"Anything else I can get you?" I asked, my voice a bit breathy. He stammered something, his face red, and I walked away with a sway in my hips, feeling that heat grow between my legs.

The crowd got rowdier as the hours passed. Music pumped from the jukebox, and the place filled with laughter and clinking glasses. I started playing it up without even thinking. When a group of guys at the pool table ordered shots, I made sure to arch my back as I set them down, pushing my chest out. Their eyes widened, and one muttered, "Damn, girl."

I giggled, twirling a strand of my hair. "Enjoy your drinks, boys."

My thighs rubbed together as I moved, the friction sending sparks up my body. It was like each look was a touch, invisible hands roaming over me.

Slowly, the excitement built. I caught myself glancing back at tables, seeing if they were watching. A bald man with tattoos nursed his whiskey, his gaze fixed on my legs as I wiped down a nearby booth. I hiked my skirt up just an inch, pretending to adjust it, showing more of my smooth thighs. He licked his lips, and I felt a rush. I don't know how to describe it. It was a hot, pulsing ache in my tummy. What was wrong with me? Leon would freak if he knew, but I couldn't stop. The tips were good, but it wasn't just the money. It was the way their stares made me feel alive.

I liked it.