He threw another shot back, savoring the burning of the tequila down his throat. It matched the burning in his whole body. Burning for her. Setting the shot glass on the bar, he called to the bar tender, "Another." Leaning against the counter, he could feel the last three shots starting to tingle throughout his body, throughout his conscience, causing him to wonder what feeling he had left. Grabbing the shot glass again, he tipped his head back, and swallowed all inhibitions he had about what he was about to do.

He would have done anything for that woman.

He remembered back to the first time he realized that he loved her, back in high school. They were on vacation with their parents, and they had heard about a college party going on at the beach that night at midnight. He remembered how she had begged him to go with her, explaining just how much she needed to get out and blow some steam after being stuck on vacation with her parents for three weeks.

They met on the beach that night, and he would never forget what she had looked like that night when she had danced with him out there with the moonlight as their spotlight and the waves as their audience. Her bathing suit, a small two piece, was black, contrasting with her pale skin, had driven him wild that night. Her hips moved to the music, her arms up over her head with her brown hair cascading over her shoulders. She had grabbed him and pulled her along with her in the dance, her breath on his neck as she whispered, "Dance with me." Her eyes sparkled, he didn't know if it was from the alcohol or the moon, but he didn't care as they had rocked that beach together. He had felt so wonderful as he could see college guys checking her out, watching her move her body against his. And he had felt so much power as he had pulled her even closer against him just to drive everyone watching crazy. They drank as much as they could handle, and when they could barely stand up, he had found a secluded part of the beach.

Another shot back.

He remembered how he had cradled her underneath him, the feeling of her skin against him electrifying every nerve in his body. An amateur, his hands had fumbled with her swimsuit bottom as she kissed him with such fury and desire as her fingers ran through his hair. Her lips only moved from his when she leaned her head back and moaned as his fingers found their mark. He could feel her breathing change as he kissed her exposed neck, his tongue running circles on her skin that matched his fingers. He remembered how powerful he felt when she had moaned his name before searching for his lips again.

But as he moved his fingers down lower, he remembered how her eyes had flown open, her hips had bucked, and slurred words came from her mouth, "I don't want…"

He moved his lips to hers, covering her hesitant tone. But her hands moved from his hair to his chest, and she turned her head away from his mouth. Pushing against him, she whined, "Not here." His hand felt her thighs close, and she started to wriggle against his body weight on top of her.

Being the caring little child he was that night, he had rolled off of her and asked her if she was ok, to which she had responded that she was fine but it just wasn't the time. They had both agreed that they were both so drunk that this wasn't the way that they wanted it to happen. Instead, they had just cuddled there on the beach, her head resting on his chest, his arm around her waist as they waited for the sun to come up, listening to the waves in the darkness.

It had been at that very moment. Lying there with her snuggled up against him, the smell of coconuts coming from her hair, feeling her every breath as she drifted off to sleep, it had been then and there that he knew he was in love. That he just wanted to wake up every morning like that, snuggled up together.

Another shot back.

Because although he had been the sweet gentleman on the beach, he was no longer that sixteen-year-old boy who wanted to make sure that his girlfriend was happy and comfortable. He was no longer the kind kid who waited until his girlfriend was completely ready before having sex with her. He wasn't the boy who gave up his dreams of going to college to provide for the mother of his child. Nor was he the boy who worked multiple jobs, putting up with shit that all his bosses put him through, only to come home to his wife having taken in another child to feed. No, he was no longer that boy.

Another shot as he turned around to face the club.

He was a man. And as that man, he was about to show her that he got what he wanted.

Especially from her.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lorelai could feel Oscar's hand on the back of her arm as he led her to where the guy was in the dark club. Normally, she would have felt that to be something controlling, but he wasn't pulling her. He wasn't forcing her into anything. He was just showing her where she needed to go. And, maybe after how he had comforted her downstairs, maybe this was his way of trying to calm her down before whatever was going to happen happened.

He looked down at her, and said, "Three minutes, honey."

She just smiled and said, "You'll stay the whole time, right? If he gets too violent you'll…"

Oscar interrupted her, "I'll beat the shit outta him."

She smiled at that thought, the thought of this sweet old guy watching out for her – it was way more than even Chris, her own husband, would do.

"He's right over here at the bar." Oscar said, letting go of her arm and walking in front of her. Lorelai calmed herself, knowing she had to go into this dance with a confident head on her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she told herself, Just three minutes. And all that money for Rory. And Jess. A thought came to her. Maybe we could get the car fixed, so you don't have to take the train to work. And that was enough so she could look up and walked behind the old man to stand in front of the man at the bar. He was facing away from them. The room was dark. She watched his head go back as he tipped a shot down, and set the glass down hard on the wood bar.

She fought to keep calm as she realized that he was going to be drunk. And drunks could get dangerous. Oscar is going to be there. Right there.

And she thought she had herself under control.

Until the man turned around. And she saw him.

Chris.

"Lor. You look…" She watched his eyes assault her body. "… beautiful."

She was frozen in place. She couldn't move. She couldn't yell. She couldn't do anything. Except stand there looking at him.

What is he doing here? Flew through her mind a few hundred times before her mind moved on to a new question. Where are the kids? Did he leave them at home alone?

She heard a voice. Oscar.

"This is the dancer you requested."

Still unable to move her body, she finally found words. "What the hell are you doing here?" Her words came out in clipped, short tones. Her eyes found his. And she just stared into his drunken, cloudy soul. She would not break contact. He would have to look away first.

She felt Oscar's hand on her arm, but she didn't turn away from Chris. The old Brooklyn accent met her ears, "Do you know this man, dollface?"

She nodded, just that movement feeling overwhelming for her body. "He's my husband."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Chris stared into her deep blue eyes, that were filled with a combination of confusion and anger. The confusion because her brow was furrowed like it always did when she was thinking. And the anger because her eyes seemed to burn into him, and her lips were pursed in a tight line that he was sure she was going to use to skewer him.

Her lips moved. A stain of dark red on her lips as she said, "He's my husband." All he wanted to do was put his lips on hers. To drink the stain that might as well be her blood off of her lips. To send his tongue to find hers. It had been so long since he had kissed her.

The old man reached down and whispered something in her ear. Remember that spot right behind her ear that drives her wild everytime you kiss it.

Lorelai broke contact with him to look up at the old man and said, "I don't think I can… He's…"

All the man had to do was reach back into his pocket and pull out the money. Chris watched as she looked at it, and then she looked at him. "Where the hell did you get this much money, Christopher?"

But he didn't want to discuss this. He stood up from his barstool and walked over to the owner of the bar, and he said, "Sir, I didn't pay to come into this establishment, get drunk, and be insulted and interrogated by your…" he hesitated just to make Lorelai angry with his loss of words… "… employees." He gestured to his wife as if she was nothing more than a piece of furniture, and said, "If you could kindly tell your help to do her job, I would be most appreciative."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lorelai was pretty sure she had never been so angry in her life. Just the fact that Chris would show up here was beyond her ability to understand. And after their conversation about what he thought of her and her work – she just clenched her fists at her side, the only way she could get out her anger. All she wanted to do was start cussing him out, scream at the top of her lungs at him, tell him how much he had hurt her by cheating.

But she couldn't do any of those things.

She was at work, where a crazy stripper yelling at a customer would sentence her to a fate she didn't want to think about. She would be fired, especially after Chris had paid Oscar the money, and then her mind fled to the story about the girl that morning who had refused to serve her boyfriend – Lorelai knew she couldn't do what she wanted to do. She had to think about what her job was. And why she was here at her job. For her kids. For her ability to be free from the monster that was her husband.

Chris walked over to one of the chairs at one of the tables. And he sat down, spread his legs, and looked at her with lust that she hadn't seen before. Her stomach churned. She knew what she was supposed to do. She knew her job was to get between his legs and simulate him having sex with her. And from the evil look in his eyes, he knew what her job was too.

She felt Oscar behind her now, and he whispered into her ear, "Three minutes, Lorelai. Three minutes or your whole job?" There it was. You're going to lose your job if you don't do your job.

And she knew what she had to do. She stepped forward. She was standing right at his knees, where they were spread open for her.

And she knew what she wanted to do. This is the last time he's going to see me. I'm kicking him out tomorrow. And this is the last thing he's ever going to get from me. She looked down at her high heels, an ashamed look on her face, making him think that she was humiliated at what she was going to do.

The music started. And her eyes flew up to his. Her lips puckered up into a kiss. The thing about the lap dance is that it's just a tease. Every man wants more. And this was where Lorelai's revenge would come. He's never getting any more from me. Make him know what he's missing.

Bending over so her head was at crotch level, she set each hand on his knees, curling her fingers around his kneecaps that were covered by his jeans. Still staring into his eyes, she began to sway her body to the music, starting with her hips, and she let her ass cascade to just above the dirty ground. In a squat position right in front of her customer, she slowly slid her arms forward on his thighs, letting her fingers round as they went forward, stopping only centimeters away from where Lorelai knew something was about to grow. Her hands were out in front of her, and she pulled her body along the inside of this legs, making sure her hips ground against the his jean walls just a little bit with each inch that she lifted from the ground.

Her head was now right by where his would soon be. Biting her bottom lip, she guiltily looked up into his eyes, which were glazed over – all the sign of power that he had earlier was now overtaken with complete astonishment. A look that Lorelai had seen from almost every man she had ever danced for. She let her eyes again obviously look at his growing bulge in his pants, and then back up into his eyes, but this time, she licked her lips and watched as his mouth fell open. Like taking candy from a baby. This was her place. Her work. She knew what she was doing. Who did he think he was coming in here and trying to make her feel bad about herself? She would show him.

Using her hands to create pressure against his dick and to balance her body from the inside of his thighs, she pushed her lace bra up against his lower abdomen, slowly slithering her body up his, making sure to take her time and drive him insane. When her face came into contact with his neck, she set her chin into the crook of his neck. Nuzzling him, she let a very soft moan escape her lips, making sure let her breath tickle his skin. Now it was his turn to groan as he moved his head to rest against her face. And she just pushed herself up a little bit farther, and extended her neck, and breathed into his ear, "Fuck" right before she let her tongue graze his earlobe. She smirked when her hands felt something pushing against where they were resting on his crotch. It's just too easy.

Taking her hands up and over him, she ran her hands up his lower abdomen up to his chest. Her knee was now up against his crotch, and as she danced her way into a complete standing position, she made sure that her kneecap ran along his covered dick almost constantly. Moving her hands up his neck to his jawbone, she brought his face to directly look at her breasts that were right in front of his eyes. When she was sure he was focused, she placed her hands on each shoulder, and then she skillfully lifted her legs up and on each side of the chair, so she was straddling his waist, his jeans and her small thong the only thing separating them.

Using her hands on his shoulders to raise her up, she would then thrust her hips down, causing his covered dick to fit perfectly against her crotch. Over and over again, each time going down farther. She watched as his eyes started to close in ecstasy, but she wasn't going to let him out of this with only that. Grabbing his hands from where they were holding the chair, she placed each one on her breasts, and his eyes opened wide and found her chest right in front of him. Because she was thrusting up and down, he got the feeling of her tits bounding along with the flow of her body.

It took all of her strength to keep from mocking his lack of control when his hips would thrust up against her, and she could tell from his face that he was pretty close to finishing this off here soon. But she wasn't finished.

Taking one of his wrists in each of her hands, she lifted his hands off of her, and then she quickly let go of his hands, and turned, so now her ass was up against his cock. Then she reached behind her and set his hands on her hips. And then she started to shake her hips at him all the while grinding down against his dick. Up and down. Side to side. Turning her head so she was looking back at him, she caught his gaze and held it while she went up and down. She lifted her eyebrows up just as she pushed her ass down, feeling cock against her, and she held it down there, swaying her hips side to side. Another moan escaped his lips, this time her name was on his tongue.

Knowing she had only a few more seconds before her allotted three minutes were up, she wanted to take her revenge. And by take her revenge, she meant to make him want her so much more than he already did. And what she was about to do was not something she would normally do with a customer. No, this was reserved for the asshole who would soon be her ex-husband. This was going to drive him insane. And she was excited to see what he did at the end of this next trick.

Stepping her legs back between his, she crouched down one more time to the ground, and she maintained eye contact with him as she brought her head closer and closer to his what was probably very uncomfortable bulge in his pants. He was looking at her with eyes wide, unsure of what she could do to him now after pretty much humping him. But she watched as his eyes got even wider and his mouth dropped open as she opened her mouth and let her tongue come out, hanging out over her bottom lip. Both of his hands grabbed onto the sides of the chair, almost anchoring him in as she moved her head closer and closer to him. And his hips physically jumped toward her face when her tongue made contact with his jean covered cock. Just the little touch made him moan and cry out her name yet again. But she didn't stop there. She traced her tongue all over his dick, feeling the pulsing through his jeans. Just as the time she knew went off, she pulled her tongue in, turned her head to the side, and ran her open lips along the length of the bulge – and she knew if she went more more inch he would come right there in his pants.

And that was her revenge. The one inch.

Because she stopped, before the inch, and stood to her feet, now standing above him looking down at his closed eyes and pained face. A face that was in need of such release. A release that he would have to find somewhere else because he wasn't getting anything more from her. Ever.

And she waited until his eyes searched for and found hers, looking up at her with begging eyes. "Lorelai, I…"

She leaned down so her mouth was right by his ear, and she breathed quietly, "Go fuck yourself, Christopher."

He just pleaded, "Please just…" She knew he wanted to ask her to finish with him, to go somewhere and let him fuck her one more time, or even just suck his dick for him. "One last time?" He breathed out.

She actually laughed. Out loud. In his face. Then she stood up and said, "You're moving out." Confusion spread on his face, and she said, "You didn't think I would let you stay in my apartment that I pay rent for – you didn't think I would be ok with you fucking other women in my house, did you?"

His mind was nowhere on their living situation. His mind was in his pants. And she knew it was torturing him to sit there and listen to her after what she had just done to him. And that made it even better as she said, "If I were you, I would get your dick taken care of here soon because when I get home, anything of yours that is still in my apartment is getting thrown out the window or burned." The thought of him with another woman on their couch with her husband made her add, "Burning the stuff would clear the house of germs from your whore you had in the house."

And then he found his voice, "Lor, I'm not going to leave you. I am going to try and be a good husband and…"

"If you are in the apartment when I get there…" she looked down at his crotch and said, "… you won't have to worry about condoms with your new lover." Fear flew to his face, and he looked down at his dick too. she continued, "In fact, you probably won't have to worry about a lover at all. There will be no dick left for them to love on."

And with that, she turned and walked away with such sexiness, that she had three men from surrounding tables call to her and ask for her to come over to them and give them a dance. She just nodded, telling them that she would be right with them after her break. Then she walked over to Oscar, who also had his mouth open in amazement and amusement.

She held out her hand, and he set the money in her hand. She looked back at Chris, and made sure he was looking at her as she puckered her lips up, and blew him a kiss. And then she gave him the finger. And she walked away. And never looked back.