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03. We Meet Again

My mouth opened and closed. What? A new stripper? I did not tell Andrea I’d like to be one.

What kind of foolishness is this?

I did not sign for this.

I backed away since that was the only thing I know for now. It would be okay if I knew how to dance, but dancing was never my forte. When others see me dancing, the crowd would disperse, and I was afraid I would become the reason why the customers would leave.

“Are you or you not?” he asked, growing impatient at my hesitation. “If not, well, you will lose a lot of cash. The customers are willing to pay regardless of the amount as long as they will have a good time. Oh, god. She promised she would bring me one.”

I sucked my breath when I heard the word cash. My ears perk up. Cash was all I needed right now before the old man would kick me out of my apartment. And I shouldn't be choosy.

Gulping, I asked, "How much would you pay?"

I saw a stripper once, when I was watching videos from my social media accounts. And I stumbled upon a documentary about their life. The problem was, I wasn't able to finish that documentary.

Damn it. If I had known, I would have watched all the documentaries about strippers.

"Payment is not the issue, dear. There are a lot of tips."

"How about sex? Is that also required?"

"What do you think of this place? A brothel? Of course not. Unless you like that guy and are willing to be fucked without any money involved. It's up to you. But it's not necessary to give your body. All you will do is dance while stripping. Or you can do a striptease. I don't care as long as you give them a good time."

I played with my hands, debating if I should tell her my dilemma. However, in the end, I managed to be honest. "But...I don't know how to dance."

He gave me a pointed look. "Our customers did not care if you could dance or not. As long as they will give you the entertainment they deserve. Now go. Before I change my mind. You ask a lot of questions which will only delay the show even more."

"Where?"

"To the dressing room. Change your clothes. A couple of minutes from now and then you'll be the next one on the stage."

I gulped.

There will be no issues, right? And if men touch me without asking for my permission, I will chop off their hands and feed them to the crocodiles.

********

The dressing room was...messy. Clothes and underwear were everywhere. I found one woman staring at the mirror applying heavy makeup while she silently observed me rummaging through the pile of clothes.

There was a lot of sexy underwear which I could not stomach wearing and looked for another. Anything comfortable to wear. For the sake of earning some pennies.

I chose a fitted romper that had a cut in front showing my cleavage.

The stranger I talked to earlier suddenly peered inside, looked for me and when he found me, said, "Hurry up! Come on. You're next."

My blood went cold at her announcement.

"Wait? What? Wait… I am not ready yet!"

My voice died down when he suddenly dragged me backstage. He was mumbling something, but I did not fully listen as my heart was beating like crazy.

I peered at the stage. Someone was dancing. The men whistled, liking her dance, the sway of her hips, and the seductive movement of her body. It seemed like she was enjoying it, while I…I did not know if I could do it.

I stepped back, having the urge to run away, when the old man's face flashed in my memories, I stopped.

The smell of sex, cheap cologne and something nice (which overpowered every odor) wafted into the air. I wanted to look for that flowery smell but held myself. That scent was becoming familiar.

However, I still need to earn money. That scent can wait.

And without any preparations, the man just pushed me onto the stage. And was greeted by the expecting eyes of the men below.

Everything seemed to stop. The music. The dance. All eyes were tuned to me— the new woman who did not even know how to dance, but was desperate enough to be on the stage and humiliate herself for the sake of money.

The spotlight was focused on me while the audience area was dark.

I gulped.

At the back, I heard the man say I had to move. But my feet would not. My heart was hammering against my chest while I shouted at my mind to allow my body to move. For money.

A piece of sensual music played in the air.

Another man shouted. Urging me to dance. Then followed by the clapping of hands.

I closed my eyes and made it blank. Whatever. I had to do anything to live. And this piece of cloth I was wearing? It will be worth it when I receive my salary this evening.

So…I touched my hips and moved them to the right…and left…while the other one was playing with my lips with seduction.

Someone whistled.

Am I doing it right?

The smell of arousal was becoming more evident and this place was oozing with testosterone. Plus the smell of vanilla and flowery scent.

Who could that be?

I moved closer to the crowd, seemingly forgetting my embarrassment. What was running through my mind right now was how to identify the person who was the source of those smell.

Someone attempted to touch me from the audience, but using my hip, I pushed him aside. The man was not a bit repulsed by my actions but liked it. Some men liked it when women played hard to get.

I turned around still moving my hips to the rhythm of the music. My eyes darted through the crowd. I wanted to find the source of that vanilla scent.

Someone smacked my butt. I growled at him, making him fall back due to his surprise. I glared at him and secretly told the man I will cut off his hands if he ever does it again.

He retreated.

Another woman came out from backstage, wearing a two-piece. She was sexy as hell. The men went crazy. With their attention no longer at me.

I continued my search and dived into the crowd, dancing. The scent of vanilla was getting stronger until a pair of strong hands snaked around my waist and forced me to sit on something— a man's lap.

"My runaway Keira. I did not know we would meet in this kind of place."

I stiffened and slowly faced him—the source of the vanilla scent and came face to face with the alpha of Stonewind Pack. The pack where I came from.

"We met again, mate."

Alpha Lennox.

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