He needs more convincing...

Kyle got a cheeky grin. "I don't know... seems suspect. Maybe I need more evidence." It was clearly a little joke, but when the next song started, "Danger" by Mystikal, Beth decided to call his bluff.
"Ok, then." She stood up off him, and began to work the buttons of her top as she swayed in a little circle to the music, gyrating her hips like a belly dancer.
"Beth, I was joking! You don't have to..." he shut up when her shirt hit him in the face.

Beth wasn't sure what had gotten into her, but she planted herself on Kyle's lap once more, this time burying her bra-clad cleavage in his face so that he had **** but to motorboat her 38C's.
"Don't I have the tits of a stripper, Kyle?" she almost laughed. Her tits weren't "stripper big" at all. More than half the girls at the club had fake tits, but some guys preferred natural, even if they were a little smaller. Kyle only nodded, though. She was grinding on his crotch as he put his face in her cleavage, and if his cock had been hard before... Jeeeeesus.... I really need.... Nope. Not going there. She hopped off again, but only to turn around and slowly peel down her jeans to show off her ass, lovingly displayed around a black thong. She teased and tantalized, really working it as she looked back coyly at Kyle. He was practically salivating.

"How about my ass? Doesn't it just scream "exotic dancer" to you?" She did a squat and pop, going to the floor, spreading her knees wide and then popping back up straight. She then ran through the same lap dance positions she had done before while the song faded into Flo Rida's "GDFR". This time, she didn't need to make Kyle grab her ass. And when she faced away from him, sliding up and down, he even went so far as to run his hands across her midsection and cup her breasts in their cloth cages.
"Don't get too frisky, kiddo. Those aren't yours." she said breathily. The breathiness wasn't an affect: her heart was pounding with the eroticism of pushing boundaries like this.
Still, it was just a lapdance, not even the most **** she had ever performed. When Flo Rida faded out, she stepped away, and started to pull her clothes on. Slowly.
"Convinced?"
"Yes." Kyle answered very quickly. There was a prominent tent in his pants, and he seemed afraid of what would happen if he said anything different. So am I... she realized to her shock.
"Don't be so nervous, kiddo." Beth said, tryng to convince herself as much as him. "It was just a lap dance. I'm going to do a lot more than that tonight at work."
"Yeah, but... I'm not paying you...and you're my brother's... if Brian...."
"Then don't tell him, silly boy." she laughed. "I'm going to take a shower and get ready for work. Be a doll and order us a pizza so I can have some sustenance before work?" She tossed him a pizza flyer from the fridge.
"Yes, ma'am."
When she got upstairs, she dropped onto her back on the bed, panting with adrenaline. What was that? Are you drunk?
Calm down. It was just a dance, like I said.
In your bra and panties?! Are you nuts?
He's so fucking cute, though. Why does he have to be so cute? And why doesn't Brian look at me like that?
He does, you stupid girl. He still does. Don't be a fool.
Well, it was a one-time thing. Just do what you came up here to do.

None of that inner monologue stopped her, though, as she furiously rubbed her clit in the shower, thinking about Kyle.
She came, shaved, and put on her makeup base, and packed her g-string and fishnets. She would finish her makeup and change at the club.

She and Kyle ate the pizza he had ordered: sausage and green peppers. They chatted a little more: neither brought up the lap dance, and when she left for work, he was drifting away, still jet-lagged, in front of SportsCenter.

She arrived at the club, called Taboo, around 7.