Bet You: Love and Lapdances, #12

By Katie de Long

The exotic dancers and employees of the Queen of Clubs walk a fine line, with only wits, beauty, and market savvy to keep them from toppling into the shark pit. Ride shotgun through lapdances, romance, and sexual awakenings. Don't worry, these girls won't ask what your hands are doing under the tip rail. 

When a fellow dancer begs Saffron to keep her ex away from her, Saffron has no idea what she's in for. Chase can be intense, immature, and strangely endearing. But will the way their relationship began cause the way it ends? 

Bet You is a novella containing adult content. It stands alone, or can be read as the twelfth entry in the Love and Lapdances series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie de Long
• Release date: Oct 27, 2015
• ISBN: 9781519924193

Katie de Long

USA Today bestseller Katie de Long lives in the Pacific northwest, realizing her dream of being a crazy cat-lady. As a kid, Katie flagged the fade-to-blacks in every adult book she encountered, and when she began writing, she vowed to use cutaways sparingly. After all, that's when the good stuff happens. And on a kindle, no one asks why there's so many bookmarks in her library. For more information on Katie's work, visit delongkatie.com.

Book preview

Bet You

Love and Lapdances #12

The exotic dancers and employees of the Queen of Clubs walk a fine line, with only wits, beauty, and market savvy to keep them from toppling into the shark pit. Ride shotgun through lapdances, romance, and sexual awakenings. Don't worry, these girls won't ask what your hands are doing under the tip rail.

When a fellow dancer begs Saffron to keep her ex away from her, Saffron has no idea what she's in for. Chase can be intense, immature, and strangely endearing. But will the way their relationship began cause the way it ends?

Dedication

For all the whores, sluts, and bad girls I've known who turned those names into compliments.

––––––––

This story has a glossary in the back, for some strip club terms.

Bet You

Love and Lapdances #12

Chapter One, Chase

She drifted around the stage like a dandelion seed, carried on an invisible breeze. I tried to ignore the hostility in her eyes—it cut me to the core. But at the rail, she couldn't ignore me, only try to lavish more attention on the other schlub taking in her divine figure. Even that only worked so well, though. I knew she'd have to acknowledge me sooner or later.

Why are you here, Chase? I told you we were over.

The guys wanted to come by, celebrate the last demo we finished.

"And you couldn't tell them to go somewhere you wouldn't be creeping out your ex?"

I shrugged. I tried. Not that hard, mind you. I knew seeing her like this was just tonguing a loose tooth, telling it you'd stop wiggling it if it would just reset itself in the socket. Still, I couldn't help but think that I might find the words to make her come back, and if I did, I wanted to be near her before they could slip away from me.

Next time try harder. She gave me a knowing glare and gathered up the money on the floor as the song wound down.

Right on cue, the DJ called out Petaline, two of two, everybody. Please welcome Saffron to the stage.

I wanted to leave, wanted to plead with Ahava—Petaline, as she's known here—but she'd already made a sale, and didn't wait before leading him to the dance couches. The thought of his eyes roaming her curves, her dark curls spilling down her bare chest inches from his face, made me queasy.

I grudgingly set down another dollar for the next girl to distract myself.  The rail was empty but for me, and it wasn't her fault that it's impossible to follow Aphrodite herself. Even Ahava's name meant love.

Since the club was mostly empty, Saffron didn't bother dancing, despite my tip. She sat on the rail next to me, obscuring my view of the couches. I wanted to be irritated, but instead found myself captivated by a series of freckles on the side of her hip, peeking over the tasseled skirt she wore. She danced in place, well, really shifted on her hipbones as she sat, plainly enjoying the music even if there wasn't a point in getting naked to it.

You want to let that one go, man, she said when I noticed her.

At first, I didn't realize she was talking to me. I stared at her.

Seriously—take it how you want. But at least I've offered worth for two cents of that dollar. She winked at me, the glitter on her eyes sparkling like the inside of a geode before the glimmer was hidden as her muddy hazel eyes opened.

As suddenly as she took my attention, she released it, standing and moving to sit by her purse at the stage entrance. She pulled out an e-reader and found the best spot in the light to read. The spotlight highlighted her hair and traced lines along her curvature, a plumbline down her spine blurring out into the waistband of her skirt below two gentle dimples. I looked away from her, and Jay tapped my shoulder. C'mon, man. Pool table opened up.

Sure. Just a sec. I should probably thank her, at least. No point in being rude when I didn't have to be. I walked over to her, and she shifted as my shadow cut across her book. Thanks. What are you reading?

She raised an eyebrow at me, and showed the screen to me. Coursework.  The page displayed had an illustration of some kind of molecule.

Maybe you should have glasses and a plaid skirt, I teased weakly.

She rolled her eyes. Why is that a thing, anyways? I don't understand men.

I flushed. I'd spent a fair amount of time at the Queen of Clubs, and knew most of the dancers pretty well, but I'd never seen one as unabashedly honest as her. It was downright disarming. I raked my fingers through my hair. Well, if you want to take a break from your homework, I'll be playing pool over there. Happy for you to join in on the game.

She held my gaze for several seconds, thinking.

I'll tip you for it, I added, wondering if that was her concern.

She shrugged. I don't play.

No point getting worked up over it. Well, if you change your mind, just come on over. I can show you how.

What kind of stripper doesn't seize on every offer she gets?

I knew I should be happy with the state of things. After months of work, we'd finally finished another set of demos. It wasn't as much fun as playing live, but whatever avenues we'd take to put food on our plates were worthwhile. I didn't want to live out my days teaching guitar to whoever had the money, and listening to Smoke on the Water played by inexperienced hands on an almost daily basis.

It was stressful, and I hoped that Jay and Cal knew what they were doing with the promotion, to get it in front of the right ears. We were rapidly running out of excuses why we hadn't hit it big, or big enough to make a living, and we'd run out of money sooner or later.

Sure, maybe hanging out in a strip club was a dumb idea when you were already bracing yourself to be short on cash. But there weren't too many other places open right now. And I didn't have any kind of dancing in me