CHAPTER ONE

The Klub!, Dublin City
October, Halloween Night

Jett stood behind the curtain at the top of the stage and waited for Mystique to finish her dance. She could just see her friend through the bright flashing lights. As Mystique spun on the pole at the end of the stage her pink feather boa swirled behind her. The high-cut matching pink thong was the only other garment Mystique wore. The men below the stage whooped and called to her, hoping she'd remove the thong as well.

Music pounded over the sound system, making the room vibrate. Jett could feel it thrumming through her. She swallowed hard against the lump in her throat, pushing it down into her belly where it lodged uncomfortably--she was up next.

This wasn't her first time on stage, she'd already danced twice tonight, but dancing always made her nervous. Not the actual dancing. She liked to dance. It was dancing here, in this place. She wasn't comfortable dancing in such a public place, worse, she was nervous about being discovered.

When the music came to an end, Mystique slid off the pole and pranced toward Jett, blowing a kiss to the men behind her as the house lights came up.

Mystique passed Jett on her way backstage, giving her a wink as she flew by. A few pink feathers came loose from her boa and trailed along in the woman's wake.

"What are you supposed to be, anyway?" she called to Mystique.

"A flamingo. You? "

"Meow!" said Jett, clawing the air with her long nails.

Mystique giggled. "Go get 'em pussy cat!" Jett chuckled and turned her gaze back to the curtains.

The men out there were an unforgiving lot. They were already keyed up and knew she was about to come out.

Jett had developed a following at The Klub! quickly since she started just a couple months ago, but she didn't think she'd ever get over the pre-performance jitters. If it weren't for that she would have pursued her musical interests sooner.

Dancing allowed her a certain amount of anonymity though. Here, she could work in disguise and no one would be the wiser. Or at least she hoped.

Jett took a breath then looked over to the house DJ, nodding at him to start the music. He raised his finger as he queued the music then pointed to her as it started up.

Instantly, Jett stepped onto the stage. With each high step she took her hips swayed exaggeratedly to the distinctive saxophones and violins of her theme music.

Etta James's powerful voice came up as Jett reached mid-stage. She looked each man in the eye as she moved toward the pole. She picked a few men out of those sitting stage-side as she mouthed the lyrics.

I don't want you to be no slave, Etta wailed as Jett pointed to a man on her right who practically melted in his chair.

I don't want to work all day, she pointed to a man on her left whose hopes of being singled out were dashed as she passed him by.

But I want you to be true, she pointed to a third man, back to the right, who nodded vigorously that he would.

As she reached the pole, she'd been scanning the stage for her victim, dubbed Mr. Tonight. Sometimes it took her a couple turns before she settled on some aging businessman who looked like he could use some cheering up. But when her eyes settled on a ginger-haired man at the center of the stage she knew she'd found her target.

She pointed to him, locking eyes with him, mouthing the lyrics directly at him, I just wanna make love to you.

His gaze was so intense she nearly forgot her next move. It was almost as if he could see through her disguise. His gaze seemed to strip her naked. Strip her of the black Lycra full-body cat suit and matching tail; remove the wig that hung waist length in straight shiny black strands, including the cat ears pinned in place; and wipe clear the Halloween make-up she wore tonight that included whiskers to complete the feline dance costume. It was as if he saw her and not her character, and it caught her off guard.

Most of the dancers avoided looking men in the eye, but not Jett. It was part of the act. Make each man think you were dancing just for him was her motto. That's what got her big tips. By the time she'd step off the stage her thong would be straining with euro notes the men would tuck into it.

There was something about this man though. He unnerved her. Certainly he was good looking, though not stunningly so. But his eyes were incredible. Jett could see them even through the bright stage lights. The whiskey color was piercing, intent, smoldering. A lover's eyes.

She shivered at that thought as she rounded the pole again and flicked her tail at him. The panic she felt was unfounded. She didn't know the man so she shouldn't be assigning emotions to his gaze.

Shaking herself mentally, Jett got on with dancing, smiling seductively as Etta crooned. She pranced back up the stage away from him, continuing to tease him with her body. She cast him a glance over her shoulder before stopping in front of men waving their money at her. She let them slide the notes under the velvet strap of one of her black pumps.

One man tried to stroke her leg. She slapped his hand away, playfully wagging her finger at him. The look she gave him told him he was a very bold boy. She winked then danced away.

After stopping at a couple others to accept their gratuities, Jett returned to the end of the stage to continue her dance for Mr. Tonight.

She gyrated to the music, her gaze locked with his. It was time to shift gears in her performance. She slid her arms free of the cat suit, first one and then the other. She felt for the zipper in the back and, while holding the top of the suit over her breasts, she slid the zipper down. At the same time she turned away from him to reveal her bare back as the suit parted. The other men around the stage whistled and made catcalls as she slowly bent over to slip the material over her hips and down her legs, careful not to rip off the tail attached to her thong.

Jett continued moving to the music as she straightened and kicked the suit off the stage, out of her way, and turned back to Mr. Tonight. More whistles sounded as she flipped her hair over her shoulder to reveal the two-piece bra and thong set she'd been wearing under the cat suit. The black velvet was piped with orange cording, and the front of the thong was stitched with a sequined black cat. The tail remained attached at the back.

Halloween at The Klub! was nothing if not festive. All the dancers were wearing a sexed-up version of a traditional Halloween costume tonight and all around the room were black and orange streamers, jack o'lanterns, skeletons, black cats and everything else that represented the traditional Halloween. This year Jimmy Molloy, The Klub!'s owner, had splurged by putting bowls of Smarties on the table beside the salted peanuts. Classy, Jett had thought sarcastically.

She leaned back against the pole and pulled the black velvet tail between her legs, rubbing it over her belly. She arched her back and closed her eyes in mock-arousal.

When she opened her eyes again, Mr. Tonight's eyes burned with desire. She shouldn't have been surprised. Her dance was meant to entice. But this man's eyes sparked embers within her that she'd fought for so long to dampen, and found that for the first time her dance was actually arousing her too.

Focus, focus, she chanted to herself and tuned back to the stage.

Judging from the lyrics she could tell that the music was coming to an end so she skipped to the top of the stage and quickly slipped out of her pumps, tucking the euro notes into her thong. She concentrated on the pole on the opposite end of the stage. For this she would need total concentration or she'd end up sprawled embarrassingly across a few tables, or worse.

Waiting for the right moment in the music, she leapt into action. She skipped down the stage, grabbed the pole and swung her body out over the ginger-haired man. As her legs came around she hooked the pole with one leg and slid to the stage floor with the pole between her legs. Holding on to it with one hand, she bent over backwards, practically into the man's lap, as she rose and fell erotically against the pole. Her free hand waved in the air as if she rode a bucking bronco, her hips pumping against the pole. The crowd went wild.

Everyone but Mr. Tonight. He just sat there with his arms crossed, his eyes following her every move.

Blood rushed to her head as she flipped her head back up and spun around the pole again.

She came around to the front of the pole once more. She put her back to it, braced her legs apart slightly and let her arms hang loose at her sides, feigning exhaustion. Her head lolled forward as she watched the fair-haired man. The metal of the pole was warm from the lights and her use of it. She could feel it hard and hot against her spine as her legs slowly pumped her up and down against it.

It was time.

Jett came to stand in front of the ginger-haired man and pulsed her hips in his direction then took hold of the clasp at the front of her bra-top. The velvet cups were soft against her palms as she pushed her breasts together in his direction, licking her lips invitingly.

She released the clasp and instantly her breasts fell free. The crowd was on their feet now, cheering, but Mr. Tonight only sat there staring at her with smoldering eyes, as if he would leap on the stage and take her right there.

Her heart leapt. His gaze was very effective. She had to shake herself again. It was part of the act, she reminded herself. Her job was to turn the men on. That's all. It wouldn't do her any good to get turned on too. Especially by a man who just sat there motionless. If it weren't for his smoldering eyes she would have thought the man had passed out because he hadn't moved a muscle since she started dancing.

She slid the bra-top off her shoulders and twirled it in the air before dropping it in his lap with a wink.

It was then that he moved to take the top in his fingers. He smiled in appreciation, amusement lighting his eyes finally. He had a killer smile too, she noted.

She shot him a kiss as she gyrated to the music before she rounded the pole once more, putting it between them. She let her hair fall over her shoulders, shadowing her face and breasts as she cozied up to the pole, preparing for her signature ending.
She let the weight of her body pull her around to the front of the pole. Grasping it in both hands, she leaned against it and stoked it sensually between her breasts and thighs.

Stretching her hands up the pole once more, she gripped it tightly then coiled her legs around it. She grasped the warm metal between her feet and slowly hauled herself up, stopping with each thrust to extend a long shapely leg before grasping the pole again. She'd seen this stunt on TV once on a circus program and adapted it for the pole. She was sure it would go over well in The Klub!. And it had. Very well indeed.

The crowd howled and whistled, knowing what was coming. No other dancer at The Klub! could do this move, and if Jett was honest with herself, she could only just manage it herself. But the more she practiced the stronger she got.

At the top now, she clenched the pole between her thighs and feet and sat back against her heels. She bent backwards until the pole was firmly nestled between her legs. She could feel the warm metal against her bottom as she carefully took one foot off the pole, and then the other, letting her hands and arms bear her weight. She then leaned back as far as her arms would let her go.
She pushed her legs over her head and wrapped her ankles around the pole tightly. Once she had a firm grip she released one hand and then the other and bent all the way back until her back was against the pole and she was hanging upside-down.

The applause and whistles was so loud it almost drowned out the music. Even upside down she could see the bouncers moving in to keep the men off the stage. Her heart pounded as she felt her grip starting to slip. She knew she must work quickly to stay in time with the music, but not so fast that she'd end up falling and hurting herself.

Jett grasped the pole below her head for support, curled one leg around the pole then stretched her other leg straight up along the pole toward the ceiling. Finally, releasing her hands from the pole she brought them up to stroke her breasts, her ribcage and belly before loosening her handhold on the pole, letting her body slowly slide down.

Just before she reached the stage floor she pulled herself up, grasped the pole with both hands once more and swung her legs forward in a V and came down gently to land on her bottom. She wrapped her ankles around the pole again and leaned over backwards and off the stage, practically into Mr. Tonight's lap and blew him a kiss before hauling herself up again.

The other patrons had to be appeased before the music ended so she quickly trotted up the stage. She swiveled her hips seductively as she allowed the men to add a few more euro notes to her thong straps before the song ended.

And as it did, Jett looked back over her shoulder to Mr. Tonight, kissed the pads of her fingers as if to blow him a kiss then, with a loud whack, slapped them on the fleshy curve of her bottom. She winked then trotted up the stage, retrieved her gear and disappeared behind the heavy black curtain as the whoops and catcalls continued.

"You're a mad woman, Jett," Mystique giggled as Jett entered the dressing room. She'd passed other dancers on the way back so the dressing room was empty now except for the two of them.

Jett stepped up to her dressing table beside Mystique's. She removed the money from her thong then pulled on a robe.

"What makes you say that?" Jett asked her friend, removing the black velvet thong and slipping into sensible panties. Once she had the robe adjusted she sat down at her dressing table and started sorting through her tips.

Mystique glanced quickly at her. "You tease those guys relentlessly." Mystique had finished her costume change while Jett was on stage.

"They love it. They know it's part of the act," she told Mystique.

"Maybe so, but that guy you were playing with looked serious to me. I'd be careful if I were you," Mystique warned.

Jett thought about it and was sure Mystique was right. He could be dangerous. He could cause her to forget the promise she made to herself when she moved to Dublin last year. No men allowed until she learned how to appreciate a good relationship. She'd never find Mr. Right if she let him use her. She was tired of being a doormat and it was time to learn to stand on her own feet. And Mr. Tonight was no Mr. Right. The kind of man she wanted wasn't the kind to frequent The Klub!.

Jett snickered to herself. No better way to learn independence than to hide in a wig and dance naked for strange men.
"I'll be careful," she finally promised.

Silence filled the room as the two women went about their tasks in companionable silence.

Mystique stubbed her cigarette out and turned to change her make-up for her next dance as Jett touched up hers. She wouldn't take the chance of being recognized on the street, even by Mystique. The Halloween make up gave Jett an added sense of safety tonight.

Mystique stopped mid-eyeliner application and turned back to Jett. "Do you ever wonder?"

"Wonder what?" Jett asked as she applied the bright red lip liner.

"Do you ever wonder if you'll meet someone special enough that you'll want to give all this up?" Mystique's voice sounded wistful. Jett put down her lip liner and turned to her friend. It sounded like Mystique wanted to say something to her and, as always, Jett had an open ear. She waited for her to continue.

"I mean, there's got to be a guy out there meant for each of us, right?" she asked.

"I'd like to think so," Jett agreed. "But I don't hold out much hope that I'll find the one I'm looking for in a place like this." Jett gave Mystique a slanted grin.

"You don't think so?"

"No, I don't. Look at the losers out there tonight. If they had women, or women they appreciated, they certainly wouldn't be in a place like this. The stage is lined with homely, overworked, stressed out and bored men," said Jett. "I don't want someone else's baggage."

"What about that guy you danced for tonight?" asked Mystique. "His eyes nearly melted the pole out there." She giggled.

Jett grinned. "Yeah, he was fine to look at, but who's missing him at home tonight?" Mystique nodded.

"Why do you stay if you're looking for something else in your life?" Jett asked a moment later.

Mystique grinned. "The money, fool. It's brilliant. I've got myself a terrific savings. I'm going to buy a house when I retire," she said wistfully. "Something posh in D2. Maybe then I'll find someone."

"Sounds like a nice dream." Jett smiled, knowing Mystique's expectations were lofty. D2 was the city's affluent area. D2 meant big money.

"I think so, too." Mystique paused, and then asked, "Do you ever wonder what your guy will look like? What he'll do for a living?"
"Sometimes. What about you?"

"Yeah," she sighed.

"So, go'wan. Tell me," Jett encouraged.

A big smile crossed Mystique's lips. "He's a hunk of course. Has money enough to support me. Treats me well. Has a nice car--the usual."

Jett sighed to herself. Mystique had her own growing up to do. They'd never talked about age, but Mystique was decidedly younger.

"What about love? If he loved you then all that material stuff wouldn't matter, would it?" she asked.

Mystique laughed, incredulous. "You're kidding, right?"

Jett was deadly serious and she knew it showed on her face as Mystique sat back in her chair to listen. "The guy I spend the rest of my life with will be one who loves me. I don't care about how much money he has or what he can give me--outside love of course. He'll forgive my past sins, accept me for the woman I am, and most importantly, he'll love me. Just me, for me, not who he wants me to be or who he thinks I should be. Just me."

"Wow, Jett. I never knew you were such a romantic," Mystique told her.

"I guess I am. I never realized it either until my...someone told me about how he met his wife." Jett caught herself just in time before opening herself up more than she'd intended. Her heart beat anxiously at the near flub. When she took this job she didn't intend to make friends with anyone. She was only in it for the money like all the other girls. She had her own dreams and the money she was tucking away would take her there. But she found it difficult not to open up to Mystique as their friendship grew. How could she though? She didn't even know her friend's real name.

"So tell me," Mystique continued, grinning devilishly. "If you found your Mr. Right, what would you do with him?"

Jett raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if Mr. Right came into your life, what would your first night be like? Would you insist he take you to Paris for a wild weekend? Or to Venice and make him take you for a gondola ride on the Grand Canal? What would you do? I rather fancy the wild weekend in Paris." Mystique wiggled her eyebrows.

Jett giggled. Her friend touched on something she'd thought about quite a bit, that first time with Mr. Right.

"Hmmm...," she mused, her lips turning up at one edge in a thoughtful grin. "If I met Mr. Right I would take him into the hills to a secluded cottage in the woods. We'd spend as much time as we could together talking and getting to know each other. Evenings would be spent by firelight, afternoons walking in the woods."

Mystique gave her a shove. "What about the s-e-x?" She wiggled her eyebrows again. "You can't get him to a mountain hideaway and not do the nasty."

Mystique was nothing if not blunt. Jett chuckled. "I wouldn't call it that, but, if the timing was right..."

Mystique smirked. "You're definitely a hopeless romantic, girl. I can see the hearts and flowers circling your head. Oh, wait, what's that I hear? Love birds chirping?" Mystique teased, cupping her ear.

Jett laughed and batted her friend's hand away from her ear. "Give over. It's my dream, not yours."

"I know. I'm just having a go off you," said Mystique. "So, I know where Paris is. Where's your cottage?"

Without thinking, Jett said, "In the West Cork gaeltacht." As soon as the words passed between her lips she knew she'd said too much. She cast Mystique a side-glance, but the woman didn't seem phased by the revelation. She was putting her hair into matching plaits. The costume for Mystique's next dance also included a pink plaid mini skirt and a lollipop.

"Sounds nice, actually," she said, rising finally. "Well, it's show time." Jett watched her friend flounce out of the dressing room, her plaits bouncing behind her.

Jett turned to look at her reflection in the dressing table mirror. The woman in the mirror wasn't the one she'd seen that morning in her bathroom mirror, cat whiskers aside. Jett had spent the last year in Dublin trying to find herself. Was this who she really was all along, an exotic dancer? And if she were, would Mr. Right really want her?

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