What I own: several pairs of amazingly awesome stripper heels, a meager book collection, a filthy fucking mouth and a bunch of Twilight DVD's

What I don't: Twilight itself. That belongs to SMeyer and, despite a strong physical resemblance, I'm not her. If Twilight were mine, there would be lots more…fun to be had. I'm making nothing off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N This was beta'd by the AMAZING Beta-mom Clara Bella, who just makes me smile and fixes all of my excessive comma usage with her crazy beta was originally written for the Fandom for Preemies compilation which did AMAZING things and raised over $5,000 in a month! So, so amazing fandom! Major shout outs to my awesome ficwife Skychaser, my pre readers Mezz, Fifi, busymommy, LasVegas TowGirls and Miss Kristi and all the ladies over on FFA and Going Under for the Third time groups on FB….sadly I don't have anyone names but they are all AMAZING! .I'm not below bribery and reviews will be rewarded with sneak peeks and possibly pole dances. Thanks for reading!

My hands shook slightly as I sat in my truck, breathing deeply, having a mini face-off with the squat, brick building in front of me. The flashing red lights mocked me, and I chewed on my lower lip in frustration.

"Fuck it," I mumbled, hands tightening on the wheel. "Just do it." I was willing myself to get out of the car, it's not like I had never done this before, it had just been awhile.

With a heavy exhale, I grabbed the fully stuffed duffel bag from the passenger seat and exited my beloved black Ford F250, slamming the door a bit too hard and crossing the parking lot. I took a moment to survey the cars surrounding me and nodded in satisfaction. A handful of luxury imports sat amongst the usual combination of Harleys, sporty little four-doors, and trucks. My eyes lingered on a red 1975 GTO, and I licked my lips. What a fucking beautiful car, and in pristine condition, no less.

I pushed the door open and was assaulted by the scent of cigarette smoke and stale beer. The man sitting on a stool by the door looked me over, taking in my torn jeans, sneakers, black t-shirt and hoodie combo, raising an eyebrow in an unspoken question. I'm sure with my messy bun and glasses I couldn't have looked more than seventeen. As a matter of fact, I counted on it.

"I'm here to audition," my voice was perky, my southern accent appearing out of nowhere, as I handed him my ID which stated that I was, in fact, twenty-two. The large man smiled as the dim lights danced off his bald head, and he handed my license back to me with a clipboard and directed me towards a red curtain. I thanked him with a smile and headed up the stairs.

My battered converse stuck to the grimy stairs, and I was relieved to reach the top. I shivered as I entered the cold room and looked around. A row of lockers lined the wall on my left, and a chipped vanity and mirror were to my right. Two women lounged at the vanity, touching up their already flawless makeup and eying me wearily.

"Hi," my voice was too perky, even for me, my accent again working it's way back, and I bit back a grimace.

The smaller of the two looked me up and down. "You've got a good body," her voice was flat, but I could tell it was a compliment.

"Thank you. I'm Isabella. 'm here for an audition." I wandered to the vanity and set down my bag. Rummaging through it, I pulled out a hairbrush and an industrial makeup bag.

"Char," the tiny one said, by way of greeting. She rose and headed to the door. Her sparkling silver mini-dress flashed in the dim light. She paused for a moment before turning and raking her eyes over my form from head to toe. I steeled my spine at her obvious assessment of me and waited. A bright, contagious smile lit up her face, and I grinned back. "Good luck kid, I think you'll do fine," she winked and disappeared.

I plopped ungracefully down into one of the rickety looking chairs lining the vanity and sighed, pawing through my bag and pulling out item after item: curling wand, hairbrush, pins, false lashes, white socks, garters. Christ, it looked like a Frederick's had exploded in front of me. I could feel eyes on me, and I glanced up to catch the gaze of the other woman at the vanity, offering her a smile. Her eyes lit up, and her shiny pink lips parted, revealing sparkling white teeth, and I fought back a gasp. This woman was beautiful, and she knew it.

"Rose," she said simply, extending a perfectly manicured hand to me.

"Isabella," I replied softly, fighting my nerves. This woman looked amazing. She was in full Barbie drag - platinum hair cascading down her back to right above her ass, golden, tanned skin, rhinestone choker, earrings and ring, a neon pink thong studded with stones and a matching bra. This girl clearly knew her niche, and worked it to the fullest. I had no doubt whatsoever she was one of the top earning girls, just based on her look alone. She was flawless. She gave me a quick wink and fastened the sparkling clasp on her lucite and rhinestone platforms, before wiggling into a bright pink spandex mini dress, smoothing the fabric over her curves.

"Good luck sugar," she purred, mussing my hair playfully, and disappeared down the sticky, dark stairs.

I laughed softly and shook my head. I knew how lucky I was to have nice girls here, and there was no way I was going to jeopardize that.

A sense of calm overtook me, honed from years of dance recitals and beauty pageants, and I began to get ready. I pulled a pale blue and black plaid skirt and tie along with a fitted blue blouse out of my bag, silently blessing the years at catholic boarding school and the amazing durability of their uniforms. Following them out of the bag was my good little girl lingerie- white lace bra and boy shorts, white thong beneath – simple, classic, perfect. I quickly disrobed, having lost any sense of modesty years ago, lotioned and shimmered my body and redressed, starting with the white lace and ending with a tight, black button-down vest emblazoned with my school's logo over my top. I played with my tie for a moment, tweaking it until it was just so and smiled at my reflection. Pulling my hair down out of it's messy bun, it fell in waves over my shoulders. I quickly touched it up with a curling wand, forming loose, tousled curls and pulling them back off my face with a thick white ribbon and copious bobby pins.

Steadying my hands, I applied my makeup: foundation, smoky shadow and liner, mascara, blush and a yummy vanilla scented shimmer powder. My skin was so pale it looked nearly translucent, an odd look for a dancer, but one I reveled in. Most girls tanned religiously, but despite my efforts, I never tanned, just burned. Oddly enough, burn unit patient was just not an attractive look.

With one last sweep of shiny, red gloss on my lips, I barely recognized myself. I held back a laugh as I hurriedly slipped on requisite white knee socks and began to painstakingly buckle my five inch, black glitter, double strap Mary Janes. I loved those shoes, loved them. Christ, I had them in five colors, they were so comfortable.

I knew I still had some time before I was supposed to meet the manager, so I began to intently study the application and rules that had been given to me by the bouncer. There was nothing new or surprising there. I shook my head and quickly scrawled my answers, digging for my CD that I had prepared for this occasion.

"Bella, you're up after Rose," Char waltzed back in,her dress now a pile of sparkling material tucked over her arm, twisting her hair off her neck with one hand and fanning herself with the bills clutched in the other, startling me out of my reverie. I stood, smoothing my skirt, and cocked my head at her, my expression questioning, as she gracefully sank into the chair next to mine and gestured for me to turn. I did so, and she grinned brightly, "Darlin, you look great."

"Thanks," I smiled at her and gave a small curtsy, one of my few remaining vestiges of my ballet training, causing my companion to laugh loudly.

"Well sugar, you picked a great night, the gentleman are...generous this evening," her voice was suggestive, and I gave her a smile.

I glanced in the mirror one last time and headed down the stairs. I headed over to the DJ's booth and slid her my CD, ignoring the blatant contempt she was shooting at me.

Pleasant woman.

Peeking around the curtain, I watched as Rose finished her set, spinning around on the pole to the closing strains of Aqua's Barbie Girl. Rose was a master at working the crowd, and it really was a delight to watch her. As the song ended and the lights dimmed, I watched as she gathered both her discarded clothing and the tips on the stage, her long, tanned limbs shining in the lights. I took a deep breath as she passed me, leaving a strong waft of, what else, roses in her wake.

"Good luck darlin'," she whispered before disappearing up the stairs.

"And now we have a newcomer to Scarlett's. Gentlemen, please welcome Isabella!" The woman's voice sounded like porno and bullshit. I plastered a smile on and stepped out into the blue light on the small stage.

I took a deep breath and willed my feet not to tremble. Glancing around, I could make out some faces in the crowd. There was a distinguished looking man with graying temples and a sketchy leer, a group of frat guys in matching t-shirts with a pitcher of beer, several blue-collar workers pulling on their Budweisers, waiting impatiently.

Then I saw him - my playmate. The man was wearing a black button-up shirt and loosened tie, his wavy, blond hair disheveled, the ends flirting with his collar. Even from my position on the stage, I could tell he was undeniably handsome. He sat ramrod straight at the tip rail, barely glancing up from his drink, except to speak to his friends, one of whom had an unruly shock of bronze hair and a crooked grin, and the other looked... well, he looked like a douche - polo shirt, khakis, perfectly gelled spiked hair and a mug of beer. I decided then and there to ignore that one for the rest of the night.

My smile became genuine as the first notes of The Flys Got You Where I Want You drifted through the club. The song was one of my favorites. I began to move to the soft music, glancing at Tie Guy. As the music continued, he looked up and began to watch. I smiled brightly at the response. That's why I picked this song, what I was aiming for, I knew it would get someone's attention.

I smiled coyly at my audience as I walked around the pole, its solid coolness comforting in my hand. I began to dance, almost automatically. I had rehearsed the moves so many times, they were instinctive.

Then, the hard part began. It wasn't any of the pole tricks or spins, not staying upright in five, and had always been, inch heels, not even the stripping. My biggest challenge was eye contact. Despite being on a small stage in a skirt that would be a belt on someone two inches taller, I felt comfortable. I was alone, me up here, them down there. That changed the moment I made eye contact.

I was spinning around the pole, my vest now discarded. The blue lights felt very warm. I danced away from my steel safety net and smiled down into still, green eyes. Damn, this was hard. I winked and brushed my hair over my shoulder. Then I saw it. His green eyes sparkled. He was paying attention.

Heightened by my success, I winked and danced away, stopping in front of a few of the other patrons who gathered around the stage. I thanked them, wordlessly, for their attention, a shimmy here, a curtsy there, just an acknowledgement of their generosity. Char had been right, they were, indeed, generous. A few of the other girls had come out as well, and I spotted Char and Rose along the rail across from my mysterious blond friend. I danced over to them, very appreciative of the support, and made a conscious decision to ham it up as much as possible. Stroking Roses hair as I took the twenty dollar bill she had placed in her cleavage with my teeth, I earned a cheer from the crowd.

There was a sense of fun in the air. The music, the lights, the people - it was a party, and I had missed it. I continued with my carefully choreographed routine, each turn and shake in the right place. Fueled by cheers, I deviated from my safe cocoon. Grabbing the pole at mid chest, I kicked my legs up and locked my ankles around it, slowly leaning back into a handstand. My long, dark hair pooled on the floor. I bobbed my head to the heavy beat. The act of doing something that I had never even considered doing again was so freeing.

The rest of the song went by in a blur, and I was standing still, my vest discarded and my shirt unbuttoned as the music smoothly transitioned into Kings of Leon's Sex on Fire. The tempo picked up, and my shirt was quickly discarded, tossed to a giggling Char with a wink.

During the whole set, I kept peeking over at Tie Guy, waiting for an opportunity to present itself. Halfway through the song, his friend waved a neatly folded twenty in the air, and I grinned as I made my way over to him. Smiling coyly as I swiveled my hips, I dropped to eye level, giving him easy access and pulling my garter out for him. I caught Tie Guy's eye and winked, and I swear, he tensed as his friend's hand brushed along my thigh.

I'll take that as a plus.

Grinning wildly, I straightened up and shimmied out of my skirt, purposely shaking my ass in his friend's face, much to the delight of the crowd.

It's go time.

I swallowed hard as the opening strains of the Foo Fighter's cover of Darling Nikki pounded from the speakers, earning a huge cheer. I giggled and playfully untied my bra, allowing the scraps of ribbon and lace to float to the stage. I began my floor work, laying on my back and swiveling my lace boy-shorts down my hips, revealing the tiny, lace thong. I tossed my shorts at Char and quickly finished my set, smiling brightly as the last note of the song died in the air.

Shaking slightly, I gathered my cast-off clothes and bills from the stage. I welcomed the darkness of the stairwell. I was breathing heavily, eyes closed and head back. The DJ's voice jolted me out of my reverie, as she introduced the next dancer. With a look back at the stage, I headed up the dark, sticky stairs.

"Well, Bella," Char's husky voice sounded from over at the vanity where she was perched upon a stool, carefully reapplying another layer of kohl eyeliner. I struggled into a pale pink lace and rhinestone g- string and bra, topping it with a pale pink chiffon mini-dress. "That was great," she said. "Will you be sticking around?"

"Ahh...I dunno," I sighed, plopping into a chair next to the tiny woman. I leaned down and replaced my Mary Janes and socks with a pair of strappy, silver stilettos.

My words were interrupted by the manager's arrival. He was a short, balding man with a bad comb over and an even worse polyester suit. His tone was gruff but he quickly informed me I was more than welcome to stay for the rest of the shift, and he could start me in the rotation the next night, if I wanted.

Well, I guess I've still got it.

"You should," Rose called over her shoulder from a battered pink locker overflowing with sequins, shoes and cosmetics, her perfect body wrapped in the hottest of pink satin. She waved a hand at me before gathering her long blonde hair up atop her head in a messy up-do. "You have an admirer sweetie, and he's cute. Come on down and have a drink, maybe grab a few lap dances." Rose shot me a toothy smile and ducked down the stairs, gone in a flash of fuchsia satin.

I gave a heavy sigh and looked around at my dingy surroundings. This was something I never thought I'd never do again. Hell, this was something had never thought I'd do at all.

Fuck it, why the hell not.

I smiled as Char warmly, "Shall we?"

"That's my girl!" she giggled. "Let's go." She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the door.

Emboldened, I descended the stairs to the smoky club, the dim lights bouncing off of the strategically placed crystals on the walls. There were people everywhere - dancers, customers, waitresses - all moving through their own space. I smiled as the opening notes of Nine Inch Nails Closer flooded the room, and glanced at the stage. The song was a favorite of mine, pure sex and lust. It was perfect. A very petite, pixie-like girl with a shock of short, black hair dressed in an outfit made entirely of shiny, black leather was swinging from the gleaming pole.

"What the hell," I mumbled and approached the stage to give her a tip. She accepted and kissed me on the lips, causing me to laugh out loud and causing the rest of the customers to moan. I winked at her and meandered over to the bar, smiling at the bear of a bartender, who introduced himself as Emmett. I ordered a diet coke, and it was served up to me with a smile and a flash of dimples. I liked him already and slid an extra twenty across the bar.

He beamed at me, "Thanks Bells!" He winked at his nickname, as I downed my beverage and turned back to watch the show.

"Excuse me, You're Isabella right?" the voice that pulled my attention from the stage was smooth and musical. Iturned on my stool to find myself staring into the ice blue eyes of Tie Guy's friend, Bronze Boy. I nodded slightly, more to buy time than as an answer. The man in front of me was almost disturbingly attractive.

I swallowed hard and gave him a sweet smile, "I am. What can I do for you sugar?" I purposely played up my accent, drawing the last word out much longer than necessary and placing a hand on his arm.

"Well, you see, it's my friend's birthday, and I'd like to buy him a lap dance." I nodded at his request as he pulled out his wallet and withdrew a bill, pressing it into my palm before I could blink. I quickly slid the bill in my garter and hoped to God it wasn't the yuppie. "He'll be back in any- here he comes," I followed his gaze across the crowded room towards the door where two men made their way through the crowd.

Please don't make it be douche-boy' I though wistfully as Tie Guy and Douche approached.

"Jasper, happy fucking birthday man!" My companion draped an arm around Tie Guy's shoulder and grinned at him, "Have fun, dude!" With that, he turned and grabbed the yuppie by the arm and led him back towards the stage.

I swallowed hard as I met Tie Guy's intense, green eyes and felt myself blush.

Jasper...

"Hey darlin'," His voice was husky and oozed sensuality. I fought with my body, willing my knees not to go weak at the term of endearment and accompanying Texas drawl.

I'm a fucking professional, I can do this, right?

I licked my lips and smiled softly at him, extending my hand. "Come on," I nearly whispered, as my courage flew out the window.

I steeled my nerves and gave his had a small squeeze, relishing the feel of his large hand wrapped around my small one, enjoying the warmth. I gave him a shy glance, leading him through the crowd towards the small, curtained off area that was used for lap dances. I bit my lower lip a bit and led Jasper inside, playfully pushing him down on the black couch that sat on one wall. I grabbed a chair, placing it directly in front of him, and straddled it backwards. Taking a deep breath, I smiled slightly as the familiar strains of Fuel's Down Inside You reached my ears.

Fucking awesome.

Holding the back of the chair for leverage, I slowly leaned into a deep back bend, meeting Jasper's green eyes as I bobbed my head to the music and smiled coyly at his twitching fingers. Giving him a quick wink, I righted myself and kicked my leg over the back of the chair, standing and walking slowly towards him while running my fingers down the outside of my breasts and down my stomach, keeping eye contact the entire way.

Why is it so fucking hard to dance for the handsome ones?

I licked my lips and slowly sank down in front of him, teasingly placing my hands on his knees for balance, and I swear to Christ, he fucking hissed at the contact. Biting my lip to hide my smile, I stood and turned my back to him. Taking a small step closer, and swiveling my hips as leaned back, I placed my head near his, allowing my hair to brush over his shoulders, chest and then his groin, as I lowered myself to the floor. I smiled coyly at him over my shoulder. Fuck all, this man was beautiful. His green eyes were dark and half closed, and his hands were clenched by his side.

I shivered slightly, wondering what those hands would feel like on my...Jesus Christ, I had never had a customer affect me like this, ever. I could feel the blush staining my cheeks in the darkness and shook my head playfully as I did some simple floor work, keeping it very slow and sensual. It was mindless and kept my thoughts from straying to the man across from me any more than they already were.

When I finally stood in front of him again, the song was nearly at its end, and I took a deep breath, meeting Jasper's dark green eyes. He finally smiled at me, a sexy, fucking know-it-all smirk.

Well, shit. Without thinking, I quickly positioned my self between his legs, my back to him once again and slowly rotated my hips and bent my knees, sliding down towards the ground and making sure that my back slid along his body for the duration of the descent.

Yes, I was technically breaking the rules on my first night here. Yes, I was nearly insane for that, but fuck did I want to touch this man! I let out a tiny moan as my ass slid over his very hard crotch, I and heard him gasp again.

Oh, rock me sexy Jesus! I finally reached the floor and quickly turned to look up at him, my eyes wide, cheeks flushed, and an angelic smile on my face. After a moment, he gave me a beautiful smile, his white teeth and dimples showing, and extended a hand down to me as he stood.

"Ma'am," the word was a question, and I answered by giving him my hand and standing across from him, studying my shoes.

"It was a pleasure, Miss Isabella, thank you," his words were soft, and I looked up into his eyes. One more quick smile and he was gone, the black velvet curtain swaying over the door he had just exited.

Well fuck me. A blond cowboy with a fuckhot accent, deep green eyes and impeccable manners, even when talking to a stripper? I think I'm in trouble.

I scratched that thought when I found myself wondering if I would see him again the next night. I didn't think I was in trouble any longer, I fucking knew it. I grinned like the Cheshire cat as I exited the curtained off area, heading back out to the main club in search of bartender Emmett and his dimples. I needed a drink .

Well, shit, I was really back. Yee-fucking-haw.