Party Girl: Love and Lapdances, #13

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.

Lee lives for the moment, right up until she's fired from the Queen of Clubs for acts of prostitution. Her oldest friend will be there for her no matter what, but can the client she got caught serving help, too?

Note: Party Girl contains mature and explicit content. It's not intended for audiences under 18. It is not a standalone romance; Lee, Seth, and Lucas's story continues in Honeypot, coming soon.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie de Long
• Release date: Mar 11, 2016
• ISBN: 9781524248031

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

Party Girl

Love and Lapdances #13

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.

Lee lives for the moment, right up until she's fired from the Queen of Clubs for acts of prostitution. Her oldest friend will be there for her no matter what, but can the client she got caught serving help, too?

Note: Party Girl contains mature and explicit content. It's not intended for audiences under 18. It is not a standalone romance; Lee, Seth, and Lucas's story continues in Honeypot, coming soon.

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.

Party Girl

Love and Lapdances #13

I'm waiting for my last stage set. My hand smell like sanitizer and baby wipes, but there aren't old man pubes under my nails, so it's a good day. Given the constraints, most of my work here is hands only.

I have to listen close, because the slightest bit of distraction will get me a pissed off DJ who'll need a bigger tipout. There's enough dancers rotating through that you're bound to get some repeat names, and some of the girls' names are similar enough that I never assume he's calling me. Lia, Lena, Riley, Lacey; over a crackly mic, they all sound like Lee. At first, I jumped every twenty minutes thinking it was my time to go up, and lost a lot of money startling the customers and having them pick up on my nervous body language.

And a stage name is almost an identity to a lot of girls. Lia's the worst, frankly.  She's been here longer than anyone, and has never let me live it down that I get confused for her. To be fair, she had 'quit' before I started and picked my name, and by the time she unquit, I had too many regulars to be willing to change it.

You want respect from me, you have to earn it. And I've never liked the way she looks at me. Like my goddamn mother, if my mother and I were in direct competition. If I wanted that shit, I'd never have left home.

Lia's out of commission right now: pole dancing accident. It seems almost fitting that she fell off the pole, since she is one of the most cautious dancers I know, always trying to teach the girls useless 'safety tips' to prevent themselves from getting hurt at work. She says there was lotion on the pole, and while I have to wonder if it's actually any of my lubricants, it's hard not to assume she's just trying to save face at fucking up so badly. Everyone falls at some point. I've done it, too. Actually netted one of my best customers when I landed in his lap.

And half her 'advice' is actually a sermon about how to distinguish yourself from a common prostitute, disguised as 'concern for the industry'. It's hypocritical—what makes her better able to say where a lapdance crosses the line into an act of prostitution than the parties involved who are both happy with the arrangement? Why is it automatically bad to be seen as a prostitute when you're already a stripper? It's a wormhole of double standards and moralizing. If I argue, it could bump me higher in management's attention, as a 'risk', but it still rankles me keeping my mouth shut and letting her go uncontested, day after day.

They like her here, so she's enthroned in the dressing room, roosting in a pile of cheap cosmetics and sundries and snacks. We're frankly not a big enough club to need a