Clothes Off!

Evie Dale was the kind of girl who owned whatever room she was in.

She was exuberant, exuding confidence and self-assurance in a way that had eyes following with jealous stares and admiring looks.

That was probably why she found dancing in a club in Las Vegas so easy.

After leaving her home in Salt Lake City, Utah, she found herself crossing the border into Nevada. And there was no other place in Nevada like Las Vegas for opportunities.

After spending a couple of nights in a dingy hotel, looking around and trying to pick the perfect job, she decided to check out one of the local dancer/strip joints. The place was a hot-spot for rich gentlemen that turned to watch her as she sauntered to the bar.

The owner of the club immediately took to the sashay of her hips and the coy smile on her lips. She was offered a job and after five minutes of watching the kinds of tips and privileges the dancers got from the punters, Evie knew that this job would be perfect for her.

She loved the attention, there was no denying it.

She loved to play with boys like a cat liked to play with a mouse.

And just like every other room, when Evie was on the stage, she owned it. Every eye in the club was drawn to her like moths to a flame and she adored every minute of it. And the tips weren't bad either.

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Evie sat in front of her dresser, her eyes glued to the mirror in front of her. Evie wasn't cocky about her looks. She knew she was pretty, but she didn't use her looks to get her anywhere. She just kept herself confident.

Confidence was everything to Evie.

If she knew she could do something, she'd do it without hesitation and the utmost faith in herself. It was things like this that kept her in the lime light of other people.

People loved and hated Evie Dale all in the same breath.

"You're on in five, Porsche," one of the dancer's winked as she slumped, sweating, into the seat next to Evie. Evie nodded, finally drawing her baby-blue eyes away from her reflection.

"Thanks, Crystal."

'Crystal' was anything but. Her dark, mocha skin was rich and velvety and her even darker hair was curled sweetly around her shoulders. She liked the hypocrisy of her name, though. So did Evie. It was probably why she immediately took to the girl.

It was also Crystal who'd named Evie Porsche. She said she drew in the eyes of men like the car did. And Evie agreed.

"There's a birthday party in tonight, brace yourself," her friend warned her as Evie rose from her seat. "They have a big crowd."

Evie nodded again, "Thanks. You coming back out?"

"After I freshen up. Those boys are buying lap dances like they're candies." Crystal winked again as Evie slipped out of the dressing room and towards the stage. The owner, Jason, grinned at her as she passed and signalled for the dimming of the stage lights and the start of Evie's music.

She climbed the steps that lead to the stage on her spike heels and turned to smile at Jason. "Going to wish me luck?" she asked, her trademark coy smile playing on her plump, glossed lips.

Jason shook his head, "You don't need it, kid."

Oh yes, Evie loved this job.