Burning Ice - Chapter 4: Chapter 4
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The music thumps in the background, the familiar beat pulsing through my body as I move. I've danced to this rhythm a thousand times, but tonight something feels different. The crowd is lively, just like any other night, but there's one person I can't seem to shake from my mind.
I'm performing my usual routine, feeling the spotlight warm against my skin, when I catch a glimpse of him.
He's sitting at the bar, but it's not like the usual faces I see in here. There's something about him. Tall, broad shoulders, a sharp jawline with a stubble of a mustache that matches his black hair that falls behind his ears, and a posture that screams both power and tension. His presence stands out in the crowd, and the moment my eyes land on him, I feel something shift. It's subtle, but I feel it, like a quiet tug at the back of my mind.
He's watching me, but there's no overt lust in his gaze. It's different. It's like he's taking me in, studying me from afar, sizing me up in a way that makes my pulse pick up just a little.
I've seen my fair share of men staring at me like they own me, and trust me, I've learned how to handle them. But there's something about the way he's looking at me that makes me pause. He doesn't look like someone who's here to throw money at me or make me dance for his amusement. There's a quiet intensity in the way he watches—almost like he's trying to figure me out, rather than just enjoy the view.
I try to keep my focus, moving with the music, but it's hard not to be aware of him. His eyes follow me, steady and unblinking. It's not the usual hungry gaze; it's more like he's studying me, noticing the details that others overlook.
I'm used to attention, but something about him... makes me feel like he's seeing something deeper, something no one else cares to look for. And that makes me a little more aware of every move I make. I find myself instinctively adjusting, making sure I don't break the rhythm, even though the strange pull between us is making it hard to concentrate.
I should probably look away, move on, but I don't. I can't.
For some reason, I'm drawn to him.
I shake off these thoughts and do my best to continue putting on my show. I can't let one guy throw me off. My life relied on this job.
Before long, I was finished with my set. I let my eyes wonder to his brown ones one last time. I felt my heartbeat jump as his eyes remained laser focused on me the whole time.
I wondered what was going through his head? Was he disgusted by me and what I do? Maybe curious and intrigued? Well whatever it was, it wasn't my concern. Since when did I care about what these men think?
Apparently now.
"Sexy lady" Stasi wrapped her pale arm around my waist when I got off stage.
"Did you realize that you had nearly every one of those Carolina Storm players foaming at the mouth" she laughed as we walked together.
"Is that who they all were?" I asked. I had obviously noticed the group of very attractive men but clearly my mind was on one particular player.
"Duh, they only stop by like every other week only this time Nate Griffith was with them and he's never with them. Probably thinks he's too stuck up for this place" she rolled her eyes.
"Which one was Nate?" I wondered but I had an idea.
"The one with the whole Aaron Taylor-Johnson vibe and the one who nearly turned pale watching you girl" she laughed.
"Ugh, what I would do to have his attention" she groaned dramatically.
"What's so special about him?" I suddenly wanted to know more about this man.
She gave me a knowing look.
"Well A) he's fucking hot B) he's fucking rich and C) he's fucking rich and hot" she rolled out like it was obvious.
I laughed with an eye roll.
"I guess what they say about being rich and hot can get you a lot of places is true" I snorted.
"I mean he's also crazy talented. At least that what my sugar daddy says, I don't watch the sport.. or any sport for that matter" she hummed.
I laughed again. Neither did I. Didn't have the time and also didn't care nearly enough to spend any of my free time watching men have a "who has a bigger dick" contest.
But I can't deny he was hot and a part of me felt something. I'm sure I'm imagining it as it's been a long night. That was my last night of the show anyway.
"Billie, do you want to stay an extra 30 for a VIP with Stasi?" My manager asked me.
I looked at Stasi who was beaming with pleading eyes. She loved to work with me and honestly the two of us on stage is pretty hot.
But I was so fucking tired... but the money. I needed the extra money right now for rent.
It was just 30 minutes...
"Sure" I sighed.
Stasi excitedly clapped her hands.
"Let's go lady" she kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand to the VIP section of the club.
Stasi was a very petite girl, at 5'2 I felt like a giant at my 5'5 next to her. She had crimped up long black hair and always had long black nails to match. She was beautiful with her pale skin and black inked tattoos. She was the opposite aesthetic of me, dark and almost gothic while I chose to wear brighter and pastel colors to contrast my skin.
The air in the VIP room is thick with smoke, expensive cologne, and the faint smell of whiskey. The music pulses in the background, but here, in this secluded space, everything feels louder. Every beat of the bass, every breath, every whisper. The lights are dim, casting soft shadows across the faces of the men sitting in plush leather seats. It's a familiar setting, the kind of private show I've done a thousand times, but tonight feels different.
Tonight, I can feel their eyes on me in a way that makes my skin prickle.
Stasi leans in close as we both make our way to the stage. Her lips curve into a playful smirk. She's confident, like she owns this place, and I can't help but admire that. She gives me a quick wink before we start moving, our bodies syncing with the rhythm of the music, the movement instinctive.
We've done this routine together so many times it's second nature, there's a chemistry between us, a kind of unspoken understanding. We're partners in this, each of us playing off the other's energy. The crowd loves it, their attention a constant pulse behind us. I can see their faces, but I don't focus on them. Instead, I focus on the music, the way it flows through me, pushing my body to move with it, to let go.
The guys in the VIP section are talking, laughing, and I can't help but glance over. That's when I spot him. Nate.
He's sitting with the other men, but his eyes are locked on me. There's no mistaking it. Even from across the room, the intensity of his gaze feels like a pull, like it's pulling me toward him. I swallow, forcing myself to keep my composure, but I can't ignore how it feels to be under his stare—like he's watching every movement I make, every curve of my body, studying it with a focus that makes me shiver.
Stasi notices my brief glance, her eyes following mine. She smiles knowingly but doesn't say anything. She knows exactly what she's doing. She always does.
We move closer to the men, taking our time, letting the energy build. The club is crowded, but in this space, it feels intimate. The guys are more than happy to shower us with attention, their eyes following our every move. Stasi grins, giving them exactly what they want, her body an invitation. But I... I'm not giving that away so easily. I know how to command attention without giving in.
I keep my gaze fixed on Nate for a few moments longer, letting the tension build between us. His jaw is tight, his eyes never leaving me. For a moment, it feels like the world has fallen away, like there's only him and me in the room.
I break the gaze, moving away from him just as Stasi and I glide across the floor, our bodies moving together, making the most of the music and the attention. I can feel their eyes, but Nate's gaze lingers, and it leaves me feeling exposed. But not in a bad way. It's like he's challenging me without even saying a word.
When the music picks up again, I turn to face the crowd once more, my body shifting fluidly as I keep moving, letting the rhythm take over. I can hear the men cheering, but my focus is elsewhere now. My heart is beating faster, but it's not the music that's speeding it up. It's Nate's eyes, following me like a predator watching its prey. He's not saying anything, but I can feel the weight of his attention.
It feels dangerous. And that makes it all the more exciting.
I'm performing my usual routine, feeling the spotlight warm against my skin, when I catch a glimpse of him.
He's sitting at the bar, but it's not like the usual faces I see in here. There's something about him. Tall, broad shoulders, a sharp jawline with a stubble of a mustache that matches his black hair that falls behind his ears, and a posture that screams both power and tension. His presence stands out in the crowd, and the moment my eyes land on him, I feel something shift. It's subtle, but I feel it, like a quiet tug at the back of my mind.
He's watching me, but there's no overt lust in his gaze. It's different. It's like he's taking me in, studying me from afar, sizing me up in a way that makes my pulse pick up just a little.
I've seen my fair share of men staring at me like they own me, and trust me, I've learned how to handle them. But there's something about the way he's looking at me that makes me pause. He doesn't look like someone who's here to throw money at me or make me dance for his amusement. There's a quiet intensity in the way he watches—almost like he's trying to figure me out, rather than just enjoy the view.
I try to keep my focus, moving with the music, but it's hard not to be aware of him. His eyes follow me, steady and unblinking. It's not the usual hungry gaze; it's more like he's studying me, noticing the details that others overlook.
I'm used to attention, but something about him... makes me feel like he's seeing something deeper, something no one else cares to look for. And that makes me a little more aware of every move I make. I find myself instinctively adjusting, making sure I don't break the rhythm, even though the strange pull between us is making it hard to concentrate.
I should probably look away, move on, but I don't. I can't.
For some reason, I'm drawn to him.
I shake off these thoughts and do my best to continue putting on my show. I can't let one guy throw me off. My life relied on this job.
Before long, I was finished with my set. I let my eyes wonder to his brown ones one last time. I felt my heartbeat jump as his eyes remained laser focused on me the whole time.
I wondered what was going through his head? Was he disgusted by me and what I do? Maybe curious and intrigued? Well whatever it was, it wasn't my concern. Since when did I care about what these men think?
Apparently now.
"Sexy lady" Stasi wrapped her pale arm around my waist when I got off stage.
"Did you realize that you had nearly every one of those Carolina Storm players foaming at the mouth" she laughed as we walked together.
"Is that who they all were?" I asked. I had obviously noticed the group of very attractive men but clearly my mind was on one particular player.
"Duh, they only stop by like every other week only this time Nate Griffith was with them and he's never with them. Probably thinks he's too stuck up for this place" she rolled her eyes.
"Which one was Nate?" I wondered but I had an idea.
"The one with the whole Aaron Taylor-Johnson vibe and the one who nearly turned pale watching you girl" she laughed.
"Ugh, what I would do to have his attention" she groaned dramatically.
"What's so special about him?" I suddenly wanted to know more about this man.
She gave me a knowing look.
"Well A) he's fucking hot B) he's fucking rich and C) he's fucking rich and hot" she rolled out like it was obvious.
I laughed with an eye roll.
"I guess what they say about being rich and hot can get you a lot of places is true" I snorted.
"I mean he's also crazy talented. At least that what my sugar daddy says, I don't watch the sport.. or any sport for that matter" she hummed.
I laughed again. Neither did I. Didn't have the time and also didn't care nearly enough to spend any of my free time watching men have a "who has a bigger dick" contest.
But I can't deny he was hot and a part of me felt something. I'm sure I'm imagining it as it's been a long night. That was my last night of the show anyway.
"Billie, do you want to stay an extra 30 for a VIP with Stasi?" My manager asked me.
I looked at Stasi who was beaming with pleading eyes. She loved to work with me and honestly the two of us on stage is pretty hot.
But I was so fucking tired... but the money. I needed the extra money right now for rent.
It was just 30 minutes...
"Sure" I sighed.
Stasi excitedly clapped her hands.
"Let's go lady" she kissed my cheek and grabbed my hand to the VIP section of the club.
Stasi was a very petite girl, at 5'2 I felt like a giant at my 5'5 next to her. She had crimped up long black hair and always had long black nails to match. She was beautiful with her pale skin and black inked tattoos. She was the opposite aesthetic of me, dark and almost gothic while I chose to wear brighter and pastel colors to contrast my skin.
The air in the VIP room is thick with smoke, expensive cologne, and the faint smell of whiskey. The music pulses in the background, but here, in this secluded space, everything feels louder. Every beat of the bass, every breath, every whisper. The lights are dim, casting soft shadows across the faces of the men sitting in plush leather seats. It's a familiar setting, the kind of private show I've done a thousand times, but tonight feels different.
Tonight, I can feel their eyes on me in a way that makes my skin prickle.
Stasi leans in close as we both make our way to the stage. Her lips curve into a playful smirk. She's confident, like she owns this place, and I can't help but admire that. She gives me a quick wink before we start moving, our bodies syncing with the rhythm of the music, the movement instinctive.
We've done this routine together so many times it's second nature, there's a chemistry between us, a kind of unspoken understanding. We're partners in this, each of us playing off the other's energy. The crowd loves it, their attention a constant pulse behind us. I can see their faces, but I don't focus on them. Instead, I focus on the music, the way it flows through me, pushing my body to move with it, to let go.
The guys in the VIP section are talking, laughing, and I can't help but glance over. That's when I spot him. Nate.
He's sitting with the other men, but his eyes are locked on me. There's no mistaking it. Even from across the room, the intensity of his gaze feels like a pull, like it's pulling me toward him. I swallow, forcing myself to keep my composure, but I can't ignore how it feels to be under his stare—like he's watching every movement I make, every curve of my body, studying it with a focus that makes me shiver.
Stasi notices my brief glance, her eyes following mine. She smiles knowingly but doesn't say anything. She knows exactly what she's doing. She always does.
We move closer to the men, taking our time, letting the energy build. The club is crowded, but in this space, it feels intimate. The guys are more than happy to shower us with attention, their eyes following our every move. Stasi grins, giving them exactly what they want, her body an invitation. But I... I'm not giving that away so easily. I know how to command attention without giving in.
I keep my gaze fixed on Nate for a few moments longer, letting the tension build between us. His jaw is tight, his eyes never leaving me. For a moment, it feels like the world has fallen away, like there's only him and me in the room.
I break the gaze, moving away from him just as Stasi and I glide across the floor, our bodies moving together, making the most of the music and the attention. I can feel their eyes, but Nate's gaze lingers, and it leaves me feeling exposed. But not in a bad way. It's like he's challenging me without even saying a word.
When the music picks up again, I turn to face the crowd once more, my body shifting fluidly as I keep moving, letting the rhythm take over. I can hear the men cheering, but my focus is elsewhere now. My heart is beating faster, but it's not the music that's speeding it up. It's Nate's eyes, following me like a predator watching its prey. He's not saying anything, but I can feel the weight of his attention.
It feels dangerous. And that makes it all the more exciting.
End of Burning Ice Chapter 4. Continue reading Chapter 5 or return to Burning Ice book page.