THE HOCKEY CAPTAIN AND HIS VIRGIN STRIPPER

CHAPTER 5

HELENA’S POV.

I just finished my solo dance and went backstage. I put the crumpled bills into my bag and sighed.

“Red Cherry, someone requested a private dance from you,” the floor manager called, stepping backstage.

“Who?” I asked. I was surprised anyone would ask for me tonight. It was slow, and most of the girls had already gone home because they were barely making anything.

“He’s new.” The manager wiggled his brows, the same greedy expression he always wore when he smelled money. “Big spender too. Asked for you directly. VIP Room Four.” He grinned. “Give him your best show, darling. I want him coming back.”

I nodded and touched up my lipstick in the mirror before pulling on my black mask.

“My usual song,” I told the DJ quietly.

If this man really had money, then I wasn’t holding back tonight.

I pushed open the VIP room door and stepped inside with practiced confidence.

The room was dim, lit only by soft amber lights spilling across the leather couch in the corner. A man sat there with his legs stretched out casually, dressed in black trousers and a white button-down with the top buttons undone. His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, exposing strong forearms dusted with veins.

His head remained lowered even after I entered.

Drunk, maybe.

“Hi,” I said smoothly. “I’m Red Cherry.”

He stirred at the sound of my voice, then slowly lifted his head. A smirk spread across his face.

“Hi, Cherry.”

My stomach dropped.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Kaine’s smile only deepened.

“Is that how you greet your clients?” His gaze moved lazily over my body. “Doesn’t sound very professional.”

For half a second, I considered turning around and walking straight back out.

But Kaine noticed.

“Running already?” he drawled.

I straightened my shoulders immediately. “No.”

Something amused flickered in his eyes as he lifted his whiskey glass. “Then dance.”

I held his gaze as the music played.

My hips rolled first and then my hands followed, gliding up my thighs, over my waist, dragging slowly along my skin like I wanted him to feel every inch of it. I let my fingers slip higher, tracing the curve of my chest before cupping my breasts, pressing just enough to draw attention.

His eyes stared at me hungrily. I smirked, biting my lower lips.

I turned around slowly, arching my back as I reached behind myself and unclasped my bra. The straps slid down my arms before I tossed the fabric aside carelessly. The air suddenly felt colder against my bare skin.

I moved towards him, until I was standing between his knees.

His legs parted instinctively to make room for me.

“Is this how you dance for everyone?” he asked quietly, his voice rough around the edges.

I circled him slowly, letting my fingertips hover just above his shoulder without touching.

“Does it matter?”

“It does.”

I stepped behind him, leaning down just enough for my lips to brush near his ear.

“Why?”

His jaw tightened.

“I don’t like other men seeing you like this.”

The words caught me off guard.

I pulled away slightly irritated.

“You don’t know me.”

Kaine turned his head just enough for our eyes to meet.

“Then explain it to me.” His voice softened, but somehow that made it worse. “Why are you a stripper?”

I wasn't doing this with him. I grabbed my bra from the floor quickly.

“This conversation is over.”

I turned toward the door.

“Careful, Helena.” he said, stopping me in my tracks.

“You wrote an entire article criticizing how much I enjoy using my family’s influence.” A pause. “So you already know exactly what I’m capable of.”

My jaw clenched.

Kaine leaned back against the couch, studying me carefully.

“How long do you think you’d last in this club if I decided you weren’t welcome here anymore?” he asked softly. “Or any club?”

Anger burned through me.

“Sit down, sweetheart.” He gestured toward the chair beside him. “Have a drink with me. I wouldn’t want you writing another heartbreaking article about how terrible I am.”

If looks could kill, Kaine would’ve dropped dead instantly.

Instead, he simply tossed his jacket toward me.

“Put it on.”

I caught it automatically, suddenly hyperaware of my exposed body and heat crept into my cheeks as I wrapped the jacket tightly around myself.

Kaine tapped the chair beside him again.

Reluctantly, I sat.

“So tell me, Helena,” he murmured, turning slightly toward me. “Why didn’t you show up at the café?”

I swallowed hard.

I had planned to go.

Until the hospital called saying my mother had relapsed and been rushed into the ICU.

But I refused to tell him that.

Refused to let someone like Kaine look at me with pity.

“I got busy,” I said quietly.

Kaine swirled the amber liquid in his glass.

“You’re lucky I’m in a good mood tonight,” he said. “Because I actually have an offer for you.”

I frowned. “What kind of offer?”

His lips curved slowly.

“I’ll get your scholarship back. Your friend’s too.” His eyes locked onto mine. “And in return, you’ll be my fake girlfriend.”

Silence.

Then disbelief.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

I stared at him, trying to understand what kind of twisted game he was playing.

“And if I say no?”

Without answering, Kaine picked up his phone and unlocked it.

Then he turned the screen toward me. And it was a video taken a few minutes ago of me stripping shamelessly in front of Kaine.

“Are you blackmailing me?” I gasped.

“No, sweetheart. I’m asking you to play fake girlfriend for a while. In return? You get your precious position back, your reputation stays intact, and that cute little secret of yours never sees the light of day. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

Tears burned behind my eyes, but I refused to let them fall.

I hated him.

God, I hated him so much.

But all I could think about was my mother lying in that hospital bed. The bills piling up. The scholarship I couldn’t afford to lose.

Kaine stood and walked toward me slowly until there was barely any space left between us.

His fingers tilted my chin upward.

“So,” he said quietly, “Is it a yes?”