Even my boyfriend saw me that way — sometimes, at least. I'd never really known who was interested in me for the stereotype and who liked me for myself. Maybe I never would. But I had picked Jon, and I was going to keep working to stay with him...and if he thought he could put me in a box — any kind, any box at all, whether it was sexually promiscuous fox-whore, or shy bumbling bookish librarian-sweater guy — then he had another think coming.
I locked eyes with my dance partner, both of us now down to thongs and acting like we were getting desperate for each other. Some intensity in his eyes shone back at me. I felt like we were dancing from the same place, the same mental and emotional space.
The music throbbed around us like a living thing, and everything else but him and it were background noise. I didn't give two shits about them. They didn't get to define me anymore. I'd let them — and people like them — have their way for too long.
I was me, and I was going to fucking dance.
We were both panting by the time our stage time was finally over and we could get off. I'd given it my all and held my head high, even though I was only wearing the tiniest of g-strings.
"Not bad," said my panting companion when we were finally behind the curtain. He fumbled for a robe and wrapped himself up in it. His eyes looked tired but he gave me a cocky grin. "Clumsy, but great for a beginner. And you made me look good, of course."
"How could I not?" I bantered back, reaching up to brush sweaty hair off his face.
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning against my touch. Then he opened his eyes, gathering himself, and looked me straight in the face, like he was nerving himself up to something, uneasy about it. "Are you going to join me later? For the private stuff? Two's always more popular than one, and I'll share fifty-fifty as long as you don't make me do everything."
I stared at him in shock. "Private stuff? You mean like...sex for money?"
He nodded. "Didn't they tell you that part yet?" His smile now looked a little cracked. "It's not so bad, really. Not like some places. There are bouncers if anyone gets violent or tries to take it for free."
There was prostitution going on. The case had blown open in those few, awful words. I gulped, trying to keep back the feeling I was going to be sick. "Oh. I didn't — no. I thought it was dancing. I'm not even very good at that." I could feel my tough and sexy act crumbling around my heels. I felt very naked all of a sudden. "I mean, you can opt out if you want, right?"
He shrugged, looking away from me, his mouth a twist. "You really should know what you're getting into if you work here. Maybe you should just walk away before…"
"Before what?"
He gave me a baffled look. "Don't you get it? McCann doesn't let go of his money earners. Once he starts thinking of you as his, you're stuck here — one way or another."
"That's awful."
The boy shrugged, looking unhappy about it...and irritated that I was making him say these things. "That's just...you should know how shifter-themed clubs work. All they want is sex, really." He jerked a thumb back towards the curtain that hid our audience, now cheering for the next act.
"I'm sorry. I—"
"Hey," said a gruff voice, one of the bouncers moving forward towards my robed companion. "A client's ready. Don't keep him waiting. Unless he's into that."
The bouncer was non-shifter, so my new friend was probably stronger, despite being smaller and quite slim, but he let himself be pulled away by the arm without argument or resistance. I thought of something. It shouldn't be super important but right now it was. "Hey, what's your name?"
He turned back to me with a quick, bright flash of a smile. "Alex, but I prefer Lexie. What's yours?"
My mouth went dry. "Um, Wally."
"Ha. That's not very sexy. You'll need a stage name."
Wallace was even less sexy. I'd always hated the nickname Wally, but then I hated everything about this undercover job as well.
He gave me a little two-fingered salute and a wink. "See you soon."
I wished that didn't sound so ominous to me.
#
I was shoved up on the stage a couple more times when the better dancers were between takes or handling "clients" in the back rooms. Everyone here was pretty damn open about it. I didn't see how the cops couldn't have busted the place wide open on the first walk-through. They hadn't needed someone undercover at all...
I wasn't very good on the stage, and I was even less graceful without Lexie's help to make it seem sexy, but I got through it. Offstage, I met a few of the others, we snacked on donuts, caught naps, complained about the management (quietly). All through the day, bouncers would arrive to take one or another of my new friends away for a "client meeting."
There were all sorts of shifters, and no squabbling among us about what kind we were at all. There were no wolves present. Everyone was an ox, squirrel, bird-type, bear, opossum, or something rarer like a big cat. Nobody was a pack animal; I suppose wolves and such usually just fall back on their packs in tough times.
I learned a lot in those hours, and realized just what a sheltered, lucky fox I'd been. I might complain about people misjudging me and over-sexualizing me, but the fact was, I'd been very fortunate in my life. A stable home life, good health, an excellent education...and job opportunities. Not to mention Jon. I would probably never have had to be here if I hadn't chosen to be. Probably.
