Chapter 1

She was watching Pam's act from backstage, keeping an eye on the audience. Everyone watched out for each other here, if she saw someone about to grab at Pam or another girl, or try to climb on the stage, one signal to Louis or Jimmy Joe would have that man out of the club on their ass. Jimmy Joe was the head of the bouncers, the most obvious of them, and he ran a tight ship. Sure, some of the girls were cattier than others, and some of the bouncers none too bright, but it was a good place. She'd been able to move from the ratty hotel to a slightly better one that was more like a studio apartment in the nine months she'd stayed in Laughlin.

Marie glanced down the stage towards the doors and blinked as two (oh sweet Lord they were big) men walked into the club. One of them glanced at the stage and the doors leading behind it, nodding, though his eyebrows rose at the sight of the keypad locks. The other's eyes scanned over the bar and shelves of alcohol, moving towards one area first and then sliding over the rest of the stock until they came to rest on a different area. The first let his eyes rove over the walls, not lingering in any one place as if nothing he saw was a surprise. And the second turned his attention to the booths, tables and chairs before giving a slight shrug, as if his expectations had been exactly what he'd found. This was clearly familiar territory to them.

Maybe they typically came in on her off night? Or they'd been in town before she got here. They were both huge, one slightly larger than the other, with a crewcut and a long leather coat. The other was maybe an inch (possibly two) shorter but just as thickly muscled, his hair just as dark as the first but longer and wild, with muttonchop whiskers. He wore leather too, a brown jacket that reminded her of old-fashioned flight jackets.

They took seats close to the stage and ordered drinks (a waitress had practically run over to them), beer from the looks of things, and sat back. Eyes followed Pam's every move, lingering on her hips and legs, before sliding up to her breasts. A gulp of beer followed a particularly difficult spin on the pole and the taller of the two licked his lips, a wicked smile curving his mouth. The other leaned back in his chair and dug out his wallet, dropping several bills in the jar when he leaned forward again, eyes hot.

Other than to drop money in the jar, neither of them even reached for the stage. They stayed in their chairs, hands on their beers and simply watched. The slightly bigger one grinned at the other a bright gleam in his eyes and the man with the muttonchops laughed and shook his head at his friend. The lighthearted expressions took them both from good looking to disturbingly handsome.

Pam ended her act with a swivel of her hips and a teasing bow towards her audience and Marie handed her the pieces of her costume that had been tossed back towards the stage curtain. "Two new fellas watching you towards the end there," She commented as she tightened the straps on her heels.

"Yeah, saw 'em come in." Pam nodded as she began to check the pins on her wig. "You worried?"

Marie shook her head, "No. Just…a little odd to come in this late. Not unless they're halfway to fallin' down drunk."

"Hmm…" Pam considered that as Marie pulled on her costume. "They might be traveling. On their way to Vegas."

Her wig was on straight, the bright cobalt blue gave her skin a translucent look, even more pale than usual and the bangs hung over her eyebrows and shaded her eyes. "Seams straight?" She checked her stockings and garter belt.

Pam laughed, "They're not going to be watching the seams on your stockings. Go on."

With a trick of acoustics, a harsh inhale of breath, shocked into sound, reached her ears as she stood, posed to begin the dance, at the far end of the stage. Right before the music started and she began her strut down the near catwalk length stage, so she couldn't tell where (or who) it had come from.

Once the music started she could lose herself in the routine, in knowing exactly what step was next, when to sway her hips and what to strip off on every beat. When she tore open her top to show off a barely deserving of the name bra that did nothing to hide her breasts she heard what might have been a low groan and sounded more like a growl but in stereo. Weird.

She'd gotten bolder, more relaxed about hands sliding up her thighs to tuck bills into her garters and stockings, feeling safer on stage so scantily clad than she ever had on the floor and completely covered. Her top came off completely, her breasts no longer playing peekaboo, exposed to the air and she heard those twin groans again. Spin around the pole, hang by her legs for a brief moment before righting herself and rubbing against the metal between her thighs and against her body as if it were something to ride.

Sidle along it and brace her spine against the metal and off came the tease of a skirt. The thong was a nod to panties, three ribbons and the tiniest triangle of lace legally allowed. Slither up and down the pole swaying to the music and finally sink to her hands and knees.

Crawl to the edge of the stage and brace herself for the hands, spread her thighs and bend backwards until her body arched like a bridge before she pulled herself upright. Dance was better than a core workout for her abdomen. (Though she had invested in a pull up bar she could hang in a doorway for weight resistance training.)

Hands, carefully tucking bills into the g-string, not grabbing at her, or squeezing her thigh or hips, somehow respectful even in lust as she slowly swayed upward like a snake, hands clasped over her head.

Music nearly ending, time to bring the show to a close, balance on one knee and spin, bring herself to her feet and sway backwards in graceful retreat. One moment to acknowledge the hollering and hooting of the men who watched and wanted, blow them a kiss, and she was backstage again.

Don't count the money until she was back in her chair. Wipe off the sweat and then pull the money out of the garters, stocking tops and g-string. She stared for more than a minute as she realized that someone had tucked more than three hundred dollars into her stockings and thong.

Pam glanced at her, "Nobody got too handsy with you did they?" She asked while reapplying her eyeliner.

"Someone gave me three hundred dollars. Three one hundred-dollar bills…" Marie told her, still more than a little astonished. "Plus some twenties and tens."

"Lock that up honey," Pam advised. "And Yvette called in sick so Louis wanted to know if we could handle three shows each?" She nodded at the wigs they shared, "If we switch 'em up, maybe the customers won't notice the dances are reruns. Unless you want to use the third you've been holding back. Is it sharp enough?"

"It's decent, not as developed as the other two so it's a toss-up. Might have to keep it for another night. The last half of the night doesn't ever have the same guys as the first half anyway. Not often enough for it to be a problem," Marie agreed. "Want the pink ponytail? I used the blonde earlier." She had recently invested in a new wig of long straight black hair. They had seven wigs between the two of them now. The platinum blonde they shared, Pam's honey blonde, tousled fire engine red, and set of bright green curls along with Marie's blue, pink and now black wigs gave them a lot of variety.

"Yeah, if that's cool with you," The older dancer grinned. She looked towards the door as it opened a crack.

"Everybody decent in here," Louis's deep voice inquired.

"Decent hell, we're above average," Pam cracked as Marie pulled on another costume.

"Got two guys out there wanting to know if you're available for a lap dance Marie, private room and all," Louis got straight to the point. "They're willing to pay a grand if you'll do them both."

"At the same time?" Marie wasn't sure about that, she'd done a few lap dances before, and she'd made decent money, but it had always been one on one. And some of the men hadn't been the most controlled in the world either. Nothing she couldn't handle, especially knowing about the cameras that kept an eye on everyone, but it hadn't been comfortable either.

"They each want to watch you do the other one," Louis shrugged. "I told 'em it wasn't my call."

"You'll have an eye on the cameras," She tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Just like always," He nodded firmly. "Got Jimmy Joe to frisk 'em already, so you know they ain't got anything that could give 'em an advantage."

"All right," Marie pursed her lips. "They know the rules though, don't matter if one is only watching while the other gets the dance, nobody touches me but me?"

"I explained it to 'em, very thoroughly," Louis nodded again.

"I'll do it," Marie agreed after a moment. "Even after your twenty percent, that's still eight hundred dollars plus any tips." She bit her lip for a moment, "That could get me enough for a security deposit on a better apartment."

"Up to you," Louis assured her.

"Yeah, okay," Marie nodded as Louis shut the door again and began to clean up a bit more. "My eyes look okay still?"

Pam nodded, "You're good to go. Honey, they try anything, you scream bloody murder, I don't care how much hollering they do."

"If they can scream at all," Marie tapped her bare skin pointedly. Pam half smiled her understanding.

Lap dances weren't uncommon in the club. Lots of the girls did them. Some of them did lap dances exclusively, out on the floor, because they couldn't do the stage shows as well. Or they could get paid for a dance on the short miniature stages, squat columnar tables with a steel pole in the center. A bump and grind rather than a choreographed routine. A private dance though, in one of the back rooms, those came a lot more rarely and a lap dance in a private room rarer still. The men who frequented the club were hardly high rollers and the private rooms cost on top of what the dancers got paid.

The hallway had fabric drapes instead of doors, easier for Jimmy Joe and the other bouncers to get in if someone got handsy. And the rooms were clean too. Louis had shown her around during the day, lights up and glaring so she could see every exit and entrance. He kept an eye on his staff, his people, but he needed them to know how to make their own escape if there was trouble.

"They're in room two," Jimmy Joe told her from the hallway entrance. "No weapons on 'em."

"Thanks Jimmy Joe," Marie smiled at the burly man as she passed him. "I look okay?"

"Gorgeous as always Magnolia," He smirked.

"Aww… you're so sweet Jimmy Joe," Marie winked at him and put an extra sway in her hips as she walked.

The private rooms, eight by ten spaces draped with thick curtains to hide the door, softly glowing can lights, weren't unfamiliar to her. But she'd worked in the club for a while. Her hands slid through the seam of the closed curtains, parting them and Marie paused, considering the two men in front of her with a tilt of her head. She'd only seen one or two men in her life the size of these two. Tall, wide shouldered and packed with enough muscle to move a Mack truck. They loomed in the twilight space like giants and the small room's walls drew in, almost claustrophobic, barely containing these two huge men.

Hot eyes, grey and hazel/green, turned towards her simultaneously and their gaze hit like a hot weight on her skin, low and aching in her stomach. "You boys wanted a dance?" She took a breath and forced the words past her lips, like half remembered dialogue from an old play.

"Yeah," The shorter of the two (not that he was short, just not quite as tall as his friend) nodded. "Yeah we did."

"One for each of us," The taller one added, those strange almost silver eyes scanned her body. That voice… somehow like the hazy memory of a childhood song in its familiarity. Odd.

"And you boys know the rules?" She turned and shut the drapes behind her before looking at each of them again. "You understand there's no touchin', even if we are in a private room."

"Yeah, we got that," The bigger one nodded.

Marie let her eyes move over the two of them for a moment, narrowed and far from inexperienced. This was her turf and Louis had made it clear that she didn't have to put up with any shit, not from anyone, "Ya'll know there's cameras in here too? Break the rules an' Jimmy Joe'll get his guys an' toss the two of you out of the club." She put her hands on her hips and both of the men smiled as if pleased, for whatever reason. "I don't care how big the two of ya'll are, you'll be out of here. You got me?"

"We got you," The shorter fellow was still smiling.

"All right…" She took a couple steps forward, swaying her hips. "Who gets the first dance?"

Marie remembered her first days on the road. The way she'd felt the eyes of truckers hit her body, devouring any bit of exposed skin. The lewd expressions and eloquently crude gestures. She'd had classmates that might have enjoyed that sort of attention, playing with fire maybe, or just that confident that nothing would ever happen to them. She'd been grabbed, lust and hunger invading her mind, until she could twist away. She might not have wanted those men, but she knew the feelings of want. Felt that burning between her thighs, the aching of her breasts as her blood quickened with kisses and touches she'd received once or twice. Knew the sensation of her body clenching and growing wet with want. Lust. Desire. Need.

The walk to the dressing room was short and for all that she recalled it Marie might have been an automaton. No one commented (or no one saw her) so she must have looked composed enough. But when her ass hit her chair it was all she could do to breathe. Getting a glass and filling it with cold water took three times as long with trembling fingers. Gulping it down did nothing to assuage the feelings overtaking her.

The bigger one, he'd said his name was Victor, had nodded towards the other and said his little brother Jimmy had won the coin toss for the first dance. At that, the slightly shorter one had rolled his eyes and said he wasn't little, and his name was either James or Logan, not Jimmy. Victor had rolled his eyes back at him and told him he could go back to calling him runt, but Jimmy seemed preferable. The amiable familial exchange had eased some of the nerves twitching in her belly over being alone in a room with these two very large men.

"Well Logan," Marie had given him a smile, channeling her sweetest teasing southern belle attitude. "Ya'll can call me Magnolia. And if you'll set yourself on that chaise right there, I'll give you your dance."

"Where d'you want me," Victor had watched her with a gleam of amber in those strange eyes. He must have guessed she was more nervous than she looked, "Neither of us want to scare you Magnolia." Why did his voice seem so familiar? It was going to bother her until she figured it out, but now wasn't the time to think about it.

"Well honey, if you'll have a seat in the chair, you'll get a view of my backside," Marie smiled a bit more genuinely. "Or you can stand behind the chaise."

"You mind if I move around a bit," He raised an eyebrow as he shrugged off the long leather duster he wore. His brother had already discarded his leather jacket on the hook beside the door.

Marie shook her head dumbly. Her corneas ached slightly, dry with air, and she realized she'd gone wide-eyed in shock at the sight before her. Both men wore teeshirts that fit tightly and did nothing to hide their muscles. Wide shouldered, broad chested, and muscles on top of muscles (on top of more muscles, her head would start spinning if she thought about it too long). "So long as ya'll don't touch, you can stand or sit where you like."

The grin that spread his lips tilted wickedly and she couldn't be sure, but she thought she caught a glimpse of fang. Not likely though. Her imagination was running wild, faced with these quite frankly gorgeous men. "Jimmy, sit your ass down." He ordered his brother and with a grumble of annoyance at being told what to do (really were all siblings like that?) Logan sat on the chaise.

Marie smiled and shrugged off the silky robe she'd pulled on over the (not really a bra) bra and thong and hung it on the hook beside Victor's long coat. Strange to see, incongruous, her colorful watercolor flower robe between the dark heavy leather coats. A press of the button next to the door started the music, and she swayed towards Logan.

"Dance ends when the music does, all right sugar?" She didn't quite drop to her knees, but she did bend and flip the blue hair out of her eyes to look up at him.

"Yeah, I got it," He'd spread his hands across the back of the chaise, gripped the wood tight and Marie smiled, slipping one heeled foot between his boots and rubbed her calf up and down his.

"You want a faster beat sugar? Or does slow work for you?" Marie had found herself preferring slow more than fast for a lap dance; it made what she was doing feel more like a dance instead of writhing designed to work a guy up.

"Whatever you want darlin'," His voice had gone hoarse, and she smiled as his gaze stayed fixed on her face while she straddled his thighs. The music came over the speakers, sultry and sweet in her ears and she smiled as she heard the first lines, 'I've been meanin' to tell you… I've got this feelin' that won't subside…I look at you and I…fantasize…you're mine tonight...'

"Hmmm…" Marie pressed her body to his, rolling her hips against his zipper and barely kept herself from shivering. He was already hard as a rock under the denim. "I like slow better…" She smiled a bit, "You comfortable sugar? Need to make any…adjustments?" She nodded at his crotch. "Need to unzip and move things around?"

"That ain't a good idea," She'd never had someone watch her like this. His eyes skimmed over her body, but they always returned to her eyes. Like he wanted to devour the sight of her, gobble her up and keep going. And she knew without looking, could practically feel it, his brother's eyes watching her the same way. The two of them, those eyes on her, she could feel her blood quickening.

"You sure sugar?" She rubbed her breasts over his chest, draping her arms around his neck. "I can pull back, give you a minute?"

"Don't wanna stop feeling you even for a minute," He told her bluntly.

Victor's low wicked laugh sounded from over her shoulder, and she glanced at him to see his eyes hot on her back. "Neither of us got anything but skin under our jeans sweetness."

Marie blinked and blushed pink. "Oh," She ducked her head. Mortifying, a stripper blushing. They must think she was an idiot. "Sorry."

"Fuck…" Logan's voice roughened with heat. "Vic, look at that blush." For a bare moment his gaze left her to flick over at his brother. "You ever see anything so fuckin' sexy in your life as her blushing?"

"Hell no," The words came out as a growl crossed with a groan. "Fuckin' perfect."

Heat rushed to Marie's face, undoubtedly turning her cheeks pinker, as she undulated her hips against Logan's and shivered at the feel of him pressing hard against the lace of her thong. "Ya'll're doin' it to me," She made the excuse as she arched her back and let herself lean backwards, mirroring the move she'd made on stage and shimmying so her breasts shook a bit as she straightened again.

"That ain't all we want to do to you," Victor's voice, that rasping undertone felt like it touched her skin.

"Oh," She pressed against Logan again, feeling her breasts swelling, nipples tightening and felt him inhale against her. "You got ideas too sugar?" She asked him.

"Way too many," He groaned as she shivered against him. "You feel so damn good darlin'."

He felt good too, way too good against her, the hard ridge of him between her thighs. The urge to rub against him like a cat in heat, undeniable. She ached to feel his skin against hers and that was a first. Wanted Victor's eyes on her while she touched his brother. "Hmm…" She slid her fingers into that thick, soft hair at his nape and held him still for a moment, "You're doin' real good sugar." Gently press his skull forward, borrowed strength flaring through her body for a moment as she undulated against him and pressed upward. "You just hold real still a moment all right?" She wouldn't usually do this, but her instincts told her she could trust these men and her instincts had rarely been wrong since Liberty Island.

"Fuck yes," Logan practically froze in place as she lifted her body so his face, his lips and whiskers, rubbed over the delicate skin of her breasts and aching nipples. "Oh my god," He stared at her as she sank back down onto him, her hips rolling against the stiff cock under his jeans.

"Jimmy, you are the luckiest sonofabitch on the fuckin' planet," Victor's voice had gone hoarse.

"And I know it," Logan groaned, his body stiffening slightly as she pressed against him, hips twitching faster of their own accord as her own breathing quickened. "I'd kill to suck on those pretty tits."

"Don't go misbehavin' now sugar," Marie brushed her lips over his jaw and caught his earlobe in her teeth, tugging gently. "You don't want me to stop do you?" She shivered against him and wondered again what it was about these two. Lap dances did nothing for her usually (not for any other dancer she knew either), being more about getting the customer worked up. No one ever looked at her face, just her body. But these two…

"Fuck no," He groaned. "Darlin', God…"

"Hmm… you gonna come for me sugar," Marie practically purred in his ear. "You gonna let me feel that? Your body, strainin' for it, that rush of heat? C'mon sugar… let me feel that from you. Hips movin' to mine, until you just can't take anymore?" She wasn't supposed to actually encourage any client to orgasm. Another first, talking like this, truly wanting to know she'd driven him to climax. Craving it. She pressed down harder, stifled her own moan at the feel of him and was rewarded with a guttural groan of need.

"Give her what she wants Jimmy," His brother's voice was a harsh snarl of command, hands coming down onto his brother's, holding him in place on the chaise. "Show her, how much you want her."

"Fuck," Logan gasped as she mewled into his ear and looked up into Victor's eyes. "Darlin' you smell so good… I don't think I could stop."

"Don't stop sugar," Marie crooned, rubbing her hands over his shoulders and arms. "Do you want it harder? Closer? Tell me sugar."

"Unghh…" He groaned, "Let me feel you. Your nails on my skin, somethin' darlin'."

Marie smiled and scraped her teeth over the curve of his ear, pushing her hand down the back of his shirt and deliberately scraping her nails up and down his spine as far as she could reach. His groan of release rose to a near roar that he stifled against her shoulder, hips jolting to hers desperately.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," He groaned, and she smiled, petting his hair as the music wound down. "Darlin'…"

"Thank you sugar," She'd pressed a kiss to his jaw. "There's tissues an' a little sink behind that curtain over there if you want." She nodded towards the corner opposite the coat hooks and smoothed his hair back once more before lifting her body off of his. Yeah technically guests weren't supposed to finish, but the reality was the reason for that little alcove. And the phrase 'almost gentleman's club'.

Victor released his brother's wrists and Logan shuddered once before he stood and damn near stumbled to the corner with the sink. "Damn sweetness," Victor smiled wickedly. "You got two of those in you?" He rounded the chaise and sat down, deliberately stretching his arms over the back.

Marie smirked at him, "Oh honey, I'm just gettin' started." She watched as he adjusted himself in his jeans, unashamed and matter of fact, pink touching her cheeks again.

"Women generally do have more stamina than men," He chuckled and glanced at his brother as Logan came out from behind the curtain and sat in the chair opposite them, legs sprawled out, eyes bright hazel, nearly golden behind heavy lids. "Ain't that right Jimmy?"

"Vic, my brain still don't got all the blood it needs to work," He was informed bluntly. "What?"

Marie tilted her head and stretched a moment before she moved towards the switch on the door, resetting the music (and the timer), "Sugar, that ain't news." She swayed back over to Victor and noticed that he'd spread his knees wide for her. She was willing to bet he'd enjoy her slithering up his legs, breasts rubbing all over him on her way to straddling him. "After all, the good Lord gave men a cock an' a brain, but not enough blood to use both simultaneously."

That got Victor chuffing with laughter, and she grinned at him teasingly. "Now honey, you wanna tell me what you like?" She arched her back and rubbed her breasts over his thighs, her face right over his crotch, which gave a decided twitch under the denim fly.

"Whatever you want to do sweetness," That smile, like a cat laughing, as he looked down at her, hungry and tempted. "But if you want to rub that gorgeous ass over my dick I won't ever turn you down."

"Ohhh…" She smirked at him. "You more of a leg an' ass man?" She nodded over at Logan, "And your brother is into tits and hips?" Once she might have blushed over her language. Wouldn't have even been able to say tits or ass without feeling embarrassed. But she'd toughened up since her parents kicked her out. Language was the least of the changes she'd gone through. And there were men, like these two apparently, who appreciated a sweet face and the contrast of her cursing, found it titillating.

"Ain't that at all," Victor's smile grew wider as she swiveled and began to rub up and down between his thighs as if his fly was the pole on stage. "Just love watchin' you move sweetness." He inhaled deeply as she turned and shimmied in front of him. His hips were wider than his brothers, not by a lot, proportionate to his shoulders really, but just enough that she had to adjust her stance before she straddled him. "And you smell like heaven."

"You like my perfume honey," Marie rolled her hips against his and bit her lip to hold back a moan. The hard bulge of his cock rubbed right against her clit. Touching Logan had gotten her worked up, against all odds and prior experience, and now Victor…she'd overheat like an old boiler if she didn't calm herself down.

"I like how your skin smells," That voice, so close to her, rolling over her skin like a caress. "I like how you feel against me." Those eyes, grey with gold behind them. Like a misty field at dawn. "I love how your blush turns your cheeks pink." He groaned as she undulated her hips against his fly. "That's it sweetness, rub that pretty pussy over my dick. Push those tits against my chest like you're going to ride me hard."

Who was seducing who here? Marie took a deep breath trying to get her heartrate down. "If that's what you want honey," She began to push harder against him, rubbing her breasts up and down his chest. "You like my nails too? Or you'd rather feel my hands in your hair?"

"If I hold still like Jimmy, behave myself, you gonna rub those sweet, puckered tits against my mouth?" He growled the question like a command and Marie shivered in reaction.

"You want that honey?" She pushed her body up a bit and he nodded, licking his lips and all she could think of how they'd feel sucking on her nipples. Another shiver and she could have sworn his eyes flared gold.

"I want that more than I want my next goddamn breath," He licked his lips again and Marie nodded, breathless, rising up on her knees to give him the same treatment she had Logan. Damp lips, moisture on her nipples, a sharply indrawn breath that teased with sensation and she moaned in reaction.

"That's what I want," Victor growled against her skin as she carefully pulled away. "I want your moans sweetness." He stared down at her as she sank down onto him, her hips twitching with need. "I want to feel you come on me. I want that sweet honey of yours to stain the front of my jeans like you did Jimmy's."

"Ooohh…" Marie shuddered again and rolled her hips to his harder, need driving her more than intellect as he muttered in her ear.

"Hang onto me sweetness, use me to get yourself off," He ordered, and she moaned again, unable to stop herself from obeying. "That's what I want to see, to feel."

"So damn beautiful," Logan's voice behind her, moving to sit on the edge of the chaise, not close enough for her to brush against him but easily able to see her.

"I shouldn't be," She shook her head, trying to regain control. She felt like she could vibrate out of her skin with the heat of what the two of them had lit in her. "This is about you."

"Seeing you…" Victor's voice, like temptation itself. "That's what'll do it for me. Feeling you come. Do what feels good to you, sweetness." Hard and hot and so good between her thighs, that muscled chest against hers, those eyes, both of them, staring at her and she arched her back, pressing her breasts harder to Victor's chest, grinding against him. "So good," He praised her. "Lift up again sweetness, rub those tight nipples over my face again."

Next to impossible to not obey, to deny him, deny herself, what she needed, and those warm lips teased her again, sending shivers over her skin until she was trembling against him and moaning as she rolled her hips to his. "Oh…ohhh…oh…" She moaned, opening her eyes, hadn't realized she'd closed them as she undulated almost frantically over his denim covered cock. "Victor…will you come for me?" She knew she was begging, didn't care anymore.

"Can you, sweetness?" The question came out as a groan as his hips moved minutely against hers. "Are you gonna come for me? Give me that honey?"

"I…" Marie shuddered. "I don't know…" She pressed closer and clutched at his shoulders, "Please… I want to feel you Victor." Press her mouth to his neck, lick up his ear and mewled into it as another shudder caught her unaware. "Unghh…honey… please…"

"Fuck!" He roared without warning into her neck, his entire body stiffening with hot tremors and she moaned at the feel of him thrusting against her, the sensation of heat and damp changing the texture of the denim he wore. Panting, chest heaving against hers, his body moving hers as easily as a piece of down. "Fuck…sweetness…" He raised his eyes to hers, licking his lips. "I'd pay another grand to see you lie on this chaise and touch yourself."

Marie wasn't sure if the sound that emerged from her throat was a moan or a sob, "Ain't that illegal?"

"Probably," Logan's voice was hoarse, and she took a deep breath, straightening her spine before she looked at him. "Not sure I'd care much."

"Private rooms got cameras," Marie reminded them with a shaky smile. "To keep all of us girls safe." She drew in another breath as the music ended. "An' I really don't wanna get arrested if it's all the same to ya'll." Her 'dismount' was a little shakier than usual and she took a step back and sat on the chair Logan had vacated.

"No, I don't think any of us would enjoy that." Victor agreed as he pushed himself up off the chaise and went to the drapery covered corner with the sink.

"What time you work until?" Logan asked as he fetched her robe from the hooks.

"I'm closin' the place down," Marie smiled. "Granted, I'll need a few minutes before my next performance to chill out."

"Then so're we," Victor announced as he emerged from the corner. He looked at her thoughtfully, a smile curving his lips before he glanced at his brother, "Fun as this was, it ain't fair to her."

"Yeah," Logan nodded, that same funny half smile stretching his mouth. "But I'd still pay good money to see her dance in private."

"You two are…interesting," Marie pulled on the short silky sheer robe as she stood. As amazing as they were, handsome, strong and (most importantly in her mind) polite, they'd be moving on soon enough. "Now, if ya'll excuse me?"

She'd given them her sweetest smile and gotten twin devilish grins in return before she slipped out of the room.

And gulped down a glass of ice water when she got back to the dressing room. Contemplated dumping another glass on her skin before deciding it wouldn't help. Concentrated on breathing evenly. She wasn't sure if it would be good or bad when the two of them moved on.

Pam eyed her a bit strangely as Marie rushed into the dressing room and began to wind her hair up into the crown of braids that would help keep her wig anchored. "Honey, are you all right?"

"Just running late," Marie grinned at her. "You?"

"You've been…different the last couple weeks," Pam applied her mascara as if it were life and death. "Ever since those guys paid a grand to have you give them both lap dances." What she didn't mention, what went without saying, was 'those guys' were a constant fixture in the club. And whenever time allowed they paid for Marie to give them private dances. Though they weren't lap dances. The two of them had 'discussed' the subject but decided that they didn't like getting her worked up when they weren't allowed to satisfy her. Odd, and weirdly sweet, and the two of them showed no signs of growing bored or moving on. "Honey, you haven't been in this business long, but it can attract some…weirdos."

"Like the one who came in with the snake and begged for us to hold it while he took pictures," Marie shook her head. Louis had to muster the bouncers because Jimmy Joe found snakes of all kinds to be both terrifying and repulsive.

"That's mild honey," Pam shook her head. "We've had girls need restraining orders." She looked over at the younger girl as she finished her lashes, "Do you even know their names?"

Marie smiled, "I know their names." She began to tug on the fuchsia wig. "Pretty good crowd out there tonight," She changed the subject. "Been busy?"

"Lotsa requests for lap dances," Pam nodded. "Must have some sorta circus travelin' through."

Pins to make sure the wig stayed in place, tight to her skull, and she began to pull on her costume, such as it was. "Saw a couple of buses, got the name of some fancy travel agency on the side," Speaking carefully she traced the curves of her lips with a pencil. "I don't think it's family oriented."

"Jimmy Joe and Louis are gonna have their hands full," Pam sighed as she pulled on the platform heels that added four inches plus to her height.

"Let's hope the tips are good," Marie agreed and tugged on the wig to make sure it would hold firm.

"Sweetie…just be careful of them, all right?" Pam eyed her sideways.

"Pam, they don't even know my name," She reminded the older woman. "I know theirs but all they have is my stage name."

"As long as you're being safe," Pam sighed as she pulled on her costume.

"Safe as can be," Marie winked at her. "I'm going to grab us some waters."

Pam nodded and stood as Louis announced her. "That's me. See you in a bit."

"Break a leg," The younger girl called as she headed out the back door.

She could hear Pam's music as she rounded the back of the stage and headed down the curtained hall of private rooms to the main floor of the club. Flashing lights made strange shadows in the hall as usual. Jimmy Joe's broad shoulders outlined on the other side of the curtain door and Marie grinned, ready to call a greeting to the head bouncer.

The hard hand on her upper arm and forearm wrapping around her waist shocked a startled cry from her throat as a big form smelling of beer, onions and garlic pulled her into one of the rooms. "Lookie what I got boys!" She was spun into the middle of the room, nearly stumbling in her heels. Three, no, there were four, faces, slightly familiar but none of them regulars.

"Jimmy Joe!" Marie wasn't ashamed to say she hollered the man's name at the top of her lungs.

"Hey now, we just wanna dance," One of the men cajoled drunkenly.

"You wanna dance, you pay for a dance," Marie put her hands on her hips angrily. Where the hell was Jimmy Joe or the other bouncers? (Any of them, she wasn't feeling choosy.) "Which you ain't. And you put hands on me, which'll get you thrown outa the club faster'n you can spit." She scowled at them, none of them looked the least bit repentant. "Jimmy Joe! Louis!" She shouted again and got an ugly sneer from the one who'd dragged her in.

"What're you too good to dance for us?" He looked her up and down, "You oughta be nicer to your betters."

Oh, she'd had just about enough of this shit. "I don't have to dance for anyone I don't choose," She snapped at him. "And if you don't get out of my way, you're going to find out just how dangerous I can be."

"Whadda ya think you're gonna do," Another of the men snorted a laugh. "Lecture us to death?"

Marie sighed, "And to think someone was warning me to be careful of other guys." She swayed up to the idiot who'd dragged her into the room, the one still blocking the door, and fluttered her eyelashes at him. "Sweetheart, if you want a dance, you gotta sit down so I can turn on the music."

"Bullshit," He smirked. "Why don't you just strip, and we'll figure out our own entertainment."

"No, I don't think so," Marie shook her head and punched him in the crotch with all her strength, including some she'd borrowed from the animal mutant who'd saved her life. The creep crumpled like dirty laundry, and she darted past him.

A hand on her ankle and she fell, for the first time cursing the stockings that kept people safe from her skin if her control slipped. Kick out with her free foot and someone howled in pain as a sharp heel connected; she heaved herself up and nearly careened off the walls as she ran (stumbled) the last few door lengths out to the main floor.

Jimmy Joe wasn't on the door anymore (which explained why he hadn't heard her yell). And Louis wasn't behind the bar. Everyone was dealing with another ruckus on the other side of the club. And the creeps were tumbling out of the curtain door behind her. Move Marie. Thank God that she'd learned to run in heels. Easier than it sounded really. And she could get to the stage faster than they could.

Pam wasn't on stage anymore, not that Marie blamed her. Any front of the house violence meant all the servers and dancers were to get to the back of the house as fast as they could so no one could hurt them in all the mess. Just her bad luck that the easiest way to the back of the house was through the creeps who'd grabbed her.

Other side of the club, a little too close to the fracas but beggars couldn't be choosers, was the other door backstage. No private rooms back there, just the storerooms.

Nothing to be done. Marie began to push her way through the crowd, making liberal use of any helpful mutation she held besides her own, to get through the mess.

"Magnolia," The hand on her shoulder registered before the voice and she spun around swinging for a male's most vulnerable area.

Victor, quicker than she was, grabbed her wrist before she could punch Logan in the balls, and Marie sighed in relief. "What're you doin' out here sweetness?" He and Logan had been in the club enough to know what should happen when a fight broke out.

"Some asshole grabbed me on my way down the hall to the bar," Marie huffed in irritation. "And because of this mess Jimmy Joe didn't hear me yell for him. I punched one of them in the crotch and got past him but," She belatedly realized that her hip, elbow and thigh would likely be bruised to hell because now that she was standing still all those locations hurt like a bitch. "Either he or one of the others grabbed my ankle and I body slammed the floor. I kicked him and he let go but…" She gestured to the mess.

"Jimmy, you take Magnolia," Victor ordered. "I'll clear a path to the door." Before she could argue, or point out that she'd been doing fine, Logan had scooped her up in a bridal carry and Victor was impartially shoving anyone in the way out of their path to the storeroom hall.

Marie sighed and reached out to key in the employee code to let her in the locked area from Logan's arms since he showed no sign of setting her on her feet. To her surprise the two of them weren't content to let her go inside on her own. Victor scanned the hallway as the door opened, Logan carried her in, and Victor shut the door firmly behind them.

"You all right," Victor's voice had more of a growl to it than usual and Logan still wasn't putting her down.

"I'm fine," Marie sighed. "I shoulda known when I saw those buses that there'd be trouble."

Logan tilted his head, "Yeah, I hear sirens. So, the cops are on their way."

"Hell, I won't make any money tonight," Marie shook her head. "Damnit." Louis had a policy of shutting the club down for the night if the cops had to be called. Business wouldn't really pick up again with a police presence (even if they weren't the morality police) and the cops were far too inclined to want free dances and drinks.

"In that case," Victor smiled in that wicked way of his. "Want to get some dinner?"

Marie smacked Logan on the shoulder, "Put me down." When he did so, with a reluctant sigh, she stared at the two of them. "You're asking me out?" She clarified. "Or…what?"

"We're asking you out," Victor rolled his eyes. "Both of us."

"And you want me to what?" Best to have it spelled out very clearly. She had enough problems without romantic misunderstandings.

"Date both of us," Logan answered after exchanging a look with his brother. "At the same time."

"Okay, call me stupid but I don't get it," Marie leaned against the wall, absently rubbing the hip that was no doubt bruising already.

"We're, uh…unique," Logan rubbed the back of his neck as if uncomfortable.

"Look, just come out to dinner with us, no strings, and we'll explain it," Victor had a way of asking/ordering that might be irritating if he wasn't so matter of fact about everything. On some men it might come off as highhanded but on Victor it was just part of him.

"All right," Marie frowned at the two of them. "Let me go put on something that's fit for the outdoors."

"Can we watch," Oh yeah, there was the Victor who had no trouble saying what he wanted.

"Nope," She rolled her eyes and headed back to the dressing room, doing her best to not limp. "Stay here."

Pam grabbed her when she got into the dressing room, "Honey are you okay? Nobody knew where you were."

"Some jerks grabbed me going down the hall to the bar," Marie shook her head and examined her hip. "Shit. I'm gonna have bruises." She began to pull off her costume, grabbing her street clothes and purse out of the locked drawer.

"Are you all right," Yvette asked from the other side of the room.

"Yeah," Marie sighed as she changed into the cute but simple cotton panties and bra before she pulled on her jeans. "I've gotta tell Louis though before I leave."

"You don't think we're opening up again tonight?" Lisa asked as she straightened the sassy black wig she wore.

"Cops are here," Marie shook her head. "You know what that means." The chorus of displeased groans she got in response said they did, and she regarded her reflection with the bright fuchsia ponytail for a moment. "I'm gonna end up wearing this wig home I think."

"Don't wanna talk to the cops without it?" Pam narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

"Also, gotta deal with the jerks who grabbed me," Marie reminded her. "Easier to do that when they're looking at me like they think I'm a whore you know? That seemed to be their attitude anyway. And this keeps 'em from maybe recognizin' me in the future."

"Uh huh," Pam didn't quite believe her, but Marie wasn't sure she could explain it herself.

Luckily the heels she'd worn into the club weren't quite as high as the stage shoes, but they were high enough to be dressy. And high enough that she'd be able to look some of the cops in the eye. A change of her earrings from big brassy hoops to small white enamel twists and she pulled on the knee length cardigan sweater she wore instead of a coat.

Logan and Victor were waiting for her in the hall still and she half smiled at them. "I gotta tell Louis about the guys who grabbed me. Point 'em out so he can ban them."

"We're right behind you," Logan nodded.

Author's Note: The guys have made their entrance and it seems they've a favorable impression. Thoughts?