The stage lights dim as the previous dancer exits the stage. She slips past me with a polite smile and I take my place just behind the semi-transparent white screen at the back. Because it's dark, the audience can't see me just yet, but when the lights behind me come on, my silhouette will be cast in shadow against the screen.

Performing is always a rush, and my heart starts to thump a bit faster as I hear the DJ introduce me. I take the 3-foot-long black silk rope and pass it behind my back to my other hand, strike a pose, and wait for my music.

"Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our next dancer to the main stage—the red vixen herself, Scarlett."

Rihanna's "S&M" starts to play and the lights shine, illuminating my shape from behind. The crowd hoots and hollers and I can't help but smirk to myself.

I slide my hands up and down my body to the rhythm, the electronic hum of the music sending vibrations through my legs. I roll my hips, slowly dragging my arms higher up my body. The first verse starts with the crack of a whip and with a swift move I snap the rope between my outstretched arms.

The room cheers at the move and I step out onto the stage, crossing one leg over the other, my boots hitting the floor on every other beat.

I love dancing on the main stage. It's the best spot in the house and all eyes in the room fall on me. The dancers rotate out quickly—one or two songs apiece—but we get to pick the music and try out more creative routines here.

I make my way to the front, where Kieran and his friends are perched along the rail. This dance starts with floor work, so he's in the perfect spot for a hell of a show. His eyes are alight and he's grinning like a kid on Christmas. I raise my arms straight, the rope slack between my fists. With a couple of twists and a bend of my elbows, I wrap it around my wrists, simultaneously sliding my feet apart until I land in a front split.

A few whoops come from the crowd as a few bills are thrown on stage.

"Get it, babygirl!" Kieran shouts, his voice cutting through the rest.

The black-haired girl next to him licks her lips as her eyes trace my curves.

Oh yeah—this one definitely likes girls.

I unravel the rope and fling it behind me, then flip so that I'm laying with my body parallel to the front edge of the stage. I arch my back, extend a leg in the air, and lower myself to the floor. My hips buck up and down to the music, then I pull my body in upward so that I'm resting on the balls of my feet. I bounce my backside up and down against the heels of my boots. My eyes meet Kieran's and he fans himself with a stack of bills.

I smirk and crawl toward him like a cat ready to pounce. He licks his lips and holds out a handful of fives. I lean in to grab them so he gets a good eyeful of my cleavage, then tuck the money into the waistband of my underwear—the easiest place to put them so they don't go flying when I'm going to be using the pole. He wipes his brow and pulls his lips into the shape of an 'o', letting out a harsh breath as he pretends to collapse backward into his seat.

I turn to the other patrons, taking several wads of bills and stuffing them into my undies. I shift into a standing position and bend down, unhooking my skirt at the sides and whipping it off toward the back of the stage.

I lean back so that the pole sinks into the indentation of my spine then roll against it. I take a few steps around the circumference, then throw myself into the first spin.

Pole has become second-nature to me, my legs and arms naturally flowing from one move to the next. I whirl around with ease, my legs twisting and crossing.

The crowd continues to cheer, my ears still catching Kieran's enthusiastic whistles and shouts over the rest. I see bills piling up at the edges of the stage in my periphery, making note of where they are so that I don't slip on them while I'm dancing. I feel the bass reverberate in my palms where they connect to the pole.

My body moves as if dance is as natural to me as breathing. I slip my fishnet top off over my shoulders then hook my knees around the pole. Towards the end, I ready for my favorite move by standing with my legs about two feet apart, my back to the audience, and my left shoulder resting against the pole. With a slow, smooth motion I lower myself down and backwards, curving my back in an arch with a hand on the pole to steady me. The audience goes wild as the top of my head nearly reaches the floor. I slowly drop myself to the ground, kicking my legs in the air and twisting to land on my knees.

I work the crowd, extending my legs to let them slip bills into the tops of my boots, sometimes bending down to let them put a bill in the cups of my bra. I scoop up the ones in my top and transfer them to my boots before removing my bra. I hold it out to the side then drop it to the floor. I can already tell by the stacks of cash along the tip rail that the mask is popular with the crowd. I do my best to pick it all up in a way that looks sexy and part of the show. Kieran's ink-black eyes follow me as I walk back behind the screen and strike a final pose in time with the song's final note.

After stacking up my money and putting it in my locker, I head out to the main floor. I decide to keep the mask on. Based on how much I made for my stage performance alone, I'm thinking the customers like it.

I slip past the curtain and spot Kieran with his lady friends at a table. They've moved to a nearby table and are laughing about something amongst themselves. Kieran spots me and his eyes lock with mine as he licks his lips.

"Enjoy the show?" I ask when I reach them.

Kieran grins and smooths his hair back with his palm.

"Enjoy doesn't begin to cover it, Red," he says, his brows raised. "I thought I heard thunder there for a minute, but I think it was just the sound of every dick in this place simultaneously erupting."

I nearly choke on a laugh and feel my cheeks turn what I'm sure is bright red.

"Oh my god, it was so good!" his friend says enthusiastically.

"Red, this is Jen and her girlfriend Deb." He gestures to each of them and smiles. "Deb, Jen—this is Sam."

"So good to meet you!" Jen says with an enthusiastic smile as she shakes my hand. Her expression is one of an excited child looking at her first doll, but also of one who might get a little too eager and rip the doll's arms off. "This man has not shut up about you since you met."

Kieran scratches his neck and looks to the side. He's clearly trying to look indifferent, but the color creeping onto his cheeks tells me otherwise.

"Saying good things, I hope," I say, reaching out to shake Deb's as well. Deb just nods and smiles. It's clear that Jen is the talker in this relationship.

"Are you kidding, girl? Nothing but good things! 'The other day Sam said something so clever!' 'Sam turned me onto this awesome new band!' 'Sam is a sex goddess!' 'I can't stop thinking about Sam!' Sam, Sam, Sam!"

I raise my brows and laugh.

Did he really say those things about me?

"Jen, damn," Kieran says under his breath. "Just sell me out, why don't you."

He rubs a hand over his face and cringes.

"Yeah, well, you boned my girlfriend so we're even."

My eyes widen and I briefly look at Deb.

"Not me!" Deb says defensively, looking to Jen for assistance. "Ex-girlfriend. Ex."

"Yes, ex," Jen clarifies. "But not at the time."

Well this is awkward.

I look at Kieran and he just laughs and shrugs.

"I didn't know it wasn't an open relationship."

"I'm just teasing. I'm over it," she says. "Sorry, Sam, I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. Or, shoot—Scarlett? I should call you Scarlett here, right?"

"It's no big deal," I say with a shrug.

"Your show was amazing. You are an incredible dancer!"

"Thank you!"

"I've never seen Kieran so awestruck. I swear, you get this boy a leash and a collar and he will follow you wherever you go."

"Kinky," he says with a playful waggle of his brow.

"Seriously, though, where did you find this Catwoman-gone-dominatrix masterpiece that you're wearing and do they sell it in plus sizes?"

This girl has absolutely no filter. I love her.

"It's from a shop called Leatherotic and I think they had every size. They do custom too. It's across the street from the Westside Center."

Deb listens to our conversation with a grin tugging at her lips.

"Leatherotic," Jen says with a smile. "I love that."

"Where would I find the bathrooms?" Deb asks, looking around with a bewildered expression.

"Oh, yes! I need to go too!" Jen says. "I had one too many vodka cranberries."

I point to the small hallway on the other side of the room beneath a red neon bathroom sign.

"Right over there, down the hall. Ladies is on the right."

"Oh hallelujah! My bladder thanks you!" Jen skitters off, leaning on Deb's shoulders as they make their way to the restroom.

"Your friends are sweet," I say to Kieran, whose eyes are scanning up and down my body.

"I'm glad you like them. Jen has been asking questions about you nonstop."

"About me? What have you told her?"

"Not a lot, but everyone's noticed I-" He pauses as something seems to catch his eye over my shoulder.

A man approaches at my side, clearly looking for my attention. He's middle-aged and wearing a suit with a partly-unbuttoned blue shirt. He's relatively good-looking; the salt-and-pepper hair gives him that George Clooney kind of vibe.

"Hey, Sweetness. You were great on stage," he says with a slight slur that tells me the bartender should have cut him off twenty minutes ago.

"Thank you!" I say. I try to turn back to Kieran, but the man steps closer, positioning himself almost between us.

"I want a dance."

He licks his lips, his eyes locked onto my chest.

"Sure thing," I say with a smile. "I'm in the middle of a chat right now, but I'll be happy to come find you wh-"

He shocks me by jamming a wad of bills in my cleavage.

"I paid you, so come dance for me."

I don't mind eager customers, but I have a major problem with disrespectful ones. This club has rules—follow the dress code, wait your turn, don't get rowdy. But the most important rule is that the dancers can touch you, but you cannot touch the dancers.

I rip the money from between my breasts, fuming as I shove it against his chest.

"You don't have my permission to touch me. Please keep your hands to yourself."

He gives me an incredulous look and scoffs. He grabs the cash and reaches back toward me, like he's trying to put it back. I step back, gaping at the sheer nerve.

"What did I just say, dude? Do not touch me. I'm busy and you need to step away before I call security over."

Kieran's eyes bounce between me and the man, quietly observing with no emotion in his face.

The man has gone from handsy drunk to angry drunk in mere seconds, his hands now balled up at his sides and the vein in his neck bulging. He reaches for my shoulder like he's going to grab me, but at the last minute he leaps backward with a shriek.

My eyes widen as I take in the sight; his pant leg is on fire.

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