Protect Me From Myself

Book 6 - Dancer A - Chap1

Welcome to book 6 - Dancer A. This is Emilee and Chase's story. A new series away from the Archer's. There will be trigger warnings throughout this book, and I will post above each chapter where needed. I hope you enjoy it!

Emilee

Three years ago...

The club is jumping as always. Women dance like they don't have a care in the world, shaking their assets for the paying client. Some have taken clients to booths to drink, talk, and more. Some have been requested to join clients in the back rooms. Rooms where anything goes as long as you abide by Chase and Jesse's rules.

Chase Braxton is the club owner- well, he's part owner. He owns the place along with Jesse King. I've known both of them my whole life. They were the best friends of my big brother, Aidan.

My brother died a couple of years ago in a motorcycle accident. Chase and Jesse took me under their wing and ensured I stayed in school. Things got tough at home; Dad drank a lot, and Mom stopped caring. I could no longer afford to go to school without working to keep a roof over my head. Of course, the guys offered to pay for everything, but I refused. There was no way I would ever allow them to pay my way through life.

When they offered me a job at their exclusive club, working Friday and Saturday nights, I jumped at the chance. Of course, I couldn't work the bar. I don't suppose they would want to lose their liquor license by hiring underage girls.

Chase told me I would be dancing on a podium. I would have to wear skimpy dresses and sometimes just my underwear and heels. I would never have to be naked, and no client would ever be able to put their hands on me in any way. That was almost a year ago.

I've watched girls come to work here and move up the ranks in position so fast it makes your head spin. Some have only been here a couple of months.

How is that even fair?

Most of the girls have moved up to escort. They get booked by the highest clientele, movie stars, musicians, and businessmen. All high profiled. Of course, everything here is confidential, and each girl who works here has to sign a contract with a confidentiality clause. What happens in Club Trace stays in Club Trace.

I don't get why I've never been promoted. It's not that I want to sell my body like the other girls do, but I thought I would have worked my way up from simply dancing. I thought by now I would have at least given a lap dance.

They shrug it off whenever I mention anything to Chase or Jesse. They say it's nothing personal, that the other girls just have more experience.

How is that possible when I've been here longer than most?

It doesn't give a girl much confidence in her looks.

Chase always says it's nothing to do with the way I look. He says I'm the most beautiful girl he's ever laid eyes on.

But if that were the case, wouldn't he have promoted me by now?

Or given me a date with one of his more classier clients, even if all they wanted was a simple date?

I've been in love with Chase for as long as I've been here. Heck, I've loved him since I was a little girl. Although he's never looked at me in that way before. But he's always been nice to me, ensuring I'm happy and safe.

The hard part is that the more time I spend with him, the more I feel for him. But just like every other man, he doesn't even notice me. After all this time, he doesn't notice anything about me. I even dance more seductively when I know he's watching me, but it's like he's dead from the waist down as far as I'm concerned.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Okay, I'm a little shorter than the other girls here, and I guess I do have the darkest hair, not that I know where I got raven black hair from when both my parents and my brother had blonde hair. Lekisha, one of the gorgeous mixed-race girls here, has lighter hair than me. Go figure!

She used to tell me that for a short girl, I had a nice ass and firm ti.ts, a pretty face, and a smile to die for.

Why doesn't any man want more from me if that's the case?

I sigh to myself and order another vodka.

What else do I have to do on a Friday night?

I'm not due on stage for another half hour. Not that I feel like it tonight. All I really feel like is quitting. There must be more to life than dancing for four hours every weekend.

Okay, I will never, and I mean never, make the kind of money I make here anywhere else in my life. I don't have to work during the week because I can make up to two grand in tips alone, and that's without my salary. That's fuc.king laughable.

A salary for working in a club like this one?

It's a club where anything goes as long as you stick to the rules. But if a girl like me can make that much money, God knows how much the other girls make.

The joys of working in a well-established club that charges its members an obscene amount of money for the privilege of watching its girls dance. People like what I do, so I'm paid well. Plus, I think Chase and Jesse might slip a little extra in my pay packet.

“You know the rules.”

“Just pour the drink, jackass.” That's his job, dammit!

Ron always gives me sh.it about drinking on the job. I don't see what the hell it matters how many drinks I have; I do nothing but dance. It's not like men are allowed to so much as wink at me.

“Not having a good time?”

I knock back my vodka before looking at the man next to me.

Hell's bum, why does he have to be so damn hot?

Hot as in Gor-ge-ous! Tall, dark, and over the damn top handsome, muscles that bulge from his shirt, with icy blues, for fu.ck's sake! I imagine he has a washboard stomach, and God, I could do bad things to this man.

But, like every other man here, Chase and Jesse would probably break his legs if he so much as touched my arm.

“Kind of the story of my life these days.”

“Beautiful girl like you?” He smiles skeptically and narrows his eyes playfully. I blush.

I'm not used to a man's attention like this. Okay, sure, when I dance, I know men watch me and maybe want me or want me to do things to them. But then men will fu.ck anything when they're horny. It doesn't make me anything special.

But this man is looking at me in a way that has my body burning for him. He's more than just a couple of years older than me, that's for sure.

But what the hell does age have to do with anything?

I've always had a thing for older men.

“What could be so bad?” I shrug while motioning for Ron to pour me another drink. “Do you work here?”

“If you can call it that.”

“I'm not giving you another drink.”

I roll my eyes at Ron. “Why are you such a pric.k?”

“Why can't you do as you're damn well told!?”

“Hey, now, there's no need to speak to the lady like that.” My head snaps around to the sexy hunk next to me. He's a gentleman, alright.

“Don't be fooled by this one. She is not a lady.”

True. But I'm a woman who will crush his fuc.king balls if he keeps talking about me like that!

“And you're no gentleman. Now, why don't you go fu.ck off, Ron! And leave the bottle before you storm off to tell tales on me!” I yell as he walks away. “Asshole,” I mumble under my breath.

“Little firecracker, aren't you?” I sense the amusement in his voice. My se.x is clenching, listening to his husky voice.

I turn my now slightly drunk eyes to him.

Why is it alcohol makes a person feel much braver than they actually are?

“What's a hot guy like you doing in a place like this?” I ask as I run my hand up his chest. “I don't imagine you need to pay for a lady's company.”

“Maybe. But maybe I like the look of the little lady I've been watching dance for the past month.”

Does he mean me?

Why did he ask me if I worked here if he's been watching me?

“And yes,” He cups my face with his left hand. The feeling of his hand on my face has me biting on my lower lip. “I mean you, Ayvaline.”

What the fuc.k?

He knows my name?

He really has been watching me!

“What's your name?” I practically whisper against his mouth, which is now literally an inch away from mine.

“Zack.”

I gasp, and my eyes roll as his tongue teases my lips. They part easily for him, and he takes full advantage of it. I haven't been kissed by a man in months, but this man has a talent for it.

Holy hell, I'm soaked.

My panties are literally soaking for him. I slide my hand around his neck. The muscles in the backs of my legs become tight from leaning up on my tip toes. I'm 5.4 in heels, 5.1 without, and he is at least a foot taller.

“Would you dance for me, Ayva?”

“Privately?” I haven't let go of his neck yet. I don't want to let go of him; I like the feeling of his taut chest pressing against mine. I like the way my se.x is throbbing with thoughts of being near this man.

“Yes.”

I bite back a smile while nodding my head. I want nothing more than to dance privately for him. No one has ever asked me before. Then again, no one in the club has ever kissed me like he did. But then, no one has ever been allowed close enough to do so. Chase saw to that.

“Are you a Gold Member?”

Gold members get special treatment here. They have the choice of fourteen private rooms where the girls can take them for a private dance of their choosing.

“No. I'm a Platinum Member.” He winks.

Sh.it, Platinum members are like royalty, and they get treated as such. There are only a select few people who make Platinum members. And those are the members who take girls on vacations with them, buy them fine jewelry, make love to them, and fuc.k them hard all at once.

Nothing is unobtainable to Platinum members.

But you only make Platinum if Chase and Jesse trust you with their lives and those of the girls who work for them. That, of course, is why there are few Platinum members.

I've often wondered what it would be like to be one of those girls chosen to date a Platinum Member.

Marissa, Letisha, Diane, and one or two of the other girls who used to work here were hired to act as girlfriends for some of this club's top clients. Not that we see them anywhere other than in magazines or newspapers with their “Boyfriends,” as they're politely called.

Don't get me wrong, I don't wish to sleep with the clients, nor do I want to follow in the footsteps of those girls. They may be happier than they've ever been, but I don't wish to sell my body for se.x. I have nothing against those girls who do, but it's just not me.

Gold members here can request pretty much anything from the girls here. Dances, dinner dates, dates to the theater, a night with a girl in one of the “Fantasy rooms,” as the girls call them. A room where anything goes as long as the girl is willing. The only cameras in this place are the ones outside of those fantasy rooms.

Although the fantasy rooms are equipped with panic buttons should the girls need them, they also have voice recognition. This means that the girls are given three words each morning. If any of those words are called out in the room, security will be there within seconds, and the client with them will be dealt with accordingly. I never like to think about what that means, and I have never once asked, but I know Chase and Jesse take the girls' safety very seriously.

There are cameras in the private dance rooms here, but that's to ensure the girls aren't having se.x with clients in them; it's forbidden. Chase would literally throw a fit and fire whichever girl allowed things to go that far, and any man who asked her would have his membership revoked.

To my knowledge, no one has ever been caught doing that. No client wants the details of his private, se.xy time getting out there. Besides, the second Chase or Jesse gets wind, there might be something about to happen; the girl involved is soon dragged away, and the client is given a warning.

Can I really go into one of those private rooms and dance for this super hot man?

He must be someone of importance if he's a Platinum Member, but I don't recognize his face. My heart is pounding, not to mention my se.x is throbbing like crazy.

Yeah, I most definitely can.

“If you're a Platinum Member, you must have your own suite,” Suite meaning one of our most personal rooms here in the club.

Club.

The back end of this place is more like a damn hotel. It's so big here. This whole place was my brother's idea. He wanted to build this place and his reputation in the “Entertainment industry” I used to think it meant prostitution, and my brother wanted to be some kind of pimp. I guess, in a way, that's precisely what it meant. But no girl here is forced to do anything she doesn't want to do.

My brother was so much older than me- sixteen years older- and he was my hero. When he died, I think a part of me died with him. Chase and Jesse, of course, are my brother's age- thirty-six.

What does that say about me?

That I have a fetish for older men?

Well, then, I guess I do.

Zack smiles at me and takes my hand without a word. I follow him along the hall to the private suites, stopping outside the largest and grandest one. Which, of course, tells me Zack is someone of great importance, and he chose me?

What the heck is that all about?

I can't do this, I can't go behind Chase's back and do this, he'd kill me. “Zack, I can't go in there with you.” He stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. “It's not because I don't want to. It's just my contract...”

“They gave you a contract that doesn't allow you to be with a man should he ask it of you?”

I nod. It's the truth, after all.

Chase ensured I'd never get to be with a man intimately. That's what I wanted. Of course, it was. I don't want to sell my body, but right now, I could kick myself for ever agreeing to it. This man in front of me is the most attractive man I've ever seen here. And believe me, some of the country's hottest men come here.

“Hmm.” He lets go of my hand and crosses his arms over his body. “You're too beautiful to be stuck out there acting like you're nothing more than a dancer,” I blush. He is so charming. “You're blushing.”

He takes a step toward me, and I take one back, and another, and another until I'm backed against the wall, and his body is pressed hard against mine. Even with these three-inch heels, he towers over me.

“I've never seen a woman as beautiful as you.” I gasp as he kisses my neck. Oh my God, I haven't felt like this in so long. “I want you so bad.”

“I want you, too.” I clutch at his broad shoulders. Christ, I feel so small next to this man. Everything inside me is shaking; my knees feel weak, like I'm about to fall. My head is becoming dizzy with the way he's holding me, kissing me.

“Come with me.”

“That was laced with innuendo.” I can't help the primal groan that escapes from my throat when he kisses my throat. He chuckles against my skin. He knows as well as I do what he meant. If he keeps pressing himself against me, it won't be long before we're both coming.

“Zack!”

Hell!