Page 23 of Ruthless Protector

I stood there and looked at myself in the mirror. My pale pink hair was a little wild and my lips were puffy from my nervous biting. My breasts were on the small side, my round ass more than ample on my small frame. I tried to look at myself critically. Would this body make me the money I needed? I didn’t have the kind of curves that Steph did. I was definitely no hourglass. Would the men out there find me attractive enough to throw money at me?

I did my best to slow my breathing, to get control over my racing pulse, but it was no good. There was no calming down at this point.

Ignoring the dread curling low in my belly was impossible. I’d never understood what people meant when they said that they listened to their gut. I did now. And right now, my gut was telling me I needed to get the hell out of there. Or maybe that was just the nerves. I had no damn clue what I was thinking at this point.

I just knew I had no choice but to ignore whatever it was.

There was a tap at the door and Steph poked her head through. “You ready, Willa?”

I nodded and she smiled at me, eyes warm, and held out her hand. Surprisingly, I took it, needing the contact, the support, and let her lead me out into the hall and to the back of the stage. I wasn’t sure how I managed to stay upright with the way my legs were shaking, not to mention the skyscraper heels she’d given me to wear.

You can do this. You have to do this.

I tugged on her hand, and she turned back to me. My mouth opened, ready to tell her I’d changed my mind, when an image of Tilly, of Rebecca, flashed through my mind. I’d do anything for that little girl, to keep her safe, even humiliate myself. So instead of making a run for it, I gave Steph a nod, and hoped like hell I wouldn’t throw up as soon as I stepped out there.

Steph pulled me up behind the stage, just off to the side. The song playing was coming to an end, the woman out there had the audience’s rapt attention as she gyrated on the floor topless. Her body was perfect, full and curvy as well. I watched as she crawled on her hands and knees to the edge of the stage, and guys shoved bills down the sides of her G-string. I stiffened, and Steph gave me a reassuring squeeze, then pointed out to the floor. Several big, burly guys stood by, expressions hard, gazes moving around the room in a detached, intense way.

“Those guys are there to protect us. Anyone touches something they’re not supposed to, security will be all over them.”

Okay, that was good.

The song ended and everything in me seized. The dancer on the stage strutted off. She looked at me and her eyes lifted to Steph.

“New girl,” Steph said. “Willa, this is Josie AKA Flame.”

Josie stood in front of me, topless, and did a little shimmy, making the bills in her G-string flutter. “They’re feeling generous today.” She gave me a wink. “You be fine, girl,” she said, obviously not missing the terror I was feeling, then walked toward the dressing room.

Another song started and Steph took my shoulders and looked into my eyes. “You got this, honey. It’s just three minutes. After this, it’ll be plain sailing, I promise.”

“Right,” I said, nodding. “Three minutes.”

I got this.

Steph gave me a little shove and I took a step out onto the glossy black stage. The lights were blinding and I could only see the guys closest to the edge, nothing farther back than that. That was good. The song was slower, moody. I recognized it. It was a song I liked.

Okay, Willa, you need to move now.

Instead, I stood there like a statue, startled by the lights, by the eyes on me, by the ones in the back that I couldn’t see. I needed to move.

God, I needed to move.

Tilly. This was for her.

I bit my lip, my nerves at fever pitch now, but I forced myself to move farther out onto the stage.

I was shaking, so hard the guys closest had to see.

Move! My mind roared.

Then someone was behind me. I jumped and started to spin around.

“Move your hips, honey,” Steph said against my ear. Her hands slid down to them and she started moving, encouraging me to dance with her. There was a hoot from the crowd, and I hoped like hell they thought this was part of the performance.

“Think of the man of your dreams, Willa. You’re dancing for him. Only him,” Steph said, her hands moving up my sides.

I’d been trying to think of anything but the fact I was here, that I was about to take my clothes off in front of these strangers, and she wanted me to picture the man of my dreams? I didn’t know how. I’d never allowed myself to think like that, not even when I was a teenager.

“Think of him, honey. He’s watching you, wanting you,” Steph said against my ear. “Show him what you’ve got.”