Falling For My Stepsister’s Father

Chapter 15

“Bee,” I called gingerly, leaning closer so she could hear me over the pounding music, my eyes darting around the overheated room, “when you said party… you didn’t exactly mean a strip club, did you?”

Isabel smirked immediately, her eyes wide and glinting with mischief as she practically bounced forward, excitement radiating off her.

“Of course I meant a strip club, munchkin. You weren’t listening.”

I was almost certain she hadn’t said that. I would have remembered something like that. But I didn’t argue. The words felt useless here anyway.

The air inside the club was thick. Hot. Heavy with perfume, sweat, alcohol, and something electric that made my skin hum. Women moved around in nothing but lingerie, confident, unapologetic, glowing in their own skin. Some laughed loudly, others walked slowly, hips rolling like they knew exactly who was watching them.

The men were no better. Burly. Broad. Hot and sweaty. They wore boxers that clung tightly to thick thighs and left nothing to the imagination. The outline of their bodies was impossible to ignore.

A shudder rushed through me.

How did Isabel even find this place?

“Come on,” she said, gripping my wrist and dragging me toward the stage. “The men are dancing.”

And they were.

Three men occupied the stage, bodies moving in slow, controlled rhythm. Muscles flexed under shining skin as they rolled their hips and dragged their hands over their own bodies. The crowd hollered loudly, money flying through the air, bills sticking to sweat-slick skin.

“f**k,” Bee muttered beside me, eyes glued to the stage. “They’re so hot.”

And they were.

Watching them move made every hair on my body stand. My chest tightened as my imagination betrayed me, replacing them with myself. Me on that stage. Me under those lights. People shouting, whistling, calling my name.

My stomach clenched hard.

No, Sera.

You left that life long ago.

But God help me—I missed it. Sometimes more than I wanted to admit.

One of the dancers suddenly reached down and grabbed Bee’s wrist, pulling her onto the stage before she could protest. She let out a loud shriek, half fear, half thrill. He sat her down and danced around her, slow and teasing, grinding just close enough to make the crowd scream.

Isabel looked horrified. Then delighted. Then completely undone.

The screams grew louder, and my best friend—my stepsister—was having the time of her life.

I couldn’t stop the laughter that burst from my lips.

“Save me,” she mouthed dramatically.

I just laughed harder.

I let her enjoy herself and walked away, heading toward the bar. I needed a drink.

“Vodka and tonic, please,” I told the bartender.

He winked and turned to make it.

That was when my ears picked up raised voices beside me.

“What do you think we should do, Sam? The boss will freak out.”

The first man dragged his fingers through his hair, pacing in short steps.

“I don’t know, Frank, don’t you have any one you can call” the second man snapped, chewing harshly on his thumb as he stared at his phone. “We have, like, twenty minutes.”

Frank huffed. “You think I just have an array of girls lining up in my one-room apartment?”

I told myself not to listen.

I failed.

“What about Anna?” Sam suggested. “Can’t she come tonight? We’ll offer double.”

“Anna’s mother is sick,” Frank shot back. “She won’t come even if we offer five times the money.”

“f**k,” Sam muttered. “We’re in deep shit.”

“Here you go, milady.”

I startled slightly as the bartender slid my drink toward me. I forced a smile and took it, fingers tightening around the glass.

Stand up and leave, Sera.

Right now.

I didn’t.

The bartender leaned over the counter, smirking.

“You idiots still haven’t gotten a girl?”

Sam whipped around. “Who are you calling idiots, fool?”

The bartender didn’t even flinch. “That’ll be the least of your problems if the boss comes down and sees an empty stage.”

Sam looked like he might jump across the counter. Frank grabbed his arm, pulling him back.

“Ignore him,” Frank muttered. “This is bigger than that.”

Sam shrugged him off and rubbed both hands down his face, breathing hard. After a moment, Frank straightened, resolve snapping into place.

“Go to the website,” he said firmly. “Post it now. Late twenties. Five-five to five-seven. Not too fat, not too skinny. Black hair. Must be trained in pole dancing and strip services.” He paused. “Offer fifty thousand dollars. Just for tonight.”

My heart slammed so hard it felt like it dropped straight into my stomach.

Fifty thousand dollars.

My fingers shook around the glass. I hadn’t even registered that I ordered a drink until then. I downed it in one gulp, the sharp burn grounding me, waking me up.

“Here you are!”

I jerked as Isabel appeared beside me, flushed and breathless, excitement still buzzing in her eyes.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

I forced a smile. “I got you a drink.” I pressed the glass into her hand and stepped away, needing space. Distance. Air.

She followed me anyway.

“God, did you see the way that man danced on me?” she gushed, fanning herself. “I felt like I was on fire.”

“I saw,” I said dryly. “You looked like you were on top of the world.”

She giggled. “Right? I want to do it again.” Then she grinned wickedly. “This time—you.”

I was already shaking my head. “No, Bee. You know I don’t do well being the center of attention.”

Lies. Too many lies.

She studied me, then smiled softly. “That’s a shame. With your body? Killer curves.”

I smiled back, but my mind wasn’t with her.

It was stuck on Sam.

On Frank.

On the empty stage.

On that number.

They wouldn’t have to know it was me. I could wear a mask. Hide my face.

But My tattoos.

Isabel would know instantly.

Fuck.

We returned to the bar. Bee chatted happily with the bartender, laughing as she ordered another drink, completely unaware of the storm raging inside me.

Frank was still there.

He paced now, biting down on his thumb again, staring at his phone like it was mocking him. The bartender kept poking at him, throwing sarcastic comments his way, clearly enjoying the tension.

I watched it all.

The urge pressed hard against my chest, loud and relentless. My body remembered things my mind tried desperately to forget—the lights, the music, the power, the control.

I wanted it.

I wanted that position so badly it hurt.

Then Frank swore under his breath, shoved his phone into his pocket, and stormed off, muttering to himself.

That was when reality snapped back into place.

“Bee,” I said quickly, sliding off my stool, “do you mind if I use the restroom? I’ll be right back.”

She turned toward me. “You want me to come with you?”

I shook my head, already moving. “No. I’ll be quick.”

I headed in the same direction Sam went, my heart pounding, my decision already made.

I guess I was dancing tonight after all.