People say I’m shameless. They’re right.
I like my work dirty and my sex even dirtier. It takes a hell of a lot to tilt my moral compass, and dancing as a private stripper for horny suburbanites doesn’t even register.
Neither does hooking up with them afterward whenever the mood strikes—it’s one of the bennies of the job—but it’s always a one-and-done. I don’t do repeat performances. Ever.
Until I meet the one girl in all of Chicago who doesn’t want a piece of this action. She’s all I can think about, and that’s a problem, because I made sure she wants nothing to do with me.
But I’ve seen her deepest secrets, her darkest fantasies, and they match mine to a f*cking T.
