dances. Some of them acted like they were big shots, who could move mountains and squeeze water from stones. Then there were the others, who acted like I needed to perform acrobatics and magic tricks, because they were giving me twenty-fucking-dollars for a five-minute dance." Both women hummed in agreement. She glanced into her bag. 'Lemme go and get ready,' her conscience told her. She glanced at her reflection. "I'm going to get ready."

---

After changing into her "costume" which garnered a few curious glances from the other dancers and a hearty chuckle from Naomi, Kaia applied some makeup to her face, completing her look for the night. With a wish of a good night aimed at her back, by Naomi, she left the dressing room to go into the clubroom. Now, dressed in a curve-hugging, floor-length sequined dress and six-inched platform heels, she sauntered into the club's parlor. She stood in the back of the club's room and she surveyed the area. She quickly figured out that there were more patrons since her arrival. The chilled and relaxed nature had diminished and was replaced with jovial breed of rowdiness from the customers. They cheered and made celebratory yelps to the performing dancers that were on the main stage and the small, circular stages that were off to the sides of the parlor.

"KAIA!"

She recognized the voice and she refrained from rolling her eyes. 'Vinnie,' she groaned quietly. She peeled her attention away from the scene and she turned her left. She came face-to-face with the short-statured, five-foot-six-inch man known as 'Vegas Vinnie'. She quickly eyed his choice in clothing and she bit into her bottom lip to keep from laughing. He was still living up to his 'Vegas high-roller' persona with the gaudy, silk shirt and the mismatched, tailored suit. His naturally-curly hair was brushed away from his receding hairline and gelled down with a shiny hair pomade. On his short and fat neck, hung three gold chains. She watched the club's manager perform his wobble-walk over to her.

"Kaia!" Vinnie announced as soon as he was close. "Kaia-Kaia-Kaia…"

'Oh Lord, what does he want from me now,' she internally groaned.

His hot-tempered hands grabbed at her biceps. "… Honey. Baby. I need for you to take over the west stage, once Cassidy is finish up there…" His stubby, left index finger pointed over to the side stage that was on the right side of the room…"

Kaia eyed the stage in question. It was the raised platform that was a twenty feet away from the dancers' dressing room. It was also several feet in front of a trio of semi-circular booths and the mirrored wall that was behind the seating arrangements. The dancer was familiar with the west stage. It was in the area of the club that was far away from the popular section of the club. Due to its low lighting and its distance from the bar, none of the customers loitered in that area. The 'West Stage' was the glorified pedestal that held the reputation for being the place where the amateur dancers performed on, as well as, the stage in which the non-popular dancers were delegated to.

Both David and Vinnie always assigned her to this stage or to the twin-stage that was on the other side of the room. Both brothers had never given her a spot on the center stage, which was called 'the main stage'. They believed that she wasn't a dancer that would generate a high amount of revenue while being on there, despite being considered 'sexy' and 'passionate' dancer by David. Most of their well-paying clients preferred dancers that possessed certain physical looks. She was hired as a part-time and freelanced dancer, because she 'had a look' that some of their customers would've enjoyed. When the two of them explained it to her, David was the brother who shown care and concern with his explanation while Vinnie, on the other hand, didn't mince his words.

She returned her stare to Vinnie. She nodded her head. "Okay," she mouthed.

"…You know what to do: dance around for two songs and show the goods on the third song. Afterwards, you can take a break and freshen up and I want you to return—

"And mingle with the customers and ask them for dances," she filled in the blanks.

"Ex-zactly!" Vinnie declared with a flick of his index finger. "If you happen to get a Presidential Suite, then you should know that I get a twenty-percent cut, off of your fee. Now…" A mask of seriousness covered his face. "…if you and the guy wants to… Have some more fun, then my cut becomes higher. I'll take forty-percent from then on. You got me?"

The notion that she would have sex with a customer, in a room that was the size of largest walk-in closet of her home, made her skin crawl. Then there was the anger that she felt, when she acknowledged the fact that Vinnie wanted to take close to half of her profits, if she would've fucked her customer. 'Unless his ass is on his knees, sucking on those guys' balls, then he shouldn't expect close to fucking half!' Rather than express her grievance, Kaia grinned and gave a head nod.

"Alright, now that we're clear, go and tell Tony what you want to hear for your third song and then wait for Cassidy to end," the manager ordered.

Kaia nodded once again. She proceeded to walk away from Vinnie.

"Kaia!"

She stopped walking and glanced over her right shoulder, at Vinnie. She watched him raise his hands over his head and pat the air that was in between his palms and the top of his head.

"I love the afro! Reminds me of Pam Grier, back in the 1970s!" he shouted into the air.

She once again nodded her head and she turned away. She traveled through the parlor and trekked over to the deejay's booth. Once she gave the deejay her choice of song, she made her way over to the west side of the clubroom. Her eyes glanced at the woman that currently occupied the circular platform that was raised three feet off of the carpeted floor. She was in the process of pirouetting around the copper-colored pole, making the flared bottom of her skirt float in the air. Kaia traveled over to the space that was in between the last booth and the wall that held the entrance to the dressing room. She settled on a spot and she resumed watching Cassidy the dancer. The dancing woman was in the middle of her first song, judging by the fact that she still was wearing her outfit.

As Kaia played the role of spectator for the performance that was unraveling before her, she allowed her mind to wander off. Her nieces' faces were the first images to pop up in her head. The woman began to think about her impending plans, when it came to attempting to gain custody of the two girls. She knew that there was a chance that Jackie would protest the action and end up fighting, with her own attorney. If this possible custody battle was anything like the ones that were shown in films and television programs, she knew that she really needed to clean up whatever mess that she managed to accumulate, over the years. Kaia was aware of one prominent 'mess': her current profession. She was aware that any respectable judge would hold her job as a stripper as a character flaw and a possible risk to her nieces' well-being.

She recalled her last efforts at searching for a 'respectable' job. She searched through the classifieds of every newspaper that she could get her hands on and she applied for any position that didn't require much job experience. So far, she had gone on three job interviews. Each interview was for a job that didn't hold any requirements and provided "on the sight" training. Each occupation was retail, food-service related, which were jobs that she didn't want, but she expected to come into her crosshairs. She was willing to swallow her pride and accept a job as a short-order cook, a waitress or as a cashier in a bakery. If working an eight-hour, minimum-wage gig gave her a better chance to obtain full-custodial rights to her nieces, then she would work the position. '…Besides, I have a nest egg saved up and some other 'emergency' money stashed away. Without the stripping, it's going to be tough. Just as long as the house doesn't need any more major repairs, I'll be good. I have enough to keep us afloat and together. I'll work a job, fight for custody and I'll probably go to school during that time. Maybe go to cosmetology school and learn to be become a—

"ALRIGHT GENTLEMEN, PLEASE GIVE THESE LOVELY LADIES A ROUND OF APPLAUSE!" the deejay announced from his station.

His voice pulled Kaia from her thoughts and she gently shook her mind free from the self-imposed fog. She took in the atmosphere.

"…Please thank Miss Lola and Miss Cassidy, who entertain y'all on the side stages!"

Her hearing picked up the sounds of applause and cheers from the men that were enjoying themselves inside of the nightclub.

"Last, but least, please give a warm round of applause… Cheers… And, tips, to the sexy and gorgeous Miss Delilah that just graced our main stage!"

The waves of applause had become louder in volume. Movement captured her peripheral view's attention. She turned her full focus to the center stage's runway. She spotted the dancer, Delilah, kneeling on the stage and picking up her tips that were littered on the stage's floor. The top of her flaxen hair-covered head repetitively bobbed up and down as she silently thanked the men that lined the stage's sidelines.

"We'll give Miss Delilah a few more seconds to pick up her tips. Meanwhile, fellas, lemme tell you something. If you see a woman that captures your eyes and you want to get to know her a little better and put a smile on her face, then you need to ask for a private dance in our Private Chamber rooms. For only twenty dollars, you can have one of the lovely ladies here at Salome's Quarters dance for you, for a song. A personal dance, just for you. But if a song isn't quite enough, then you can spend some time with your lady of choice in one of our Presidential Suites, here in Salome's Quarters. For two-hundred and twenty-five dollars, you'll receive one hour with a gorgeous lady, along with a complimentary bottle of champagne…"

Kaia eyed the west stage and noticed Cassidy stepping down from the smaller stage. 'Oh, time to go,' she alerted herself. Her fingers gathered up a few inches of her sequined gown from off of the floor and then proceeded to walk over to the stage.

"…Alright Miss Delilah. Please give her one more round of applause as she leaves the stage, fellas!" There was more applause. "Gentlemen, also give it up for our next set of dancers that will be gracing all three stages! On the east and west stage, we have the lovely Brittany and the sensual Miss Dahlia-Jayne!"

The volume for the music that circulated throughout the parlor room, increased. Kaia was able to hear the men's jubilant cheers for a few milliseconds before they were drowned out by the music's rising volume. Her right foot took the first step onto the first stair that led up to the platform. Her hearing picked up the familiar 1970s Soul classic that was playing.

"Now, the next featured dancer coming to our main stage is quite the favorite here, at Salome's Quarters! Welcome to the stage… JOOOOYYYY!" the deejay screamed into his microphone.

Kaia's eyes performed a brief glimpse at the center stage. She viewed another diminutive and curvaceous blonde-haired woman emerged from behind the burgundy curtains. She strutted onto the stage and towards the main stage's catwalk, when Kaia decided to focus on her routine. Once her right hand gripped onto the pole, she tuned out the club's energetic atmosphere and solely focused on Barry White's voice and the stage.

The formally-trained dancer lost herself in the music and danced around the circular stage. As she listened to the late soul singer sing about never giving up on his lady-love, she moved seductively around the structure that was imbedded in the middle of the stage. Occasionally her body performed an elaborate spin and turn by using the pole. Her hearing did pick up an appreciative yelp, every once in a while.

Towards the end of the song, during the last chorus, her fingers reached behind her neck and found the metal clasp that kept up the halter-top of her dress. Her fingertips expertly unlatched the clasp. Her hands allowed the straps of her top to tease and tantalize her skin as she drew them down to her breasts. Her vision was aimed in the direction of the first booth, which was in a darkened corner. She knew that no one was over there, but she imagined there was someone sitting in there and watching her. Her fingers pushed the halter down to her full hips. She body-rolled against the pole and then undulated her hips as she pushed the dress down her shapely legs. She stood straight and allowed the dress to pool at her ankles and feet. Her left foot stepped out of the dress and then the right foot politely kicked the dress off of the stage. Now, adorned in a black ankle-length, silk midi skirt that held hip-length slits and a black lingerie underneath, she cheerily made her way to the pole. As the first song segue into the second song, Kaia performed a detailed spin around the pole and landed into a full-split onto the stage, to start off an exciting performance. She heard a few whimpers of awe from the audience section.

During this performance to an electronic dance song from the 1990's, she danced but she paid more attention to the audience members. Plenty of eye contact and a few smiles were tossed to them. Her routine mainly focused on floor-work. Her pear-shaped figure performed seductive writhing and hip rolls. Her long legs performed fan kicks as she was bathed in various colored lights. She even lost a little more reservation and twerked a little, much to the delight of a few customers and her fellow co-workers. She was even given a short, "Dollar Shower" by a fellow dancer, who stood by the stage. Sensing the end of the song was near, she lost the transparent skirt and elegantly disposed the clothing to the side of the stage.

Now clad in a bra, a G-string and her tattoos, she approached the beam that was in the center of the stage. She used her upper body's strength to climb the pole. She trekked up to the top of the pole, where she was gently nudge by the lights' poles and the low ceiling. It was dark in her current location. She scanned the entire floor from her high perch. Movement danced across the bottom eyelid that belonged to her right eye. She slightly turned her head and came upon a tiny dancing orb of fire. 'Lighter,' her brain informed her. Then she realized that she was staring into the darkened corner that was the first booth's location. Apparently, there was someone sitting over there. A wave of coldness brushed against her heated, brown skin while her cheeks blushed. A twinge of embarrassment tickled at her spirit.

Before she could reluctantly embrace the full feeling of shame, she became distracted when her hearing picked up the song shift. 'Oh, my song!' Her thighs tightened around the pole while her stomach was subjected with fluttering, due to the excitement.

"Six inch heels…"

Kaia's thighs released their taut hold on the pole and she allowed herself to drop down the pole. Her landing was formed into a full-split. The lights simmered down to a deep shade of red, making her skin appear as black as an onyx stone.

"…she walked in the club like nobody's business…"

She leaned her upper body backwards and came to rest her elbows and forearms against the stage.

"…Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness…"

She leveled an immodest glare into the darkened booth. Kaia wanted the mysterious, smoking patron to have his eyes on her as she danced. The idea of having a mystery admirer caused a thrill to burrow itself into her spirit.

"…She's stacking money, money everywhere she goes. You know, pesos out of Mexico…"

She drew her legs to the front of her and she lifted her shoe-clad feet into the air. She teasingly rolled her ankles thrice before she bent her knees and drew invisible circles with the soles of her shoes. Her lower body seductively writhed against the floor.

"…De uno, commas and them decimals
She don't gotta give it up, she professional…"

Her legs snapped opened and the toes of her shoes slapped the sections of the stage that were beside her ears. A pair of clacking sounds erupted in her ears and then again, when she clapped her feet together as they were raised in the air. She lifted off of the floor and grabbed the pole.

"…She mixing up that Ace with that Hennessy
She love the way it tastes, that's her recipe
Rushing through her veins like it's ecstasy, oh no…"

As Kaia danced against the brass pole, she kept her focal point on the shadowed corner that was a few yards in front of her. Occasionally, her eyes would spot that tiny ball of orange light, letting her know that her sole, direct audience member was still there.

"…she worth every minute
She works for the money
She works for the money…"

She pressed the back of her neck against the warm pole and she jutted her hips forward. Her fingers reached behind her and her nails sought after the knot in her bikini top's halter.

"…She stack her money, money everywhere she goes…"

She loosed the taut strings and her left hand slipped around, behind her back. Her fingers deftly untied the knot that kept the bottom half of her top snug against her waist. Once the top became loose on her, the right hand snatched up the material. She allowed the soft material to caress her skin, starting from her pierced nipples and ending at that strip of sensitive skin that was above the waistband of her bikini bottoms. The tingles of pleasure that kissed at her flesh caused her to lightly moan. Her left forearm draped across her bust, hiding her from his view. Her right hand gripped the pole, right above her head. She expertly twisted around and turned her back to him. 'Not yet,' she delightfully teased.

"…She got that Sake, her Yamazaki straight from Tokyo
Oh baby you know…"

Her hands lightly gripped the pole and she swayed her hips to the music.

"…she got them commas and them decimals
She don't gotta give it up cause she professional

Six inch heels, she walked in the club like nobody's business
Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness

She works for the money, she work for the money
From the start to the finish
And she worth every dollar, she worth every dollar
And she worth every minute…"

She tried to ignore the pleasurable stabbing sensation that kept erupting in each of her hardened nipples as the stainless barbells kept striking the pole. The sensations traveled from her breasts and sank down to the spot right below her navel, where it morphed into pressure. The kind of pressure that could be only pleased by touch. The notion of pleasuring herself on the stage crossed her mind and caused her to genuinely chuckle. She twirled in a circle and faced the pole, once again. 'That's what Vinnie needs… Me, getting myself off,' she mused.

"…Stars in her eyes
She fights for the power, keeping time…"

She recognized this part in the tune. It was about to crescendo into the final chords and notes. 'Song's 'bout to end,' she reminded herself. 'Let's give the man what he wants.' She released the pole and spun around. The back of her head, neck and the space that was in between her shoulder blades were pressed against the pole. Her eyes focused on the corner and at her shadowed admirer. A teasing smile eclipsed her lips just as her fingertips reached for her bejeweled nipples. A pair of pinches were applied to her sensitive nubs and there were gentle tugs. She performed a series of full body-rolls as she drifted into the path of the stage's floor.

"…She grinds day and night
She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
She gon' slang
She too smart to crave material things
She pushing herself day and night…"

Once her plush bottom struck the cold floor, she drew her legs apart and revealed her cloth-covered center.

"…She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday
Oh, stars in her eyes…"

Her right hand released the pole and slithered down to the curve of her neck…

"…She fights and she sweats those sleepless nights…"

To her collarbone…

"…But she don't mind, she loves the grind…"

To her right mound, where her fingertips playfully flicked at the dangling metal adornment…

"…She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday…"

…Her hand cupped the heavy tit and gave a firm squeeze, causing a gratifying ripple to rip through her upper body. Her back instinctually arched and her parted lips allowed a sigh to escape…

"…Yeah, yeah, she gon' slang
Too smart to crave material things…"

…Her fingers released the mound and drifted down to her stomach, where her fingers were splayed across her quivering skin…

…Her appendage crawled downwards to her navel…

"…Stacking her paper
Stacking her cake up …"

…The tip to her middle finger traced the smooth rim of the scar tissue. Ticklish waves nipped at her lower belly. Light and airy laughs fell from her smiling lips…

"…She grinds from Monday to Friday
Works from Friday to Sunday…"

Her stilettos scraped across the floor as her feet spread further apart…

"…Six inch heels, she walked in the club like nobody's business
Goddamn, she murdered everybody and I was her witness…"

Fingertips traced the edge of the string that kept her G-string bottoms on her hips…

"…She works for the money, she works for the money
From the start to the finish…"

The small teasing smile turned into a full-blown smile. The lusty light in her eyes grew…

"…And she worth every dollar, she worth every dollar

And she worth every minute…"

Her right set of her fingers slipped underneath the thin layer of fabric. Her fingers grazed the slight stubble that covered her mons. The manicured, smooth edge of her middle fingernail made an accidental swipe at the metal barbell that belonged to her piercing. The curved, thin metal bar twitched and grazed against the thin layer of skin that covered her clit. A soft moan escaped her as a ripple of pleasure exploded in her sex…

"…You always come back to me
Come back, come back
Come back, come back…"

Her fingernails lightly scraped against her skin as it drawn back, out of her drawstring, G-String. Her eyes watched the tiny orb of light appear again.

"…Come back—

"ALRIGHT! GENTLEMEN, PLEASE GIVE…"

Tony's voice suddenly cut through the dense fog that was featured in Kaia's mind. Reality and knowledge seeped into her consciousness. Instinctually, she pulled away from the pole and sat upright. Her legs closed. Her eyes scanned the clubroom just as the lights became a little brighter. Her vision performed a grand and quick sweep of the room. The parlor was alive with exciting energy as the customers released applause and praise. Patrons were either eying the main stage or the east stage. There was a smattering of guests who were giving standing ovations to the nude performers.

"…IT UP FOR THE BEAUTIFUL AND SEXY LADIES THAT JUST PERFORMED AND ENTERTAINED Y'ALL…"

Her eyes flickered over to the shadowed corner of the room, where the first arching booth was stationed. The veil of shadow was slightly lifted off of the booth. She was able to view the square-shaped table and the burgundy leather of the unoccupied seating. Then, there was the arm and the sliver of a lower torso that came into view. The arm and torso was covered by a layer of thick, battered brown leather. It was a thick, winter coat. She found it to be odd, ever since they were going through a gentle Autumn, currently.

"…MISS DAHLIA-JAYNE ON THE WEST STAGE!"

Kaia listened to the wave of applause that managed to weave itself into the gaps if silence that permeated through the music's chords and notes.

"…THE GORGEOUS AND SEXY BRITTANY, ON THE EAST STAGE! AND ALSO GIVE IT UP FOR THE VIVACIOUS JOY ON THE MAIN STAGE!" the deejay enthusiastically broadcasted over his microphone.

She suddenly looked away from the darkened corner and she glanced at the stage's floor, at the sheet of tips. She slipped into a kneeling position and proceeded to gather the paper currency into a neat pile. Her sight performed a surveillance over the money and swiftly assessed that she didn't collect over one-hundred dollars. 'Damn it,' she silently cursed as she faced with a twinge of disappointment. 'That means, that I have to really hustle for lap dances tonight,' she figured. Her eyes glimpsed into the busy section of the clubroom. Her eyes took note of the scantily-clad dancers that walked through the parlor. 'Looks like I picked the wrong night to dance here,' she concluded as her vision danced from the various fair-skinned women. 'Maybe I can… There's some money in my savings that I can take…' Once she gathered her tips, she climbed down the stage and picked up her discarded clothes. As she snatched her sequined dress, her sight landed on the darkened corner once more. She felt rays of mild warmth touch her. She knew that he was still sitting there.

"COMING TO THE EAST AND WEST STAGES…"

Kaia snipped at the lure that kept snagging her attention and making her focus on that one booth. 'Stop dicking around and go change,' her conscience urged. She stood upright and she made her return trip to the dressing room. As she entered the room, she was met by Naomi, who was on her way out.

"Hey hon, what's the forecast, out there?" Naomi asked with interest.

Kaia knew exactly what she was talking about. She clucked her teeth and her head did a tilt to the left. "Eighty-percent chance of blonde with a small chance of brunette," she reported.

Naomi's face frowned up. "Ughhh," she groaned.

"Don't worry, Naomi. You'll have a better chance than me, out there. Just be…" Kaia's right hand reached out and gave her friend's collar a playful tug. "…your-beautiful-self and you'll be swimming in faded Drakkar Noir, bad jokes and twenties," she jested.

Naomi chuckled and then cupped Kaia's left cheek. "Thanks a bunch, sweetheart," she giggled. The two women parted. "So, I'm going to see you out there?" she asked as she made steps towards the dressing room's exit.

Kaia nodded. "Yeah! Lemme just get dressed! I should be out in twenty minutes," she informed her friend.

"Alright." Naomi turned away and strolled out of the room.

"Okay," she announced to her friend's retreating back. She turned away from the exit and scanned the nearly-emptied dressing room. 'Vinnie must've came in here and shoo'ed them all outside,' she deducted. She traveled deeper into the spacious room and traveled to her temporary, assigned locker. She fetched her duffel bag and traveled to the wall with the vanity tables. After finding a clean spot, she proceeded to prepare for the rest of her night. She pulled out another floor-length dress and an eye-catching bikini. She sat down and peeled off her tall heels. She looked into her bag to search for her toiletries, when she heard footsteps enter the dressing room. She assumed that it was another dancer.

"Ummm…Dahlia-Jayne?" said a soft and feminine-sounding voice, seconds later. The owner sounded as if she didn't know if she approached the right person.

Kaia looked away from her bag and glanced at the woman, who stood a few feet away from her. She quickly gathered that the woman was either a bartender for the club or a server. She looked too innocent and less cynical, unlike the dancers, according to Kaia. She was too damn small and harmless to be a bouncer. Plus, she was wearing the server's uniform of a black miniskirt and a tight, black short-sleeved shirt, with the club's logo printed on the front. On her face, she held a look of confusion. "Yes?" Kaia said with a smirk.

The woman unleashed a deep sigh of relief and her face released the tense hold. "Oh thank God, I was right," she said in a huff. She released a stream of giggles. "Vinnie has been yelling at us all night and threatening to fire us, if we did something wrong. I was worried, if I—

"Just ignore him, honey," Kaia reported. "He's just the manager of the club. The one that you have to worry about is David. He makes the decisions like that, around here."

The woman's eyes widened and a look of enlightenment highlighted her face. "Oh! Okay…Thank you for telling me that!" she sighed.

"But, don't get on Vinnie's bad side, though. He'll treat you like shit until you'll end up quitting, out of frustration," Kaia added on. "And… You're welcome."

"Thank you, once again" the woman repeated.

"So… How can I help you, hon?" queried Kaia.

"Right!" the server yelped. She nodded her head as she remembered her purpose for the visit. "I'm here to tell you that there's a guy waiting for you in a Presidential Suite," she reported.

Dark brown eyes widened as a pair of lips parted. 'What?' her brain whimpered as the shock fully captured her spirit. Warmth filled her face. "What…Do…" The words died on her tongue. Her head slightly tilted. "What?"

The server released another set of giggles. "Yeah… Vinnie told me to come in here and tell you that there's a guy in a Presidential Suite, waiting for you…And, he told me to tell you to hurry up and get dressed," she informed the dancer.

The statement seemed to jump-start Kaia's actions and cut the surprise away. She flinched in her seat and she glimpsed at her duffel bag and then at the server. "Ummm… Let Vinnie know that I will be there in fifteen minutes. At most! Um, I have to get change and… Yeah! Just…" Her right hand proceeded to shoo her off. "…let him know that… P-Please?"

The server nodded her head. "Yeah, I'll tell him." She nodded her head again and then smiled. "Okay, I'll let him know." She murmured another 'thank you' before she turned away and briskly walked out of the dressing room.

As soon as Kaia was alone, she released a shudder and a huff. "I… I have a Presidential Suite…" Her dark brown eyes crashed into the reflected orbs that was directly in front of her. "…Holy shit," her lips spewed. She stared at her chosen outfit. "Okay… Get dressed, Kaia. You have a customer waiting for you." She returned her gaze to the mirror. Her right hand reached up and snatched the afro wig from off of her head. Both sets of fingers removed the nylon wig cap and tossed it onto the table. 'Hair. I have to do my hair!' She finger-combed her shoulders' blades-length, straightened locks before she procured her hair products from the duffel bag. 'Wait… You have to get dress and cleaned up!' her conscience alerted her. "Shhh-it! Forgot about that," she murmured. Her hands snatched up her toiletries and then she leapt from her seat, so she could run to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, she jubilantly squealed, "I have a dance in the Presidential Suite".

---

Close to thirty minutes later, Kaia emerged from the dressing room and she entered the clubroom, once again. She felt like she was a different woman than the woman that entered the room, thirty minutes ago. She looked slightly different: the afro was gone and was replaced with her natural hair that was flat-ironed into a blanket of sleekness. The makeup had gone darker with a black-lacquered lipstick and heavy, black eyeshadow. On her fit and buxom frame was in a red cowl-neck, metallic dress that showcased her cleavage and her thick legs, along with her hips. In her hand was a small black, clutch purse in which its handle was a bejeweled handcuff.

"KAIA!" she heard Vinnie's screamed out, over the loud music. This time, she spotted him just as he screamed her name. The manager did his hobble-shuffle walk from the bar into her direction. His fat face was flushed and sweaty. His short and thick arms waved in the air, erratically, expressing his irritation. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! WHAT TOOK YOU SO LONG?!" he shouted. "GO! GO! GO!" His hands pointed to the doorway that was on the other side of the spacious floor.

The dancer gave the manager a glimpse that showcased her annoyance. Then she proceeded to evade the approaching portly man by walking into another direction. Vinnie managed to catch up with the woman and he cuffed her right bicep with his hot and sweaty hand. Her eyes gave him a sharp glare before she turned her attention to the doorway that led to the Presidential Suites. He escorted her across the parlor. Along the way, she heard Vinnie pass along greetings and promises of her return, to some interested customers. Once they approached the entryway, Vinnie spoke to the imposing bouncer that stood by the door. They spoke into hushed tones, but she managed to catch the bouncer's voice notifying the manager about 'the one in the back'. Afterwards, he allowed Kaia the opportunity to enter the room first.

She grabbed the sheer burgundy curtains and brushed them aside. She was surprised to discover a stairwell instead of the cavernous-sized room that she expected to see.

"Go up!" Vinnie brusquely ordered, along with a nudge to her right shoulder.

Kaia kissed her teeth in annoyance and rolled her eyes, in response. She gathered the soft material form her dress in between her fingers and then she began to climb the wooden staircase. She felt the man climb behind her. Occasionally, her ears picked the sound of his exertion and the backs of her legs would feel a graze, due to his unrefined movements. As soon as she reached the second floor to the building, she made a few steps away from the staircase. She needed to put some space in between the both of them.

"Wait…Wait," Vinnie said weakly. A moist cough escaped from him. "Wait for me," he rasped out.

'Oh, come on!' her brain growled, along with the spike of annoyance penetrated her soul. A low hiss escaped from her bared teeth. She turned away from the portly, clumsy man and she eyed the end of the long corridor. Her eyes spotted the entryway to a room. The sliding partition-styled door was pulled away from threshold, but there was floor-length, red veil hanging from the lintel. It was transparent enough that she could make out obscured shapes and their colors, as well as, the light that was inside of the room.

Movement.

The obscured object that was facing her while it occupied the room… It moved.

Before she could probe any further, Vinnie's bedraggled coughs distracted her. She turned to face the man, who was hobbling over to her. His hand shot out and clasped her right elbow. He gave her a slight jerk.

"Come on," he rasped. "Follow me."

Vinnie led the way while keeping a firm grip on her arm. Despite being a man that could barely walk, his feet did make wide strides with each step. Kaia's heels made a song of tittering noises as she struggled to match his pace.

"Ahhhh, right there! Right there, baby!"

It was a husky, masculine groan. It had come from one of the closed-off rooms that she was walking in front of. It was the kind of groan that let the young dancer know what kind of activity was being committed in that room. 'Oh God,' she internally groaned with disgust. Then, she was struck by it. By her fear, which was her reaction to the notion that she was about to enter a room, where a client might be expecting the same experience. "Oh God," she whimpered, fearfully.

Since the age of twenty, Kaia worked as a stripper. She never relied on just one club for a steady income, so she worked out of numerous clubs in Gotham City. She was smart and crafty about it. She never spoken about the different clubs to any of her co-workers, with the exception of Naomi, who was a seasoned professional that encouraged her to work that system. She relied on the nightclubs in which she made the most money and was loyal to them. Whenever they needed a dancer to fill in, she was there. Yet, one of the things that she didn't do was have sex with anybody that was affiliated with the clubs, whether if it were the clubs' employees or the clients. She didn't fuck for fees either. She didn't begrudge or smite the dancers that did have sex with clients, as a side-hustle, but she didn't encourage it either. She treated the jobs as jobs, she would fulfill her obligations and would work her shifts. Then she would take her ass home.

She managed to avoid the possibility of exchanging sexual favors for cash, for the past nine years. She had a feeling that tonight was going to be the moment, when her moral conviction will be tested.

As she drawn closer to the end of the corridor, her eyes took in the surprise sight of a quartet of bouncers. They were standing by the doorway of the shrouded entryway. As Kaia and Vinnie walked closer, she noticed something else about the club's security guards. They were a quartet of bouncers who were armed… With guns. 'G-Guns? Why would they…Have them?' Vinnie's and David's guards never carried firearms while they worked the nightclub. The imposing physiques and their brute strength usually served as weapons for protection. Her eyes widened and she started to show her fear. 'What the…?' her brain sighed. Her sight landed on the doorway again. 'Who's in the room?' was whispered in her mind. Then she realized that her journey wasn't adding in any left or right turns; they were heading straight to the room. She was going to dance for a possible dangerous being that was lounging in the room. And with all of the fuck-shit that was going on in Gotham City, Metropolis and even in Midway City, it doesn't even have to be a human being in that room. 'N-No…No.'

"Alright, Kaia," Vinnie murmured with a raspy tone, once they settled upon the room's entrance. He forced her to stand in front of him. His pudgy, stout fingers slipped under her chin and nudged. "Pay attention…" he ordered, in a soft, yet brusque tone.

Kaia's fingernails bit into the heels of her hands to avoid from slapping the shit out of the manager. Her teeth sank into bottom lip and her eyes narrowed as she glowered at him.

"…This man is an important client of ours. You'll treat him with respect and you make sure that he is enjoying himself. If I receive one word of a complaint from him, then you're out of here! You understand?" Vinnie informed her.

"Yeah, I got it, Vinnie," she said softly, not hiding her feeling of indifference from the man.

In a soft tone, he said, "'Member what I said: The Presidential Suite costs two-hundred and twenty-five smack-a-roos, for one hour. If he wants to bang ya and you agree to it, then I want half of—

'Wait a minute…' Her brow wrinkled and her eyes became narrower with confusion. "Wait, you said that you would get forty-percent—

"Price changed, ever since you wanted to take your sweet-ass time getting ready and getting out of that dressing room and have the man wait!" he sharply pointed out.

'Son-of a-bitch,' she silently swore.

"Now, come on and lemme introduce you to the man," he announced. His hand tugged on her captured arm. He forced her to follow him. His free hand brushed the red veils to the side and he peered into the suite. "Digger! Digger! Digger! I'm sorry for the wait, old friend!" she heard Vinnie greet the person, as he peered into the room and began to hobble into the room. His aggressive hand yanked on her bicep, forcing her to follow the same path. "Women! They need to look perfect at all times…"

Kaia's feet frantically tapped across the floor's surface as she entered the room. However, she wasn't aware of her feet's frantic actions. Her attention focused on the interior of the Presidential Suite. 'Definitely bigger than a walk-in closet inside of my house,' she decided as her eyes surveyed the walls, at the various mounted speakers. The room was large. It reminded the woman of a standard-sized hotel room. It was well-lit, courtesy of the wall sconces and the free-standing lamps that were stationed in each corner. Marble columns connected each wall, in each corner. The longest walls were covered with mirrors, which faced each other. In the center of the hardwood floor, was a circular stage that held a pole in the middle and LED light-paved platform. The stage was four feet off of the floor. Burgundy-colored, leather seating decorated the room: four solitary chairs were sporadically stationed in various points and a sectional that was a twenty-feet in front of the stage.

Her eyesight tore away from an armrest that made up one end of the sectional and she stared at the man, who was sitting in the center with his arms casually resting on the back of the couch. Her eyes unintentionally widened with a sense of marvel. 'Whoa,' her brain breathed.

The mysterious and brash-looking male sat in the center of the sectional, looking out-of-place in this opulent designed-room. He looked as if he had participated in a recent brawl with the scratches to his left temple and on the bridge of his nose. 'And it might've been with a pair of electric clippers from the looks of it,' she silently quipped, as she eyed the muttonchops and the wonky mohawk. Even with his choice in apparel, he looked as if he didn't belong in Salome's Quarters. The mandated dress code for the clients was similar to the ones that were perpetuated by white-collar jobs: no jeans, no construction-styled boots, no sneakers and T-shirts. This dude violated every bit of the rules with his jeans, threadbare and duct tape-decked boots, as well as, his thick shearling coat. He looked every bit of the ruffian that would prowl the Gotham City streets to harass, fight, steal or kill.

"…I've tried to get her to make it quick and—

"Well, she's here now…"

'What-the-hell?' her brain abruptly murmured, with surprise.

The voice. It was rough and masculine, as well as, Australian. It sounded as if the owner smoked a pack of cigarettes per week, chewed on snuff and drank unfiltered whiskey straight out of the barrel.

"…and that's all that mattah," the Australian pointed out.

Kaia noticed that she was his eyes' focal point. Once he realized that she was staring at him, a toothy smile touched down on his lips, revealing a gold-covered upper incisor. The gold tooth didn't gather her attention as much as the lecherous intention behind his smile. A shiver touched her skin and leaving goose-pimples in its wake. Her face was filled with a warmth that felt similar to a blush.

Those pair of blue orbs glinted in the soft yellow light of the room. "What's ya' name, darlin'?" he drawled out.

Seconds ticked back and she didn't answer, so Vinnie gave her the initiative to answer the mysterious man's question. A sharp and strong nudge was given to her left flank, by his stubby fingers. A sharp squeak escaped from her mouth and a slight flinch left her body. "Answer the man!" Vinnie sharply whispered, his voice was caked with anger.

And, with fear.

Kaia looked away from the blue-eyed vagabond and she glimpsed at Vinnie, who was now standing behind her. Then, she returned her stare to the man that was in front of her. "I…" she breathed. "My name's Dahlia-Jayne," she informed him. Her hands joined together, in front of her stomach.

"No's…not," the Australian groaned, which sounded more like a growl. His chin slightly tilted, a sign that he was challenging her.

"D-Digger, of course, it's her real name," Vinnie confirmed.

She watched his blue eyes slightly twitch in their sockets and aimed their gaze on the sliver of presence that belonged to Vinnie.

"Wasn't talkin' to ya…" His chin pointed to Kaia while he kept his glare on the manager. "…Was talkin' to the Sheila in front of ya," he explained with a slur to his tone.

'Wha…' Her line of sight landed on the opened bottle of champagne that rested on by his right thigh. It was the 'complimentary bottle' of champagne that came with the room. 'Oh… Okay. Looks like he's decided to help himself.' Her eyesight landed on the face of the man that was her client and the sole reason as to why she was able to snag her very first spin in the Presidential Suite. She was greeted by his heavy blue-eyed gaze.

"Mmm?" he groaned, playfully.

Once again, she was reluctant to speak. Vinnie provided motivation again with one of his finger-jabs. "Kaia! Tell him your name!" the manager ordered.

An expression of extreme annoyance crossed her face. With a deep scowl in her brow and an eye-roll, she answered his question. "My name's Kaia," she informed him. 'Please don't ask for a middle and a last name.'

"Kaia…" the Australian growled.

She felt as if he was testing how his tongue would make her name and then savoring it.

"…It's a very pretty name…" His released a series of soft head nods. "…for a very pretty girl."

"Thank you," she said softly. The compliment made her skin bristle.

The toothy smile became tapered and simmered into a grin. The weighty aura that circulated in his eyes still swirled around. "Come ovah here. I won't bite ya," he playfully stated.

Kaia knew that he issued an order to her despite his benevolent tone. Before she could make her decision to act out, Vinnie made the decision for her. There was a sharp stab into her lower back and then a strong force. She felt her upper body lose its control as well as her feet losing their balance. The crash landing to the floor was inevitable. Pain cut into the skin and bone that violently collided with the floor. Her pride was harmed worse than her knees and shins.

"Kaia! She's alright…She just landed—Kaia, woman, get up off of…"

She felt Vinnie's fat fingers touch the skin on her arms, trying to grasp onto her biceps. Instinctually, she turned her attention to brusque man that stood behind her. Her eyes glowered at him and a feline-like hiss escaped from her snarling lips. "Don't. Touch me!" she snapped, using a sharp whisper. She moved her upper body from out of his grasp and she proceeded to lift herself off of the floor. Once she was secured, she eyed the guest who witnessed everything. His eyes were on her and there was a smirk on his face. 'Fucking great. Just great,' she silently grumbled. She glanced down at the front of her dress, checking for dust or dirt.

"See? She's fine!" Vinnie conveyed. There was a nervous chortle that followed. "She's fine, Digger! She's taken nastier falls than that one…" He kept talking, trying to assuage any sense of anger that could've been brewing inside of the man.

Kaia, on her stiletto heels, traveled over into the danger-zone, which was the sectional. As she drawn closer, she watched his left hand extend in front of him, palm-side up. An offering. The notion that he was expecting to use his lap as a seat for her, crossed her mind. There was another shiver. 'It's just a lap, Kaia,' her conscience. 'You've done more than sitting on a guy's lap before.' She took in a breath and attempted to fight down the frazzled emotions that were running her body ragged.

Her dark brown eyes scanned his paw's appearance. Despite the rough and rugged appearance that covered his imposing physique, his extended hand was well-maintained. His hand was clean. The fingernails were clipped and were free from caked-up dirt. The palm of his hand possessed a patch of dryness that she easily assumed came from washing his hands. Her sight peered away from his offering appendage and landed on his face. She found a similar observatory gaze was placed on her, from his own orbs.

"What are ya waitin' fo, love?" the Australian playfully queried. His head performed a slight tilt. "Come on. Come have a seat," he cajoled.

Kaia took note of the mischief that was laced in his eyes. She took in another breath. 'It's just an hour, Kay. Just one hour. Sixty minutes. Dance for him. Talk to him. If he wants to touchy-feeling, tell him that it'll cost him six-hundred extra. That'll have him running for the hills,' she told herself. Her eyes glimpsed at his hand once more before returning to gaze at his face. Then her right lightly grasped his hand. Once her long and graceful fingers curled around his large paw, there was a tight and strong grasp, which was followed by a brute yank to her limb. Her vision became blurred and a flash of colors ran across her eyes while a harsh breeze struck her, as she was propelled forward. A low yelp escaped her as she collided into a thick and sturdy wall of smooth leather and heat. The onslaught smells of leather, tobacco and the acidic strand of alcohol plugged her nostrils.

Once her vision returned, she performed a quick sweep of her surroundings. She was indeed sitting on his lap, his left thigh, to be precise. Her right side was clumsily resting on his torso while his left arm was possessively wrapped around her waist.

"There ya go!" he cheerfully growled into her hairline. His left hand, then, gave her firm left thigh a few appreciative smacks. "Nice and comfy on the ol' Boomer's lap!" His mouth and throat released a series of snickers.

Kaia could only harshly gasp from the shock that she felt. Her left hand had gone to rest of his coat-covered chest and to push herself away from his gruff clutches. A pair of warm lips grazed her forehead and then there was a squeeze to her waist, from his arm. Her face tilted northwards and her sight came upon a stubbly chin, along with sandy blond facial hair.

"Where ya think ya goin'? Hmm?" he muttered into her skin. Warm, liquor-scented breath fanned her skin. There was a friskiness in his tone.

She immediately turned her investigating gaze away from his chin. Her sight landed on his unoccupied thigh and the opened bottle of Almondage Flavored California, whose neck was resting against the denim-covered body part.

"Me and ya ain't have our fun yet," he pointed out. "Sit tight," he growled. "Boomer's gon' take care of ya."

'Oh goodness,' her brain whimpered. A millisecond later, she felt his lips and breath lift from off of her forehead.

"Out," he growled.

The packed animosity in his voice caused her belly to flinch and her heart to spasm. Her dark brown eyes lifted up once more and attempt to spy on the face of this oaf. Her sight succeeded by landing on the underside of his chin. She took note that his attention was not on her, but on the son-of a-bitch that brought her here.

"Ah-Of course Digger…"

The weakly-contained level of distress inside of Vegas Vinnie's voice, caused Kaia to glance at the man. He was standing several feet away. His right hand was extended in front of him, which was his piss-poor attempt of protecting himself. His feet kept forming short, backward steps that held a slow but cautious pace. His forehead, droopy cheeks and his jowls contained a deep blush. He kept his dark gray eyes on the intimidating man that was seated.

"…I'm goin'. I'm goin'. I'm 'bout to leave you two alone…" He made a rapid glance behind him, from over his right shoulder. Then he returned his gaze to the duo. "…Y'all have one hour. K-Kaia will let you know. Digger… It was nice doin' business with ya," the manager announced. He sputtered for a few seconds before clamping his lips shut. He continued to back away from them, with his hand still extended in front of him. He kept making backward glances until he was about a foot away from the exit. Then there was a sudden departure from the Presidential Suite, when he fiercely spun around and he shuffled out of the room. A few seconds later, the room was filled with the sound of the door being closed.

A silence permeated through the room and made the loneliness more obvious for Kaia. 'Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God…' she silently cried. She continued to discreetly panic as she sat in the intimate setting. The sounds of the champagne being guzzled by an eager mouth and its freedom from the bottle, were the soundtrack that filled the room. After having the minutes tick by, Kaia's limited sense of courage decided to make its appearance. '—od—GET A GRIP! GET. A. GRIP! COME ON, KAY… THINK! THINK! IT'S JUST A DANCE! It's… It's just a dance. One hour. Sixty minutes. Just dan—

"Wha' we 'bout to do—

"I wanna dance… For you," Kaia blurted out as she lifted off of his torso, in a quick fashion. Her brown-eyed gaze landed on his hair-covered face while her left hand was pressed against his pectorals.

An almost-comical expression of confusion covered his surprisingly-handsome features. His brow ridge held onto a set of deep creases. His top lip performed a mild snarl. His narrowed eyes held a gleam. "Wha—

"You're…" she breathed. She glimpsed at the bottle that was being held in his right hand. Then she glanced at his face again. "...You've paid me—Speaking of which…" Kaia abruptly peeled herself from out of his one-armed embrace and off of his lap. She stood in between his splayed legs and then she held out her right hand. She glanced into his eyes. "You owe me two-hundred and twenty-five dollars," she alerted the Australian, with a firm and unyielding voice.

The Australian, Digger, peered at her opened palm and snickered.

Without a word, Kaia turned away from him and took a step into the direction of the exit. 'Not going to waste—

Before she could silently curse his existence for wasting her time, she was disrupted due to the feel of his hand on her left wrist. The second retreating step never made it to the floor. Kaia turned around and spied his grasping hand. The offending hand tightened its grip. She peered at Digger's eyes. "Take your hand off of me," she demanded.

"Calm yourself," he groaned, a warning.

"No, I won't. I didn't come up here for any silly little—

"Yeah-yeah-yeah," he muttered. He brashly released her hand. He leaned back against the couch. His eyes glanced at the floor while his hands brushed the lapels of his coat from off of him. He revealed the front of a powder-blue, track suit jacket to her eyes.

'A jacket. Dude is just planning on having a heat stroke, in this weather,' she said to herself. She continued to stare down at Digger and view his hands' actions. 'What is he do—

"I gotcha money," he mumbled as he passed off a thick lump of money from his left hand to his right hand. His left set of fingers began to attack the rubber band that kept the bills neatly together.

'Aa-Oh…Holy shit,' she quietly gasped. Her eyes stared at the seven-inch-thick knot of bills that were in his possession. Her sight locked in on the number amount that was printed on the top bill. 'A hundred…Those could be… Hundreds-Nah. No way.' Her assessment was disrupted by a stream of masculine snickering. Her focus landed on the pair of eyes that were locked on her.

There was an all-knowing smirk on his lips, which matched the mirthful energy in his eyes. "Gotcha attention now, don't I?" He snickered again. He stared at his stash. "How much I owe ya, hon?" He proceeded to count the bills in his hands.

'Hundred…Hundred… Hundred…' Then she began to quietly count each bill that passed between his hands. '…One-two-three-four… Eight-nine-ten… Thirteen-fourteen-fifteen-sixteen-seven—

"How much?" Digger gruffly stated, knocking her off her counting. "I'm not askin' again," he grumbled.

"You…" she sighed. She took in a deep breath. "Two-hundred and twenty-five dollars," she answered confidently, even though her adrenaline was causing a subtle tremor in her limbs.

Digger gave her face a glimpse and then he stared down at his money. "Alright…" His left thumb and index finger peeled away three, one-hundred dollar bills from the small stack. His left hand placed the bills on her extended palm, whose existence was forgotten. "There ya go. Don't worry ya pretty head 'bout the change," he smugly commented.

Kaia's right set of fingers curled around the money and she retracted her hand. She glanced at his face. "Thank you," she murmured. She had taken a few backward steps and then turned away from him.

"Hey! Where ya goin'?!" he ordered, with his booming voice echoed along the walls.

She glanced over her right shoulder and stared at the grumpy Australian. "I'm not cutting and running out on you. I'm just turning on some music, so I can dance for you," she clarified. She turned forward with the soundtrack of his ornery-infused muttering. Kaia walked around the stage and she walked back to the area that held the exit. Instead of heading over to the exit, she detoured to the left, where there was an entertainment center pressed against the wall. Her left hand reached for her clutch, whose handle was wrapped around her right wrist. She opened the bag and placed her money inside, but she removed her Apple iPod Touch device from the interior, as well. Then she stared down at the sleek-looking stereo system that was presented in front of her. "Now… Let's hope that this stereo has a…" Her focus landed on the desired feature: an audio dock for MP3 players. "…Bingo," she murmured. Her left fingertips reached in front of her, to the stereo's console. She powered on the audio machinery and made the desired changes. Meanwhile her right hand searched through her iPod and found the type of music that she wanted. She mounted the device onto the dock and music began to play in the suite. As Kaia arranged the volume to the music to her preference, her eyes caught the sight of the panel of light switches that was mounted on the wall. She reached out and changed the current light setting. She scanned the room as the light dimmed and the multi-colored lights in the stage had brightened. "Better," she whispered. 'At least, I won't see his creepy-ass eyes.'

Kaia pulled away from the entertainment center and traveled over to the stage's vicinity. The soles of her platform heels created echoes along with each step. Her eyes focused on the large lump of a man that sat on the leather couch. The poor lighting had made it difficult to make out his precise figure. 'You said that you wanted to make it dark in here,' her conscience alerted her. She made her way to the circular stage and she mounted on the platform. She gave the shadowed stranger one last glimpse before she slipped on her 'temptress' veneer.

As soon as her feet touched the platform, Kaia reached for the stainless steel pole. With a finesse spin around the beam, she began to dance to the music. Her body seductively swayed. Her round hips rolled and her hands caressed her curves. Her fingers would grasp the high slits of her dress and she coyly revealed the flesh of her supple thighs. She performed spins on the pole. It was during a spin, when she strategically slipped into a split, on the stage's floor. Her dark brown eyes peered at the figure as she crawled to the edge of the platform. Long and limber legs climbed off of the edge of the stage. Once her feet landed on the hardwood floor, her knees parted and there was an unabashed wide berth between them. Fingertips traced the seam in the spaghetti straps that were attached to the dress. A teasing smile touched her lips. Her face turned to her right shoulder just as her fingers peeled the right strap from off of her shoulder. Then she gave the left dress strap the same treatment, using her right hand. Her fingertips traced the pronounced ridge of her collarbone and then they drifted down to neckline of her dress. The light caresses unleashed trails of pleasure on her skin.

"Come on girl," she heard him say. She took note of the uneven breathing pattern that littered his speech. "Don't tease," he mirthfully stated. "Been's teasin' since ya came up there."

Kaia's smile stretched wider. She glanced down at her hands and chest. She viewed her fingers as they curled around the flimsy neckline and began to peel the top portion of her dress off. There was a snail's pace descent. A shimmering, red transparent brassiere came into view. A millisecond later, she heard the clucking of teeth.

"Fuckin' tease," he muttered with mild distaste which was on the borderline of a taunt.

A light and airy giggle left her mouth. She lifted her head up and her gaze peered forward. Her eyes managed to catch Digger the Australian in action. She watched the large beast of a man sit up and remove his thick coat. 'Finally,' she quietly whispered. 'He was making me hot with that damn coat on.' His right hand gathered the coat and guided it to an unoccupied cushion, with a careless toss. Her eyes took in the 'Captain' patch that was on the front of the track jacket. It was split apart by his fingers as they unzipped the front, revealing a dark shirt. The jacket retrieved the same fate as his shearling. Her sight landed on the bare and pale arms and shoulders that came into view. The smile that graced her lips faltered. Her eyes slightly widened and a flutter erupted in her stomach. Heat kissed her face, along with the apex of her thighs. 'Ah…God…Damn,' she secretly whimpered.

The young dancer did not suspect that this 'Digger' person was a card-carrying member of 'The Gun Show'. She expected for the Aussie to have a thick and flabby form attached to his frame. She expected to see a proud and low, floppy belly underneath that coat, along with arms that didn't appeared to be carved from marble. 'Wherever he lays his head at night… There must be a dumb bell set nearby,' she said to herself.

The neon yellow light from the stage had highlighted his upper body's movement. Kaia watched her client leaned back against the seat again. His hands moved against the tops of his thighs while his head slightly reared back, so his dark eyes could glare at her.

"Girlie, come ovah here. Tired of seeing me money goin' tah waste," Digger called out. His left hand extended in front of him. His finger performed a flurry of 'come hither' gestures. "I don't plan on wastin' any more of me money."

Kaia drew her legs closed, the heels from her shoes scraped against the wooden floor. She pushed herself off of the stage and stood up. She made a few steps into his direction before coming to a stop. Her hands reached for the crumpled dress and pushed at the fabric. With a shimmy to her hips, the article of clothing slipped to the floor. Now she was adorned in her brassiere and G-string underwear. She peered down at her curvy and toned body. Her palms and fingers lightly caressed her bare skin, eliciting waves of pleasure to wash over her.

"Would ya look at that…?"

She looked away and glanced her client.

"…Lovelier than tha stars in tha sky," he commented as his right thumbnail lightly scratch at his right eyebrow. He kept his gaze locked on her. "Come ovah here," he groaned in his natural gravelly tone.

'Well… Here goes nothing,' she surmised. 'Hope to God that he doesn't smell as rough as he looks.'

Kaia's chest rose as she inhaled. She squared her shoulders back and she leveled the rugged man a confident glare. A sultry smirk slipped its way to her mouth and then she began to saunter over to him. Her footsteps echoed through the room. With every step, she felt her heart pound harder than its last beat. Her fingers lost the feeling in them while the flesh on her arms buzzed with a peculiar form of excitement. In the midst of step, a notion crept to the forefront of her mind. Rather than question her brain's sudden active imagination, she just enacted the idea. Her feet came to what appeared to be an unsuspected halt. She examined the appearance of confusion-turned-annoyance that marked his face.

"Girl—

The Aussie managed to cut his own statement off. His tongue had got in the way of his teeth while his eyes took in the woman's form as she slinked down to her knees, then onto her hands. She returned to the pose that she was in earlier as she danced on that small stage. In the lighting, her sinewy form glowed. A slow and drawling chuckle came from him. "Girl…" A grunt came from his throat. "Come 'ere."

She reared her ass back to rest on the heels of her feet for a second before she initiated her traveling. Using the same method from her first erotic crawl, she made large and loopy steps into his personal space. Once she came face-to-face with his denim-covered shins and his battered boots, she slipped in a provocative kneeling pose with her thighs spread and a deep arch in her back.

"It's 'bout time," he groaned, the smile returned to his lips.

She released a sigh through a nose and a smirk crossed her lips. Her hands clasped onto his knees and she used his legs to aid her in becoming close to the man. Her hands made trails against the tops of his thighs, starting from the knees and ending when they reached his hips. She slipped into the space between his thighs and she slightly lifted her height, so her brassiere-clad bust could rest on his covered crotch. Her eyes performed a coy exchange with his lower stomach, for a few seconds before they "shyly" glanced at his face. She was welcomed with the face of a man that thoroughly enjoyed this moment. There was a toothy, lascivious smile and a gleam in his eyes. She immediately picked up the over-abundance of heat that came from his larger form. Her nose didn't pick up any odor from Digger as she lain in this intimate position. In fact, he smelled clean and oddly like a man-made fragrance.

"Just in tha…"

The flesh that covered her biceps shivered at the feel of hardened and heated flesh.

"…right pos—

"Hands off," she commanded. Her shoulders performed a harsh shimmy, in effort to remove themselves from his clutches. She peered at each of his hands and then at his face. "Off!" she snipped, giving each of his hands a smack. "You cannot touch me unless I…"

Digger released a hard groan of disappointment as he let go of her.

"…tell you that you can touch me," she scolded him.

He sank back into the couch's back and huffed. A paw rubbed at his face. "Woman," he groaned. "Ya gonna be the death of me, if you don't start doin' somethin'."

"Well…" She pulled back. "…the only 'somethin' that you're gonna get from me is a lap dance," she explained to him. She grabbed onto his kneecaps. "If you were looking for something else, then you're barking up the wrong tree, Big Dog." She climbed to her feet and stood in between his thighs. She placed her hands on her hips and tossed him an expectant look. "So, what's it gonna be, Mister Digger?" she plainly asked him. "This lap dance or do you want me to leave and you can find yourself another dancer. Either way, I am going to leave this room with my three-hundred bucks." The Aussie tossed her a glower. But Kaia didn't appear to be bothered by his reaction.

Seconds turned into minutes and the stand-still remained strong. Kaia didn't have any qualms with facing the rejection from this guttersnipe brute. She also didn't care if Vegas Vinnie pitched a fit about 'an unsatisfied customer' and fired her, as a result. This wasn't her primary source of income anyway. If this gruff and tumble asshole wanted retribution, then he needed to handle it up with Vinnie and David.

The stand-still came to a complete halt at the sound of a huff and a groan. "Fuckin' women," was muttered before a song of creasing leather erupted. He gifted Kaia a look of displeasure. "Fuckin'…" His words dissolved into incoherent mumbles. His hands were tossed in the air. "…Hop on," he mumbled.

'Hop… On?' The vivid description caused the woman to snort and giggle. Once her laughter died down, she turned away and walked away from him.

"HEY! WHAT-THE—

"I am going over to the radio to change the music!" she informed him, from over her right shoulder. "Hold ya horses!"

"Tha damn stereo has been touch more than me cock and it hasn't been paying you!" he shouted at her retreating back.

An unrefined snort came from her nose, which was followed the act of her subtle head shake. 'I just haddd to get this rowdy and rude fucker as my first 'Presidential Suite' client,' she mused as she continued to saunter over to the entertainment center. As her stiletto-clad feet carried the rest of her frame across the suite, she felt the blanket of mild heat that came from his gazing. A pronounced swing was interjected into her swaying hips, as a result.

Once she arrived to the area, she decided to fix the room's light setting. It was too dark for both of their liking. Her fingertips fiddled with the plastic sliding levers and she made glimpses at various areas of the room while silently deciphering which setting was appropriate. After a stream of seconds passed and after subjecting the suite with random bursts of brightness or dimness, she discovered a suitable stance. She ended up finding the right ambiance after she powered off the wall sconces and casted the walls with veils of shadow. She glanced over at the sectional and at the impatient man, who was still muttering to himself. She snorted once again and turned to face the stereo system. She stopped the current round of music that was playing from the multiple speakers and she grabbed her music playing device. With a few swipes and a few pressed buttons, she returned the player onto the dock.

The suite's walls and the atmosphere became subjected to the sounds of a mechanical drum snare erupting. Kaia pulled away from the entertainment center by performing a few melodic, backward steps. She closed her eyes and slowly reared her head back.

"You let me violate you…" was spilled from the speakers.

Her hands came to her stomach, where her fingers were splayed against the hot and soft flesh.

"…You let me desecrate you…"

Her appendages performed a slow drag against her stomach, ascending to her diaphragm and to her pair of breasts. A ticklish but pleasurable sensation kissed at her skin.

"…You let me penetrate you…"

Her fingers reached up the back of her neck and she cupped.

"…You let me complicate you…"

Kaia glanced over her left shoulder. Her sight landed on the man that was still eyeing her with a mixture of annoyance and skepticism.

"…Help me…"

She pivoted on the balls of her stiletto-clad feet and she began walking away from the entertainment center. Her gawking was unwavering.

"…Help me…"

Kaia watched his chin tilt and then his jaw as it twitch with contempt.

"…Help me…"

"Am I gonna get…?" Digger arrogantly crowed.

"…Help me get away from myself…"

"…me money's worth, now?!"

"…I want to fuck you like an animal…"

Kaia didn't respond to Digger's whining statement. Once she entered the sectional's vicinity, the dancer invaded his personal bubble and climbed onto his lap. Her legs straddled his powerfully-built thighs and she sat down on his groin. Her hands snatched up the puffed-up leather that were beside his head. She drew her face closer, allowing her lips to lightly graze his left temple. Her hips grew a rhythmic action, which blended in with the music. Her hearing picked up the soft and sharp moans that came from his tightly-shut lips.

As she ground into his hidden point of arousal, her silk-covered center ran across the rough and hard fabric of his denim jeans. The rings that pierced her labia and the space right above her outer labia brashly rubbed against both her layer of skin and underwear, effectively arousing her clit. 'Shhhh… It,' she secretly moaned. Pleasure caused a breathy moan to fan his face.

She pulled her hips away from his crotch, making her lower her face. "Is this…?" she breathed into his left ear. The sensation of hardened and warm flesh returned, but this time it crawled up the backs of her thighs. "…what you've wanted?" she teased. She slightly turned her face away, so she could peered at his venturing hands. She brushed her lips against the outer shell of his ear. "Hands off," she demanded, in a soft but authoritative voice. There was a huff of breath and then a mirthless snicker.

"Fuckin' cock tease," he muttered. She giggled, in response.

Her fingers released the leather and smoothed down the wrinkles away. Her hands caressed the leather and traveled down to his shoulders. Her fingers made caressing swipes against the flesh-covered muscle and bone before making a detour in their journey. Fingertips sifted through the short, coarse strands that made up his muttonchops and sideburns. She viewed his reaction to her hands' comforting ministrations. The back of his head pressed against the sectional cushion and his chin lifted, exposing his throat. His imposing glare was disrupted by his own eyelids' volition. Her fingers slipped into his curly, brown mohawk. She played with the soft strands and lightly scratched at his exposed scalp. She listened to a heavy groan escaped from his throat.

"Fuckin' hell," moaned Digger.

Sharp pain was stabbed into her right buttock just as her hearing picked up the brash sound of skin slapping another's skin. She squeaked and flinched over him. Her right hand slipped from his curly crop of hair just to give his left earlobe a firm pinch, in retaliation.

"Did ya…" He paused and allowed a strong groan escaped his mouth. "Did ya think that would hurt me, love?" he teased. "Ya gotta do more than that tah me." A rough exhale escaped from his mouth.

Kaia removed her hands from his hair as she pressed her front against him. The speed and location for her hips' undulations became altered. Now, they were slow and off of his groin. Her hips and pelvis were grazing his tank top's surface. Her elbows rested on his shoulders and his head was caged in between her forearms. She brought her face close to his own. Sensing her near, he attempted to close the sliver of space that was in between their mouths. She teasingly pulled away. He unleashed a disapproving groan. She chuckled.

"Fuckin'— Two-hundred," he groaned. The second half of his statement was abrupt and minimal. "Two-hundred, love," he whimpered.

But the message was clear for Kaia.

The erotic hip-swaying faltered and then ceased. Surprise filled her, even though she shouldn't have been surprised by his proposal for sex.

"Two-hundred and we…" he breathed, his desperation for his cock's release was evident. "…We can have ourselves a good time," he proposed.

'A good ol' time, huh?' she said to herself. She watched his eyes flutter open and his sapphire-colored orbs come into view. The glint of an arrogant man was still embedded in them, but there hints of overwhelming need in them. A rippling wave of pressure was bred in the pit of her stomach, in response. The knot of pressure, then, splintered off and fragments slithered down in to her cunt. A dull ache kissed at her barely-covered sex. 'He's desperate… And you're creaming off of that. Such a sick puppy,' her conscience ribbed.

She drew her face closer. She was so close that she smelled the cheap champagne's scent on his breath and her nose occasionally grazed the tip of his own. His face invaded the space that was in between them. This time, she didn't pull away. Lips met and formed a light caress against each other.

Hands gripped the back of her thighs. The fingers squeezed at the curves and the muscles that lain underneath the layer of skin. There was a release. Thick and long digits were spread across the skin. A flimsy caress was placed before they began their journey, on her legs. The trip began at the back of her knees and traveled north.

"You have two problems, Sir," she confessed in a whisper against his lips.

"There's no problem that I can't fix," boasted Digger.

"I don't know about that, sugar," she whispered. "First problem is, I don't fuck for free…"

The hands' traveling came to an abrupt stop. His fingertips came to rest underneath the curve of her ass.

"…and your second problem is the fact that we don't have enough time. Less than twenty minutes, actually," she confessed.

Digger pushed his head from out of her clutches. His fine features held a look of contempt. "Wah are ya—

"I'm talking about you getting your jollies off, Sir," she sarcastically clarified.

The look of contempt magnified. A sound that resembled a grunt came from his mouth. "I just gave you three-hundred dollars—

"And the lap dance in here costs two-hundred and twenty-five dollars," she pointed out.

"So considah the seventy-five bucks as yah fee!" he scowled.

"No… Unless you add in additional seven-hundred and fifty dollars to it," she smartly stated.

"What?!" he harshly grunted. His hands clasped her waist in a tight hold. "What do yah mean that I owe you seven-hundred dollahs?! You just said that—

"I want six-hundred for the fuck and the hundred and fifty is the fee for the second dance, in here. In case you have forgotten, we have less than a half-hour left…" She glimpsed at her thighs and she returned her gaze at him. "…And judging by the stone that's been poking me, you'll want to savor the experience."

"Bloody…" growled Digger. His head tilted forward. His face became perfectly aligned with her bound cleavage. Gusts of hot, dewy air fanned her chest while his facial hair stabbed at her flesh. He expelled a gust of breath, out in frustration. "Wha makes you…" His head rose. A pair of blue orbs surveyed her face. "…worth six-hundred bloody dollahs, mmm?! I can go down there and get one of those Sheilas down there to have a root wit me and without…"

Kaia stared at the uncouth Australian as he continued to rant about the stipulations that she recently announced. She eyed the scene and found it to be… Adorable.

And, she also knew about the other thing for the irate Aussie.

Despite the snarling lips, the flushed face and the indignant tone in his voice, she knew that he didn't want a rut with another woman. His hands' ministrations told her the truth. He kept a firm hold onto her waist. It was as if he believed that she would float away, if he let go. With every centimeter of movement that was committed from her, he forced her to stay stationary.

"…givin' me lip about—

"Seven-hundred and fifty dollars. That's my final offer," she reported with a sense of finality.

"Seven-hundred and fifty—

"Yes. Seven-hundred… And fifty dollars. I'm not bargaining…" She shook her head. "I'm not budging, Digger. Either put up or shut up…" Her lips stopped speaking and puckered, before handing his lips a kiss. Her plump layers of flesh then lined his jawline with kisses as they ascended up to his left earlobe. Her ass settled back down on his denim-covered hardness and proceeded to grind down on his tortured prick. Once arriving to his earlobe, both rows of teeth clamped down on the flap of skin. A fierce groan escaped from him and he wrapped his arms around her waist. His hands clasped onto her shoulders from behind. Her tongue licked the sight to soothe the sting. Her lips nibbled for a second and released the earlobe. "You know that you want me," she whispered in his ear. She gave his cheek a kiss. "And you know that I will give you your money's worth—

"Damn right yah are," he growled into her shoulder before his teeth clamped down.

After a moment of silence, she hummed, "So…" She pressed her face into his sideburns. "…what's the verdict?" To give him an incentive, her hidden cunt applied a slow rub against the hard bulge that was in the front of his jeans while her mouth fiddled with his ear and neck.

A few minutes later, she received his answer. She heard a few rushed and shallowed breaths before there was a short "Fuck" from him. She didn't care if he was referring to the act or if he was venting his frustration, but she knew that she had his answer.