Читать книгу Club V - Jessa James - Страница 8

The music from the club throbbed and made its way out onto the street where I stood, pausing to catch my breath before making my way into work. The alleyway stank of stale cigarette smoke and worse, something stinking in one of the dumpsters nearby. I gagged a little and steeled myself as I moved toward the door, not ready to end my break just yet. I couldn't put a finger on why I was feeling the way I did that day, but I was anxious about going into work that night and somewhere in the pit of my stomach it seemed like something was just a little…off.

"You never have to do anything you don't want to," I said to myself, sure that I must look like some kind of a lunatic as I stood outside of the club and tried to think of a reason not to go in. There were far too many reasons that I had to be there. If I ever wanted to finish college I was going to have to keep up things at my job. It wasn't the sort of work I had always dreamed of doing, but it was paying the bills, keeping food on the table, and whenever my schooling was all done I would be one of the few people I knew who wasn't weighted down under a pile of student loans. The club paid me well for the work I did, which made it all a little easier to deal with — and it was certainly better than the dozen or so waitressing jobs I had picked up through the end of high school and start of college.

And if I was totally honest with myself, I knew that it was all a necessity. My parents couldn’t afford to send me to college and if I wanted to continue my education and have a career I was going to have to fund it all myself. If they had been able, I knew my parents would have paid for my schooling, housing, and everything else that came along with college life in a heartbeat, but we just didn’t have that kind of lifestyle. My mom had been a secretary at the same law firm since after my younger brother was born. He was only 17 now and she certainly had not been working long enough to work up to any kind of retirement. She joked that she would still be sitting behind the same desk at Keller, Lawson, Waterman, and Keller when she was 75, but deep down I prayed that it would not be the case for her. Money was too tight and she and my dad did everything they could, but I didn’t want to see her working into her golden years.

My dad had been in business for himself since he was very young. He was a mechanic and had started off at one of the local garages in town before working his way up and saving enough to buy his own garage and go into business for himself. It was a successful business and he was a great mechanic, doing the kind of work that made people want to come back to him. He had to have been one of the few honest mechanics working in an area already steeped in poverty and his low prices and trustworthy service made him the sort of guy people wanted to give repeat business to.

But even with all of their hard work it would still never be enough. I didn’t want to be any part of an added burden to my family so I had decided to take on the tuition and housing on my own. If I could save them from any additional worry and ensure that they could help my brother if he needed it when he started college, I was going to do my part. It had always been like that—working together for the common good for our family. I valued them all so much and cherished the relationships we shared.

I looked at my phone. Suzy had already arrived for her shift sometime during my break and I knew she would be wondering where I was if I took any more time to stand out on the sidewalk contemplating my fate. My god, what was wrong with me this evening? Nothing had changed with work and there was no reason for this hesitation. Not a reason I could put my finger on anyway. There was something in the air and I felt like anything was possible that evening, but I wasn’t sure any of it was good.

I pushed the door of the alleyway entrance open and stepped into the area near the back of the bar. A few of the servers were rushing around, dressed in their club issued, all-black attire. The guys had ties in a rich, deep scarlet color that matched the decor around the floor of the club and the girls who waited tables in this area were always instructed to keep their makeup to the same tone. I was just glad that I had the skin tone that worked well with the deep red lipstick I had to wear each night, but upon reflection I had a good idea that we were all hired based on how we would work with the color scheme in the part of the club we would be working in.

There was already a crowd surrounding the bar although it wasn’t late yet, our peak time for club members to show up, and I smiled thinking that there might be an extra tip or two in the cards for me tonight.

“Hey Tommy,” I said giving a wink and a quick shoulder squeeze to one of our Friday night regulars.

“Samara, baby…” he grinned and turned to pull me toward him, ignoring the fact that I was trying to make my way to the employee dressing rooms. “Sweetheart, don’t leave me. You know you’re my favorite.”

I felt his eyes scouring up and down my body as his hand drifted down to my hip and pulled me suddenly against him. I could feel the start of an erection growing in his pants and while a part of me wondered what it would be like to have Tommy Rollins—investment banker to the upper echelons of New Jersey society—be my first, I just smiled and put a hand on his chest.

“And you’re one of mine. Don’t ever forget it.” I gave him a little grind before turning on my heel and heading off in the direction of the dressing room. I let out an inaudible groan under the heavy beat of the club. It would be great to have someone like Tommy be my first—I knew for a fact that he was good in bed and that women were always clawing to get to the front of the line to be with him in the club. But I also had to keep in mind that I was here as a bartender—the co-head bartender with my best friend and roommate, Suzy, and I wouldn’t let the animal attraction I felt to one of the hottest, richest guys in the club jeopardize my job status.

But god, I was aching. Nineteen and still a virgin, I was in the minority among all of my friends, most of whom had given it up when we were in junior high or high school to one of the stupid guys we were surrounded by. Nothing about the thought of losing my virginity to one of these small-town, no future dudes had appealed to me in the least. While it had started off as me making some kind of statement about my standards, now it was just frustrating. I was 19 and I could have sex if I wanted, with anyone I wanted, and there had been so many opportunities. Why hadn’t I taken any of them?

“You know why,” I said to myself as I moved along the back wall of the club, heading to find Suzy getting ready for her shift.

I hadn’t taken up any of the many offers to deflower me because none of them seemed like they would be a good first. So many casual dates and it wasn’t any wonder that none of them had turned into anything. I quickly discovered that a portion of the male population would drop a girl like a hot potato if she wouldn’t have sex by the third date. Strangely, there were some that ran for the hills the moment they found out I was a virgin. I had assumed, and was apparently mistaken, that virginity was valued among men—some kind of trophy they collected. It had never occurred to me that some men were put off or intimidated by it.

And so there had been a long string of guys, mostly assholes, who had given me the heave-ho after I told them I was waiting for the perfect time and perfect person.

I pulled back the velvet curtain that shielded the entrance of the employee dressing area from view. It was tucked back in a corner and down a small hallway, housing the lockers for all of the female servers, dancers, and other employees.

“Heya,” Suzy called from where she sat in front of one of the vanity mirrors. She was planted on a velvet cushion that matched the same red that covered most of the upholstered surfaces in the club.

“Hi, ready for a long night? Looks like the place is pretty crowded.” I took a seat on one of the cushions facing my roommate and watched her as she continued preparing her look for the night.

“Yeah, I think Stew said they were running an ad in one of those flight magazines that caters to…you know, our crowd. Probably a lot of newbies out there tonight. Best to keep our game faces on.”

I nodded. I knew what Suzy meant. There were a few hard rules about our jobs here, most important of which was that we were bartenders—nothing more. There was always room for advancement, but that would entail a different sort of contract negotiation with our manager and probably the big wigs who were over him at the club. With new people in the club that night there was a good chance that they wouldn’t know that we—the bartenders—weren’t on the menu. It was something that could be confusing to people new to the scene, but something we had to remind people from time to time. Even my flirtation with Tommy, while totally above board and the kind of thing expected of me in my role keeping the customers happy, did edge close to a line.

Everyone on the bar and serving staff had to deal with it on occasion. A man or woman who saw us and wanted to do the same things with us that they did with the other people who worked here at Club V. While open sex, partner swapping, and BDSM were all things on the menu at the club, patrons had to understand that the bar staff were not. A giggle had rippled through the small group of new employees at my introductory staff meeting when our manager had said that we weren’t ‘trained’ to do what the other members of the staff were. However, it had always been on the table that a person could move into that line of work at the club if they were interested, but that the two job roles were not to be combined.

I hardly even noticed the sex anymore, now that I was behind the bar almost full-time. When I started off serving there had been more exposure to it as I delivered drinks and small plates to the main floor of the club, which was usually filled with people chatting and enjoying each other’s company, but often got a lot heavier than that. More than once I had delivered a drink to a man who insisted on having a sip of a 50 year scotch while a young blonde woman bounced up and down on his cock wildly. Sex was allowed on the main floor, as it was allowed anywhere in the club, but mostly occurred in the small alcoves that surrounded the large room on the ground floor. The large bar presided over the main room and saw a lot of business, but very often people in the alcoves or down the large hall would order something that had to be delivered to them.

In those early days I saw a lot more than I did now and I no longer noticed the moaning that emanated from the alcoves. The DJ usually kept the music going loud enough to drown that out anyway, or played something that the moans complemented. There was no denying the overtly sensual environment of my workplace. Every inch of the 5,000 square foot club throbbed with a sexual beat and the smell of ylang ylang, sandalwood, and patchouli stirred up the lust of all who entered the place, while simultaneously attempting to mask the unmistakable aroma of sex and pulsing pheromones. I tried not to think about it so often, but it wasn’t odd for me to enter the club and immediately become wet and aroused. That by itself made my current situation that much more difficult to bear.

"How are things going with Kevin?" Suzy asked, pulling me from my thoughts as she looked in the mirror and carefully applied a set of false eyelashes to her left eye. The results were amazing as she leaned back and blinked, taking in her reflection. It was no wonder that Suzy was approached to work here by one of the owners. My good friend and roommate stood about 5 inches taller than me and she looked like she had just walked off the runway at the Victoria's Secret fashion show. Her high, full breasts were a marvel and it made sense why half the men in the club immediately turned their attention toward her stunning figure. Even fully clothed, Suzy was the woman every guy in the club wanted and she was completely out of reach for them.

“Ugh…Kevin. Well, that’s over.”

When I had left our apartment for work earlier in the day I had been on the phone with Kevin, hashing out an argument we had continued from the night before. In the end it looked like we weren’t going to be able to come to any sort of agreement.

Suzy looked my way and gave me a sad frown. Pulling me close, she gave me a hug, careful not to smudge her carefully applied makeup. She had a super thick cat eye look going on tonight and it made her look twice her normally sexy self. She was in school to be a makeup artist so she was always trying out new looks that never failed to impress the clientele at Club V.

“Thanks,” I said as I pulled back from the hug. “I’m just going to freshen up a little bit and then I’ll be out there to join you.”

“See you in a few then,” Suzy said as she stood and smoothed out her tight miniskirt and pulled back the curtain to head out to the bar.

I turned and looked at my own reflection. No one else was coming on shift soon so I had the place to myself and could check out my appearance without anyone witnessing it.

My long, wavy blonde hair was down, the way I usually wore it and had a tousled kind of beachy look to it. No wonder Tommy had reached for me. I had to admit it was about as sexy as my hair ever looked and it made me grin. My hazel eyes, flecked with green looked a little mysterious and were just unique enough that I always got compliments on them, especially in the low light of the club. The sconces, bar, and table lighting provided just the right amount of luminescence to make them sparkle brightly. I had been told more than once that they were mesmerizing and I always tried to do my eye makeup in green and gold tones to accentuate this feature.

My high cheek bones, inherited from my grandmother, didn’t hurt my overall appearance either. I had no need for contouring as it was already there and I was grateful for that small, genetic mercy. A mole above my upper lip had been an annoyance to me as a child, but now it was the sort of provocative beauty mark that men and women alike complimented me on constantly.

I stood then and frowned. The one thing I would change about myself if I could was my height. At five feet, four inches tall I was one of the shorter women on the bar staff and it made reaching things on the high shelves a job for Suzy instead of me. But my weight was in check and my hips flared to a kind of curve that I knew caught the eye of many people I walked past. My breasts were the show stoppers though. I might have been on the short and smaller side at 125 pounds, but my 38C breasts were something I took a lot of pride in showing off whenever I could. The club allowed Suzy and I to wear our own clothing instead of the standard club issued uniforms and she and I usually chose tight, extremely low cut tanks or scoop-necked t-shirts. It was one of the more comfortable things about our job—we got to be the fun girls at the bar and most of the time it didn’t even feel like work.

I smoothed out my own miniskirt and turned to take a look at my backside.

“You’ve got a fabulous ass,” I said to myself with a laugh and turned to make my way back out to the bar, for another night at Club V.