“Sometimes.”
“Anything else?”
“Yeah, did Mac give you the uniform?”
I cringe and pull the blue wad out of my jacket pocket.
“Perfect.” Daniel picks up the phone and dials a number. “Lorenzo, find Divan and send him up. New guy needs a tour.”
Holy. Shit.
* * *
Divan is a tall,good-looking, jacked black guy.
He’s also very mild-mannered, as far as I can tell. He’s shown me around the main room of the club, the VIP area, and the changing room. I get a locker to stash my stuff in, which is convenient, since I have to remove every stitch of clothing I have on. Once I change into my “uniform” I meet him in the hallway. I feel ridiculous, exposed, and chilly.
“Looks good.” He hits me on the arm. “Your first night is always the toughest, then you get used to it. How much do you press? Those biceps look solid.”
“Last time I checked, one eighty.” I adjust my junk. It feels like my dick is choking. “Are these things supposed to be so tight?”
“Yeah, and you’ll be thankful for the snugness later.” He laughs.
“Why is that?”
“Because you’re going to pop an erection sooner or later, and those babies are going to keep it in check.” He snaps my waistband.
Oh, for the love of all things holy.
“Wonderful.”
“Don’t knock it before you try it. Working here is the most fun you’ll have. Daniel is cool as shit, the money is good, and there are endless pieces of ass. Once you get over the stereotype, you’ll love it.”
He actually doesn’t make it sound half bad.
“You’re going to work the male revue tonight, then cash out and move upstairs to one of the main bars. After the show, the lower level closes unless there is a private party, which there isn’t tonight.”
“Okay.” I follow him through the club and then down a set of stairs. The room is dark with black leather furniture. Couches and chairs are set up in front of a small stage with a DJ booth behind it. There are two other guys behind the long bar adjacent to the stage. Both shirtless and wearing shiny blue briefs. Divan and I make our way behind the bar, and he introduces me.
“Ryan, this is Mike and Shayne.”
Mike shakes my hand; he’s a stocky, short guy with dark hair and dark eyes. Very muscular. Shayne, he’s lean and skinny with platinum blond hair and chiseled facial features. He reminds me of a model. I put my hand out to shake, but he just breezes by me and slaps me on the ass instead. “Fresh meat!” he announces flamboyantly.
In a flash I have him shoved up against the wall. “Touch me like that again, and it will be the last time you ever use your hands,” I seethe.
He looks at me like he’s about to shit himself.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Divan breaks us up. “We’re all friends here. Shayne was justbeing Shayne.He’s touchy-feely sometimes. But he’s harmless.” Divan throws him abehavelook.
“Be touchy-feely with someone else,” I growl.
Divan pries my death grip loose from Shayne, then pulls me aside. “You a homophobe or something, man?”
“No, I just have a problem with people touching me without my permission.” I try to shake off the memory of prison and all the advances made toward me.
“Well, you better get over that, because you’re going to get touched. A lot. Especially when you work here, by both men and women alike. Can you handle that?”
“Yes.” I shake out my hands and crack my neck. “I was just caught off guard.”