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— And now, give it up for! — the host’s loud voice boomed, cutting through the hum of music and chatter in the smoke-filled air, drenched with sweat and whiskey. — The star of our club, the incredible, the stunning… Candy!
Goddamn it. Here we go again.
I took a deep breath and stepped onto the stage, feeling the spotlights burn into my skin. In that moment, I wanted to disappear, to vanish, to become something invisible—anything but this body, anything but this fucking woman I had become six months ago.
The music blasted, and I forced myself to move. My hips swayed to the rhythm, my tits subtly bouncing with each step. High heels—ones I had learned to walk in effortlessly by now—clacked against the stage in time with the beat. Everyone was watching me—men gripping their glasses, greasy smirks, hungry stares. Someone shouted something dirty, and my jaw clenched involuntarily. But I knew I had to keep going. Mike was watching.
He was always watching.
I slid along the pole, arching just enough to make my breasts look fuller, my hips wider. It was humiliating. It was fucking awful. But I had no choice. Mike sat in his favorite chair by the stage, wearing that same smile that made my skin crawl. A smile that said, I know what you’re going to do after this dance.
Did I know? Of course I fucking knew. The mere thought of his fingers gripping my hair while my mouth wrapped around his cock made me want to vomit! Jesus, what a goddamn nightmare! Almost every day now, I sucked off the man I hated, the man I once wanted to escape from when I was still myself—when I was a guy named Carl. Mike’s right-hand man. His most loyal, trusted person. The one who...