Losing Control by Laramie Briscoe

his bike, making a heart with his hands. She rolled her eyes. He was such a contradiction.
    “Hey,” she smiled.
    “Hey,” he answered, his voice tight.
    “Something wrong?”
    “Our protection crew ran into a bit of a problem tonight, and I’m gonna have to take a rain check on dinner. Sorry,” he apologized.
    Her spirits sank, but she fought to keep that disappointment out of her voice. “It’s okay, maybe I can pick up an extra shift at work.”
    “You do, you call me and let me know. I’ll meet you out there when I get done.”
    “Sounds good.” She hung up and sighed.
    Work always needed her, so she went and got dressed.

    For a Monday night, Wet Wanda’s was positively hopping.
    “Girl, you’re about to get two tables of a bachelor party,” Jasmine warned her as they sat at the bar waiting on their drink orders to be filled.
    “Really? On a Monday?”
    “I know,” Jasmine agreed. She surveyed the club. “It’s packed in here. There’s even a bachelorette party here. At a strip club. Why aren’t they at a male revue?”
    Bianca grinned. “Maybe they aren’t fans of dick in a box?”
    Jasmine threw her head back and laughed. “You got a point there.”
    The noise inside the club grew louder as a large group of men went for the two tables that Jasmine had earlier indicated would house the bachelor party. “Looks like I’m on, and looks like they’ve already been drinking.”
    They observed a redhead who sat closest to the stage, already throwing money up at the dancer. “Watch him, he looks a little grabby,” Jasmine warned.
    “Will do.”
    Before she sauntered over to the table, her eyes searched for Dominic, their head bouncer. Their eyes locked, and she indicated the table that she was walking over to. He flashed her a thumbs up and stood with his arms crossed over his large chest.
    “Hey guys, I’m Bianca,” she introduced herself as she arrived at the table and started taking drink orders.
    “That’s a whore’s name if I’ve ever heard one,” the redhead said, laughing loudly at his own joke.
    She ignored him and continued taking the orders.
    “Hey!” he yelled at her again. “I’m the bachelor here tonight, how about you and I go into that back room?” he indicated a bank of rooms off to the side. The onstage girls gave lap dances and sometimes more in those rooms.
    “You don’t see me up on the pole do you?” she asked. “Only girls on the pole go back into that room.”
    “You could be up on my pole,” he laughed, grabbing his crotch and thrusting it at her.
    Taking a deep breath, she turned around to go put in their orders and tried to take a few minutes to collect herself. Sometimes this job could be too much, even for her.
    “You’re right, the redhead is a douchebag,” she told Jasmine. “He asked me for a lap dance and then grabbed his crotch and thrust it at me. How much longer do I have to do this job again?”
    “One more semester and then however long it takes you to find a job, girlfriend. You’re on your way,” Jasmine tried to encourage her. It hurt her to see the fire in Bianca’s eyes die a little bit when men treated her like this. “Do you want me to take the table?”
    “No,” Bianca sighed. “I came in here tonight to make money. I’m not gonna let some guy who’s wasted ruin it for me.”
    “You need me to at any time tonight and you just let me know.”

    An hour later, Bianca was nearing the end of her rope. She wanted this night over and she wanted to see Jagger, not necessarily in that order. It surprised her how much she needed to see him. He’d come to have a very calming effect on her. When she was down or stressed, she wanted to see him. Usually just having him around helped, sometimes it was just seeing the glint of mischievousness in his eyes. She was almost ready to text him when her neck started tingling.
    Turning around, she saw him walk in. He wore leather chaps over worn jeans and black motorcycle boots. His