Tell Me You Hate Me || •Theodore Nott•

Paying a Visit

Callista's POV

"Hey, someone's requesting you in private room number six." Lola scooted past me as I stood in the hallway counting my tips from the night.

Whipping my head up from the cash and following her as she rushes past me, I call out trying to get her attention, "I'm off though! Did they state their name?"

Disappearing around the corner, I roll my eyes to myself and lean off the wall now standing straight up.

"Great. They better be paying extra." I mumbled to myself and stuffed the green lifelines back inside my bra and waistband of my skirt.

Sticking my hand in the cup of my bra and grabbing my boob, I lift it up to make them look perkier before walking out from the hallway. Glancing down and examining my breasts practically spilling out from the black lingerie, I shrug my shoulders and give myself a pleasing smirk.

Strutting through the quiet hall, I open the curtains covering it up and reveal the bass of the music with shouts of men seconds away from ruining their jeans.

With the velvet of the purple thick curtain held between my fingers, I take a deep breath before releasing it and letting it fall behind me as I make my way through the sea of people.

Walking seductively but rushed towards the private room area, I glance up and see Pansy working the pole on the wide stage doing her Cherry Pie number. Shaking her ass and getting her crowd rowdy, more men from other areas walking over just to watch her.

Stopping in my haste of a walk to watch her, she moves with incredible ease and elegance. She truly was the best dancer here, she was so alluring to watch.

I remember the first time I ever watched her dance, I couldn't pull my eyes away. Making her my idol and following within her steps, having her reach me her proper ways, she's been amazing from the start.

Eyeing her a moment longer, I break out of my small trance and huff while looking at the private room area. They could've waited longer for all I cared, I was suppose to be leaving right now.

This would be dreadful as in I was dreading this dance I was about to give and I'll be even more infuriated if I get a shitty tip. I don't even think I'd be able to hold myself back honestly, I've had an ass week enough as is, that would just be my tipping point.

Stood in front of the dark blue door with a gold number six attached to it, I stand there gathering myself and bundling up my emotions. Closing my eyes and cancelling out all the noises surrounding me, putting the frustration down in the pit on my stomach, I reach for the door handle.

A dim purple light revealing just the silhouette of their body, a manly slimmed figure sat in front of me- their back facing me. With my hands down by my sides, I strut into the room slowly, reaching up to close the door behind me.

Shifting in their seat lifting their leg up and resting it on top of the other, lifting his arms and placing them on the armrests and leaning back almost allowing his head to tilt back, he's getting himself rather comfy.

Stood behind him, I lower myself down while placing my hands on the top of the chair, leaning further down and smoothing my hands along the sides following down to his shoulders.

Tilting my head to the side feeling my hair follow and fall behind me, I bring my mouth inches away from his ear while running the palms of my hands down his shoulders making my way down his chest. Feeling his toned chest through the thin fabric of his dress shirt, moving his suit jacket to the side, he was rather athletic.