“Please tell me you brought something bigger with you than the tip you tried to give me last time. We both know I’m worth way more than what you try to give me,” Ivy raises her brow at them, arms tucked against her chest as they occupy one of the many private rooms this club offers. Making a living as an exotic dancer hadn’t been her dream, but she was an excellent dancer with a voluptuous frame she wasn’t afraid to show off in any form. Her breasts are threatening to spill free from the black, glittering bra adorning her chest and her hips are barely ensconced in sensual black lace. Fish net stockings adorn her legs, accentuating the thick curve of her thighs, and she’s balanced on bright pink, patent leather stilettos. She already doesn’t come cheap, either, and she shouldn’t be expecting a tip at all, but Ivy has high expectations. She hasn’t made it this far without them. “Well?” A lift of an arched brow, a knowing grin tugging at the corner of her mouth as she waits to be shown the goods.Â