The Dancer (Dark Side of the Moon #1)

Chapter One

Quinn

Darkness cloaks me as I step out on stage. My right hand wraps around the cold metal pole, the contact reminding me exactly where I am. The slow sensual beat of the music filters through the overhead speaker system, floating through my veins like the blood that keeps me alive.

“For your pleasure, here is The Dancer!” a deep male voice announces enthusiastically.

The lights switch on, and my routine starts. I sway my hips seductively, twisting and writhing around the pole. Slowly, I divest myself of the different shades of blue clothing I am wearing. I have come to hate any and every shade of blue now, but it’s part of my stage persona.

The Dancer.

Lewd comments are shouted in my direction but I filter them out, preferring to focus on the beat of the music and my routine. I allow my body and the bass to lead me as it always does. The less I am wearing, the less constrictive my movements become, and soon I can freely shimmy up the pole before descending with my legs firmly above my head.

I have been doing this for three years.

Five shows a week.

I am a burlesque dancer.

Yes, I take off most of my clothes, but unlike a stripper, the men never get to see the parts they actually want to. We retain some form of modesty, even though it isn’t much. When I started this job, I thought it would be more like it is in the movies, and the truth is that it isn’t. You never feel like a star on stage, just another piece of meat to be ogled. When I was younger I dreamed of using my degree in dance and music to create some beautiful, unforgettable work of art. But life rarely gives us what we want and no one wants to hire someone with a useless degree.

No one except Abel, the owner of Dark Side of the Moon.

By the end of my set, I am straddling a wooden chair with two large blue feathers clutched to my chest, covering my breasts.

I don’t look at the men, instead preferring to stare just above them. I have a practiced, sultry smile pasted on my face as the crowd loudly applauds and whistles. The lights dim and I am able to escape backstage without the chance of anyone seeing something they shouldn’t.

“Girl, I love watching you!” one of the new girls exclaims as I descend the stairs into the shared dressing room.

“Thanks, love,” I reply with yet another fake smile.

She’s been here less than a week, so she is still excited about this job. That will change eventually. I used to enjoy my job, and I’m good at it, but it is slowly draining the life out of me. I want to find a mate who can love and accept me for who I am, but I can’t see any self-respecting male claiming me. No one wants a mate who takes off her clothes for a living. Especially not for the viewing pleasure of strange men.

It’s been years since I gave up on finding my fated mate, deciding to settle on simply trying to be happy on my own.

Sitting at my station, wrapped in a cobalt blue silk robe, I stare at my reflection in the mirror. The makeup I applied earlier is still perfectly in place, and although I want to wipe it all off, I hold back. This job is my livelihood. I will play the part until I find something to replace it.

“Dancer!” Abel calls as he makes his way through the backstage area, weaving his way through half-dressed females. I hate the way he calls me that but no one uses their real names here. We are all assigned a persona and that is who you are from the moment you enter until the moment you leave.

Dancer, Singer, Ballerina, whatever he feels like calling us.

I watch the owner of Dark Side of the Moon stalk his way toward me. He is a typical Alpha. Broad shoulders and thick arms with massive hands. He has a permanent scowl fixed on his handsome face, his grey eyes always alert and scanning the surroundings.

“Yes, Abel,” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Why aren’t you dressed yet?” he demands.

“Jesus, Abel. I just finished my set. Can I have a moment to breathe?”

He studies me for a moment before nodding.

“Fine. But don’t keep our VIPs waiting too long. You were requested specifically.”

Abel turns and walks away without explaining further. He doesn’t have to, I know how it works. Whoever has the most money and power tonight will be deemed VIP by my boss. And they get to request their server.

It’s going to be a long fucking night.