Got Mine (Men of Trance Book 1) Read online

  I find the door with a sign that reads Stay the fuck out and I walk inside. There’s only one guy in the dressing room, but it already smells like ass.

  Ass and Armani.

  He looks up from his cell phone, so I step forward with my hand out. “I’m Theo.”

  He ignores my greeting and turns his attention back to his phone. “Thor.”

  “Great name.” I pull my hand back. “Loved the movie. Avengers: Civil War was better though. You a big Marvel fan, or you just like the name Thor?”

  I’m fucking rambling. It’s my nervous tick.

  Thor stands with a white towel wrapped around his waist and places his phone in his locker. “Hulk was already taken,” he informs me. “What kind of name is Theo?”

  “It’s my name.”

  Thor’s entire upper body moves up and down when he sighs. His chest is double the size of mine. I was feeling confident about my body, until now. I can see why Gio goes for the smooth, lean, look. He can’t compete with this beast. Who would want to?

  “You should change it,” Thor advises. “Nobody wants to fuck a guy named Theo.”

  I muster a fake laugh at my expense. He’s probably just fucking with me. I’m the new guy. I get it.

  I stand beside his locker and wait for him to smile or finally shake my hand. Instead, he pulls out a pair of tweezers and sets a mirror up on the shelf with no intention of being a nice guy. I lean in and look at Thor’s face real close. I point to his eyebrow and squint.

  “You missed one.”

  He pauses mid pluck and turns in my direction. “Where the fuck did Gio find you?”

  Before I answer, the dressing room door opens. Giovanni walks in with two other guys.

  “It’s gonna be a good night,” Gio announces. “I can feel it.”

  He sees me and stops.

  “My boy!” He greets me with a hug. “Look at this,” he addresses the room. “First day and he’s on time.”

  I blush at the attention and motion to the locker next to Thor’s. “Is it cool if I take this one?”

  “Yeah, man. Of course. Let me get you a chair.”

  Giovanni goes to the corner and pulls out a folded metal chair. He sets it up in front of my locker with lots of flare.

  “Fit for a king.”

  Thor and another guy grin at each other. I feel like an idiot, but I play along.

  “Thanks, Gio.” I set my duffel in the locker and sit down. As soon as my ass hits the seat, it crumbles beneath me.

  “Motherfucker,” I mumble as I look up at the ceiling.

  “You need to cut the carbs,” Thor jokes then holds out his hand. “They got me too.” He hoists me up and pats my back. “Welcome to Trance.”

  After Gio stops laughing, he introduces me to the other guys. I should’ve met them before my first night. Between Giovanni’s schedule and mine, we couldn’t find the time. As my mentor, he’s responsible for me. When you bring someone in, you get a piece of their cut for a few months. A finder’s fee. Giovanni didn’t bring me here to earn for him; he’s doing me a huge favor. Plus, Gio takes a lot of side jobs to support his lifestyle. He’s a huge label-whore.

  I shake hands with Rico and nod to Dain, who is shaving his chest with a pink razor.

  “Get some pictures taken and I’ll add you to my portfolio,” Rico says. “Wedding season is coming up. I can get you some side work.”

  “Oh yeah,” Gio says and high-fives Rico. “I love me some bridesmaids.”

  Gio is also a man-whore. I don’t think he actually gets paid for sex, but he’ll fuck anything.

  “For real though.” Rico pulls a card from his bag. “Here’s my number and email. Hit me up when you have some real pics. I don’t fuck with selfies.”

  “I know a guy,” Dain says and wipes his chest with a towel. “I’ll text you his number. You got a card?”

  Out of all the guys here, Dain is the closest to my build. He’s about six feet and probably weighs two twenty. He looks like a cop or solider. I bet he does both characters in his routines.

  “I don’t have a card,” I admit. “I didn’t realize I needed any.”

  Dain sighs. “You’re a businessman now. Start acting like one.” He places his card on top of Rico’s in my locker.

  Rico’s card is black with white writing. Nothing fancy, just his contact information. Dain’s card is what you expect a male entertainer to pass out. A shirtless picture of him with pair dog tags around his neck. The characters he portrays are listed on the back. Cop, military, business man, chef.

  “Women actually request sexy chefs?” I don’t know why I’m surprised. Sylvie loves watching the Food Network. I was foolish enough to think it was actually about the food.

  Dain nods. “Dude, you wouldn’t believe the freaky shit women ask us to do.” He points at Rico. “That mother fucker had to dress in a Santa suit and spank some chick for being naughty.”

  “Don’t remind me. I’m still working that one out in therapy.” Rico pulls a flask from his bag and takes a sip. “Dr. Daniels is a life saver.”

  “What about that time Jimmy came up with lady’s choice for the music,” Giovanni reminds them. “Imagine stripping to All About That Bass.” I try to picture it. “It can’t be done,” he declares. He’s dead serious. “That was the worst night ever.”

  “I’m not gonna lie; you guys are freaking me out.” The thought of being on the stage unprepared or asked to do some seriously kinky shit; it’s enough to end my career before it starts.

  “Shit, this is nothing.” Rico laughs as he pulls his shirt off. His chest is smallish considering his broad shoulders. He needs to increase his chest reps.

  I sit on a real chair and side-eye the rest of the room as they get ready for the show. I’m a city kid; we didn’t dress for gym class in school. Even when I played baseball, we went home to shower. I’ve never been naked in front of more than one person at a time, and that person was always a woman.

  “You gonna sit there all night or what?” Thor asks. “Or do need Gio to help you undress?”

  Gio flips Thor off without looking up from his phone.

  “It’s his first night, man. Cut him some slack. Four months ago you were puking before every show,” Rico reminds him.

  “Fuck you, Rico.” Thor walks past me towards the toilets. “I gotta take a shit.”

  Dain makes a puke sound, and Thor flinches at him. Dain falls into his locker laughing. If there’s one positive thing to take from this experience; it’s the comradery of the guys. They give each other shit, but it’s all in good fun. I miss hanging out with, well, dudes. My only social interactions are with Lulu and her Disney princess posse.

  I put my headphones on and run through my routine. Playing ball taught me that preparation is everything. I’ve been practicing day and night for the last month. I know I have it down. I’m not worried about the steps. It’s the other shit. Women jumping on stage, technical issues with the music, nobody clapping. It’s a lot to anticipate. A lot can go wrong.

  Someone taps my shoulder. I open my eyes and pull my headphones off.

  “Theo, can you hold this for me?” Rico says from behind my chair.

  “Sure.” I turn around and find a dick in my face. “What the fuck!” I jump back.

  “What? You’ve never seen a dick this pretty before?” Rico grabs his massive cock and points it at me. Not that it needs help, the thing practically stands on its own.

  “Dude, come on.” I back up.

  “Come where?” Rico moves towards me.

  Gio nudges his shoulder. “He’s seen your dick, now put that monster away.”

  Rico returns to his locker and pulls on a pair of black sweats. “I was just fuckin’ with the kid.”

  “Quit acting like you were born that way.” Dain looks at me and shakes his head. “He uses a pump.”

  I’ve heard about penis pumps. I thought they were bullshit. Some late-night infomercial crap that nobody has the balls to admit they tried.


  “Hey, I got two inches and twenty percent more girth,” Rico claims. “I can hook you up.”

  “I’m good,” I tell him. I don’t plan on going full nude, and now I know for sure that’s off the table. Between Thor’s biceps, Dain’s abs, and Rico’s dick—I’m starting to feel like I’m not cut out for this place. I still eat pasta and ice cream.

  “Twenty minutes,” Gio yells. “Theo, take off your fucking clothes.” He throws a pair of black sweats at me. “Get out of your head and get in the game.”

  Gio caught for me all through high school. He made me a better pitcher, and off the field, he made me a better man. When Leeyan came up pregnant, Gio was the only one that told me I would make a good father. He’s always believed in me. That’s why I’m here.

  I pull my t-shirt off and Thor whistles as he returns from the bathroom. I unbuckle my belt and pull it out in one swoop. Dain and Rico start whooping it up behind me.

  If they want a show, I’ll give them a show.

  I grab the top of the locker and pull my zipper down with my free hand. My jeans drop to the ground. Thor flicks a dollar bill at me. Even though it’s just a room full of partially naked men, their encouragement is a huge rush.

  “Save it for the stage, pretty boy,” a scruffy voice yells. I turn towards the door and find Jimmy, the club owner. “Ten minutes,” he yells.

  The guys grumble and start prepping. Dain does pull-ups on a bar above the door. Rico drops to the ground and starts doing push-ups. Thor stays on his phone, and Gio heads to the bathroom with a pump.

  I take off my boxer briefs and slide on the black velvet sweats. They feel good against my newly shaved skin. I pull the white wife-beater out of my bag and put it on. The first act is a rip on Channing Tatum’s character in Magic Mike. Backward baseball cap and all. The moves are pretty simple, but I’m still freaking out. I’ve never been on a stage of any kind. Hell, I’ve never even stood up in class and given a speech.

  “Line up,” Jimmy yells. “Pits, balls, and breathe better smell like champagne and fucking roses.”

  The guys move to the door. They look ready, excited even. Gio bursts out of the bathroom, screaming like a warrior running into combat. Thor returns the battle cry. I feed off their adrenaline and jump up and down a few times. My junk bounces freely in the velvet sweatpants. We don’t take off any clothes in this routine, but my junk flaps around in the sweats during the hip movements. This is not an accident. The first act is supposed to get the audience riled up for the solos.

  Gio pounds my shoulders with his fists. “You ready, bro?”

  I nod.

  “Say it!” he yells.

  “I’m ready.”

  “Fucking scream it!” he demands.

  “I’m fucking ready!”

  The guys gather around me with encouraging grunts and slaps on the back. We’re about to run to the stage when Thor stops me.

  “Wait, we gotta give him a name.” He looks at Jimmy. “Theo sucks ass.”

  “Fucking shit,” Jimmy spits. “What’s your last name, kid?”

  I don’t want to use my last name. That’s even worse.

  “Sway,” Gio says. “We’ll call him Sway.”

  Thor nods. “Yeah, Sway. That’s a fuckable name.”

  We form a circle and put a hand in. I add mine last. The guys quiet down and look to Jimmy, so I do too.

  “On the menu tonight we have three birthdays, a bachelorette party, and a baby shower.”

  The guys groan, and I wince.

  “Just thank Christ she isn’t having your kid,” Jimmy says. “We’ve got a full house, and Dain’s closing, so he gets the drink special.”

  “And what’s the forecast, Jimmy?” Gio asks with a wink.

  “Tonight, it looks like…” Jimmy pauses, and the guys yell rain as they lift their hands and break.

  “Have fun, and keep it professional.” Jimmy looks at Gio. The laughter on his face is gone.

  “It’s all good, Jimbo.” Gio slaps Jimmy on the back and heads to the stage behind the other guys.

  I take a few deep breaths and listen to the crowd roar as the guys take their places on the blacked out stage. The DJ starts our intro, and I’m still standing in the hall.

  Gio looks at me like what-the-fuck.

  “You okay, kid?” Jimmy ushers me forward. “It helps to focus on the routine. You’re just here to perform and have fun.” He pushes me towards the stairs.

  “Okay,” I mumble and burp air. Nervous burping is a bad sign. I think about Sylvie. The nights I watched her take the stage. She never let on that she was scared or tired or high.

  It’s a job.

  I can do this.

  I run to the stage and take my place beside Giovanni. I keep my eyes on the floor, just like we rehearsed.

  “You got this,” Rico yells.

  I nod and blow all the air from my lungs.

  I keep breathing.

  I’m breathing a lot.

  And sweating.

  As soon as the music starts, I puke.

  The show is postponed so the janitor can clean my vomit. During this time, the guys give me a shit-ton of grief.

  “What, are you pregnant?” Thor teases. “Are you sure this guy has a dick?”

  He reaches for my crotch, and I slap his hand away.

  “Fuck you,” I croak, and try not to puke again. Every time I inhale I get a whiff of fresh vomit still lingering in my nose. I gag again, this time I swallow it down because that’s what men do.

  Jimmy appears with a bottle of Jack and a pill.

  “Eat this and drink this.”

  I do as I’m told.

  “Now get out there and fucking dance!”

  The crowd is growing restless. I hear a few people hissing and booing, or maybe it’s just my imagination. Nobody is going to come to the end of my stage if they know I’m the guy that just puked; which means no money and most likely my last night at Trance.

  “You better fucking slay it.” Thor points at me.

  Dain grabs me around the neck. “Once you get out there, all this,” he gestures to my sweaty appearance, “this goes away. Just do the steps, enjoy the moment.”

  Even though the guys aren’t being total pricks, I feel like a jackass. “It won’t happen again,” I promise.

  “No worries, Sway. Let’s get this money.” Rico pats my back then runs onto the stage.

  The DJ starts our intro again. The music builds, and my adrenaline surges. The bass drops. Blue flood lights pop on, and I don’t miss a fucking step.

  The ladies don’t scream for me like they do the other guys, but it’s still a rush. After the opening number, I run back to the dressing room and change. The new guy always goes first.

  My routine was created by Giovanni and Ivy, the club’s choreographer. All the standard characters were taken or overused, so we created a new one.

  I’m the Trance’s first MMA fighter.

  I start in workout gear, then strip to a pair of black spandex shorts. The skin tight ones, like the ones Conor McGregor wears. My junk looks porn level in these little ass shorts.

  The pill Jimmy gave seems to be working. I feel relaxed and a little woozy. I don’t take pills, I barely drink. The only parties I’ve been to lately involve fake tea and Oreo cookies. As long as I don’t puke or pass out, I’m not going to freak over what kind of drugs are flowing through my veins.

  I pull out the body spray Sylvie gave me and spray from neck to crotch. The scent is strong—hopefully enough to hide my fear.

  Giovanni walks out of the bathroom and points at me.

  “You ready?” His enthusiasm pumps me up a little.

  I zip my hoodie and roll my neck as if I’m actually heading into the octagon. “I got this.”

  “Yeah, you fucking do.” He adjusts my hood and sniffs me. “Damn, you smell good.” He takes the bottle from my locker. “This is good shit.”

  “It was a gift from Sylvie.”

  Giovanni lifts his eye
brow. “You hittin’ that again?”

  “Nah, we’re just friends.”

  He rolls his eyes because he thinks I’m full of shit. Giovanni doesn’t have female friends. He doesn’t know how to have a proper relationship, let alone a casual one. It’s all about sex with him.

  “Alright kid, you’re up,” Jimmy says from the doorway. “The DJ has your music?”

  “Yep, Andre is all set,” Giovanni answers for me. “We practiced your timing; she knows to slow it down so you can get the gloves off.

  “Fuck, my gloves!” I go back to my locker and pull them out of the bag. I toss Giovanni one as I slide the other on my hand.

  “Fucking hell!” Jimmy screams.

  I run out of the dressing room and stop when I get to the end of the stage. The room is dark as my music cues up. DJ Andre is telling the room to prepare for round one. The crowd is a sea of hands and faces lit by the dim blue lights of the stage. They look like a horde of bloodthirsty zombies.

  “Okay ladies, put your hands together for Trance’s new kid on the block. He’s a badass, straight from the street to the stage. Welcome, Sway.”

  The crowd cheers as I walk up the four stairs in front of me. Six more steps and I’m center stage. I press my fists together in front of my chest. I stand there for eight counts then I slowly remove my hood. The music is dramatic, the bass deep. The crowd goes crazy when I raise my head. I keep tension in my arms and chest. My teeth grind together as I walk around the stage. The wall behind me is projecting a boxing ring, so those sitting in the back get the full illusion. I bounce around like I’m prepping for my opponent as I slip my gloves off.

  I make eye contact with a few women up front. I try to do what Giovanni instructed, find the ones with the birthday crowns and wedding veils on their heads. I finally spot one, on the right side of the stage. It wasn’t difficult since Jimmy is standing behind her chair waiting for my approval. I give him a nod. She doesn’t know it yet, but that bride-to-be is going to pop my stripper cherry.

  I make my way back to center stage, and the music changes. I start to unzip my hoodie, and a woman slaps a bill on the stage. I can’t see the denomination, but that doesn’t matter. She’s my first tipper. I’m supposed to give her a little special attention to encourage more to follow. I kneel on the stage and make eye contact with her. She plays shy and looks back at her friends, so I take her hand and run it down my chest. The women at her table rush the stage and slap more money on the wood. One places her bill in the waist of my sweats. They don’t matter; I stay focused on the woman that put the first bill on the stage. I take her hand and place it on the zipper of my hoodie, then lean down and tell her to take it off. We make eye contact as I lean back. I circle my hips as she unzips my hoodie with a twenty-dollar smile on her face.