“Or for a certain performer,” Nikola said looking at Andre over the rim of his glass.
“Mind your business. Raul’s not here tonight?” he asked looking around for his brother’s friend.
Nikola shook his head. “Not tonight. Mercedes isn’t performing.”
The two men conversed for a little while about who was performing that night and in what order. Both Devyn and Stacey were performing tonight. Andre watched as the different performers took their turn on stage. Again, he was impressed by their style and appeal but he was most anxious to see Stacey get on stage. Looking around the room, he saw a number of men in the audience hooting and hollering. The thought of those men seeing his Stacey on stage in a few straps of cloth had his jaw tightening. He continued to look around and saw a man off to the side of the stage talking to a few of the other performers. He was video-recording their conversation. Andre sat up in his seat as he took in the scene of the two dancers dressed in short shorts, half-shirts and makeup, being recorded.
“Who’s that?” he asked Nikola, not taking his eyes off the man.
“That’s Sean. Sean Stevens. He’s doing a documentary on the club,” Nikola answered, following the direction of Andre’s gaze.
“You checked him out?” Andre asked still staring at the sandy-blond haired man.
“You think I’d let someone film in here while my wife is here and I didn’t check him out? He’s on the up and up,” Nikola retorted.
“I want his info,” Andre said still not looking at his brother.
“I said he’s fine,” Nikola responded.
“And I said I want his info,” Andre said finally turning his attention back to his brother and leveling a serious look at him.
Nikola’s own usually serious face lightened with amusement as he smirked at his younger brother. It was evident to Andre that Nikola was reading more into this than was necessary. He just wanted to make sure the man was who he said he was, with his own eyes. In fact, maybe it was time to go have a talk with this Sean character instead of looking at Nikola’s goofy grin.
“I’ll be back.” Andre stood and left the table before Nikola had a chance to respond.
Andre strolled over to the man, analyzing him. He was about five-nine, and had tanned skin. He wore a pair of casual jeans and a button up shirt. He stood a respectful distance from the women when speaking. He looked at their faces when discussing their burlesque performances. All in all, he acted like a respectable documentarian. Still, this guy might be coming in contact with Stacey, which meant Andre needed to check him out.
“I hear you’re doing a documentary on the Black Kitty,” Andre said not even bothering to introduce himself. “Sean, right?”
Sean nodded. “Uh, yeah, I am doing a documentary on the club. And you are?”
“Why are you doing a documentary on the club?” Andre asked.
“Um, well,” Sean hesitated, obviously thrown by Andre’s brusque manner, “there’s been a resurgence in the last few decades of burlesque, and the Black Kitty is one of the most popular clubs here in Atlanta. Anyone interested in the goings on in the entertainment industry would be interested.”
Andre nodded. “And you have written permission from the owner and all the women you interview right?” he asked in the same tone he would closing a business deal.
“Yes, of course. Diane, uh, Mistress Coco has given her blessing and granted me access, albeit limited access, to her club,” Sean answered. “I’m sorry, you are?” he asked.
“Me? Consider me a concerned citizen. Just make sure you’re following the rules laid out to you,” Andre advised before strolling back to his seat.
“Got what you needed?” Nikola asked over the rim of his beer.
“Maybe. Just make sure you send me that information on him,” he reminded Nikola.
Seconds later, the lights dimmed and Mistress Coco emerged from behind the curtain, this time dressed in a gold shimmery dress. Her short, silver locks were pinned back on one side and a large black flower was tucked behind her ear.
“Give it up for our last performer!” she yelled to the applauding crowd. “Now, next to the stage is a young lady whose dancing will set your soul on fire and cripple even the strongest of men! Put your hands together and make some noise for the one...the only...Jazmine Noirrrrr!” Mistress Coco’s voice reverberated across the audience as she made her way to the edge of the stage to exit.
Even in the dimly lit room, Andre could make out the grace with which Stacey walked as she entered from the right of the stage carrying a wooden chair. She was dressed in a long, fifties style red dress that flared out at the bottom. Sade’s Is It A Crime began to play as Stacey took her seat. She began moving her shoulders in time with the music, then lifting a leg, spreading them wide, and closing to tantalize the audience.
Andre sat transfixed as he watched Stacey’s fingers trail up her sides to her neck and tug ever so gently at the strings that tied the back of her dress. Standing and gliding across the stage as she teased the audience with a shoulder here and another there, she sat back down with her back to the audience, straddling the chair. Andre’s cock stirred in his pants when she slowly let the edges of her dress drop, and he saw the muscles of her back flex with every movement. Tightening his fists, he just barely managed to refrain from rushing the stage and throwing her over his shoulder to take her away from the prying eyes of the men in the room. He knew they were imagining doing things to her only he wanted to do to her.
Andre chanced a sideways glance at his brother and sure enough, a knowing smirk lined his face as he stared back at Andre. Fuck you, Andre mouthed to Nikola before turning his attention back to Stacey. By now she was out of her dress and down to a pair of red satin boy shorts and a pair of black and red pasties. As the song ended, she sat in the chair with her back to the audience again and threw her arm up, dipped her head back to create a perfect arch along her spine. Andre was out of his seat before the final notes ended.
When her beautifully lithe body bounded down the stairs in nothing but a pair of fishnets, short shorts, and pasties, Andre was the first face she saw. He immediately grabbed her in his arms and placed a crushing kiss to her lips. Andre ignored the few gasps he heard from onlookers and deepened the kiss. When his tongue made contact with Stacey’s, the entire room disappeared. The tightness in his groin grew and he knew he wouldn’t last for much longer. He needed to be inside her now.
“Go get your shit,” he demanded as he pulled back from her.
Still stunned by his sudden appearance and that all-consuming kiss, Stacey was speechless. Her hands still latched onto his shoulders, she blinked a few times and looked around. Remembering they were still in the company of the performers and some audience members, Stacey tried to step back but Andre only tightened his grip.
“Andre, I still have to change and I thought we were going to stay to catch the rest of the performers,” she tried to remind him of their plans. She should have known by the look in his eyes that he was not changing his mind.
“Plans changed. I’m giving you five minutes to change, grab your stuff, and meet me right here or I’m coming to get you,” he said, finally releasing her.
Stacey couldn’t ignore the way her pulse increased at his commanding attitude and threats. Still, she refused to make it too easy for him. Placing her hand on her hip, she threw him a serious look of her own. “Andre, you can’t just order me around whenever you want—”
“Wrong, baby. I can and will. You now have four minutes or I’m going to turn you around, bend you over on that stage, and give this fucking audience a real damn show,” he growled low in her ear.
He took a step forward, allowing his bulging cock to brush against the hood of her pussy. Stacey’s breath hitched as she realized just how serious Andre was in following through with this threat.
“F-fine,” she stated, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Stepping around Andre, she went towards the direction of the dressing room, ignor
ing the stares and giggles of the few performers who’d overheard their little exchange. She pulled out the dress she’d worn earlier on her date with Andre, and closed her locker. It was a long-sleeved, flowing pink dress with a lace overlay. She stepped into the black, three-inch ankle boots she’d worn earlier, and packed up her discarded costume that had been brought back by one of the stage kittens. She threw her bag over her shoulder and headed out of the locker room towards the bathroom.
“Hey, you’re Jazmine aren’t you?” she heard a male voice ask behind her as she exited the bathroom. Turning and looking over her shoulder, she saw a man only a few inches taller than her approach.
“Yes, I am. Enjoying the show?” she asked casually as the man stepped closer. She figured he was an audience member.
“Oh yeah,” he said looking her up and down with a look in his eyes that made her skin crawl.
“Good. Hope you enjoy the rest of the show.” She forced a smile and turned to leave, but was stopped when he caught her arm.
“What’s the rush sweetie? You performing again tonight?” he asked not letting go of her arm.
“Take your hands off me,” she said trying to tug her arm from his grip.
“Why, is there some—uff!”
He grunted as Stacey felt his grip being ripped from her arm. When she turned around, she saw the man slumped on the floor and Andre standing over him, breathing heavy with a dangerous look in his eye.
“Didn’t she fucking tell you to take your hands off of her?!” he snarled as he took another threatening step looking as if he was ready to finish the man off.
Stacey’s feet remained stuck to the floor, stunned at Andre’s anger. He had a cold look in his eye. The stranger was already down on the floor holding his hand up to try and keep Andre at bay, but Stacey knew it was of no use. She watched as he leaned down and grabbed the man by the collar of his button down shirt.
“Next time a woman tells you to take your hands off of her, do it asshole!” he said before pushing the man back into the wall.
Stacey heard loud talking and footsteps behind her.
“What the hell is going on here!?” she heard Mistress Coco’s raspy voice demand. She looked at Andre who still looked poised to beat this man to a pulp right in front of Mistress Coco, security and everyone else. Stepping closer to him, she placed a reassuring hand on his arm.
“Andre, it’s fine. Just let it go, please,” Stacey urged, trying to turn Andre away from the man as the club’s security guard attempted to intervene. “Come on,” Stacey continued to encourage him. Stroking her hand up and down his arm, she felt the tension relieve ever so slightly from his body. He looked down at her with such a blazing fire in his eyes, Stacey shivered. Without saying a word, Andre wrapped his arm around Stacey’s waist and guided them down the hallway and out the club without a backwards glance.
****
The man, now sporting a swollen and bruised eye, was tossed out of the club. He attempted to convince the bouncers at the Black Kitty that he’d just wanted to talk with Jazmine, but they weren’t trying to hear anything he had to say.
“Whatever,” he mumbled to himself as he slid behind the wheel of his black sedan. As soon as he closed the door, he knew he wasn’t alone in the vehicle. In the next instant, his feeling was confirmed.
“Did you get close to him?” the man in the backseat asked.
“Did I get close to him? What does this fucking look like?” he asked, turning so the man could see his swelling eye in plain sight.
“Shit. I didn’t know he’d hit you. So, he’s protective of the girl, huh?”
“You fucking think?” the first man nearly shouted. “Listen, you didn’t tell me this would require me getting hit. I don’t appreciate this shit, Jennings.”
“Just calm down. A little bit of ice and you’ll be fine in a day or two, but what I just found out could be helpful later on. If the girl is his weakness, I can use her to make him regret the day he ever fucked with me and my family’s legacy. Go take care of that eye. I’ll be in touch,” Jennings threw over his shoulder, unconcerned about the man’s injury as he slid out from the backseat of the car. Jennings walked briskly to his own car, not wanting to be seen in the parking lot. He climbed in the backseat of his waiting limousine and snickered to himself.
“I’ll see you soon, Andre,” he mumbled as they pulled off.
Chapter 8
“Andre, slow down. I have on heels remember?” Stacey said as Andre half-dragged, half-carried her through the doors of the building that housed his top floor condo. When the attendant saw Andre coming through the door, he hit the button for Andre’s private elevator. Only Andre and the attendant had the code for the elevator that went directly to his suite.
“Good evening, Mr. Collins,” the attendant called.
Andre merely nodded to acknowledge the man’s greeting, and pulled Stacey onto the elevator. He’d just barely managed to keep his hands off of her as he drove home. Seeing her on stage made him mad with lust and already impatient to take her, but seeing that asshole patron back at the club with his hands on her, made him want to both, break bones and bury himself so deep inside her she wouldn’t be able to walk straight for the next few days.
He tried to breathe deeply to gain control over himself, but that was a bad decision. All it did was serve to fill his nose with the jasmine-scented perfume she wore. Andre looked down at her amber-colored eyes and his arms moved on their own accord, wrapping around her small waist. He looked down at her arm where that prick had gripped her hand. His hand moved up to massage the spot as if trying to erase the memory of the vision of seeing another man’s hand on her.
“I’m okay, really,” she said. “But you might need some ice for that hand of yours.”
She smiled up at him.
“All I need is you, naked. In my bed,” he said before capturing her lips for a soul-stealing kiss. Before he could even enjoy the kiss fully, the elevator dinged, signaling their arrival at his condo. He didn’t allow Stacey time to take in the light grey and black modern style furnishings in his condo, the huge floor to ceiling windows, or the black patio chairs that sat in front of those windows. Within seconds, he had Stacey’s back pressed against the wall in his living room as he sunk down to his knees. With his face right in front of her mound, he inhaled deeply, smelling her arousal. He reached underneath her dress and pulled at the thong panties she wore. Andre made quick work of discarding the panties then threw one of Stacey’s legs over his broad shoulder, pushed her dress up to her hips, and stroked her wet lips with his tongue.
Stacey’s hips jerked forward at the contact and she threw her head against the wall, trapped by her leg on Andre’s shoulder and his strong arms around her waist.
“Huh, Andre!” she yelped when he picked up her second leg to place over his other shoulder and stood completely, taking her off her feet as he held her against the wall using only his hands and body, her pussy completely open and exposed to him.
“You have the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” his hoarse voice whispered against her labia as he stared at her shaved pussy with such awe.
Stacey creamed at the deep wonder she saw etched in the lines of his face as he stared at her most intimate spot.
When his tongue darted out and licked her from taint to clit, Stacey already felt the first tingles of her climax began to rise. She reached around and placed both hands in Andre’s hair urging him on. She soon felt his hot mouth completely cover her as he began sucking her clit, rolling it between his lips before releasing, and doing it all over again. Stacey ground her hips against Andre’s face, her senses heightened by the feeling of her inner thighs being tickled by the hairs from his beard.
“Andre, that feels so good!” she moaned, her fingers tightening their grip in his hair.
Andre continued to hum and moan against her pussy, causing tiny vibrations to reverberate through her core. Stacey couldn’t hold out much longer and soon she found herself falling over
the cliff.
“Ahhhh!” she yelled as she came.
Even as she came, Andre continued to eat her like a man possessed. Before the tremors of her first orgasm ceased, she was already feeling the sensations of another impending orgasm. Andre refused to let her down even as she tried to pull his head away.
“Andre! I-I-Mmmmmmm, AHHHH,” she ended her protest on a moan as he did a move with his tongue that made her forget her first name. Her second orgasm was even more powerful than the first. She screamed Andre’s name, begging him to stop as she pulled at his hair. Finally, he relented as the final tremors of her orgasm ended.
Andre pulled back slightly, lowering her legs from his shoulder but catching them around his waist.
Now they were at eye level, Stacey could see the lingering wetness that remained on Andre’s beard. The gleam of wetness on his lips and beard and the glint in his eyes were irresistible. When he licked his lips and smiled, looking her in the eye, she couldn’t keep her mouth off him any longer. This time she was the one moving in for a deep kiss. Their tongues immediately touched, dancing together in a rhythm only made for one another. Stacey felt cool air against her back when Andre pulled her from the wall and began walking with her legs still wrapped around his waist. She assumed to his bedroom. She was so ready.
Stacey heard a “thud” as Andre kicked his bedroom door open, flicked on a light, and proceeded to lay her down on his huge bed. Stacey felt as if she was being laid in a bed of clouds when the Egyptian cotton sheets touched her back. She reached up to grab Andre, but he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of her wrist before releasing it and stepping back.
“I want to see you.” Andre’s voice was thick with need. “Sit up and remove your dress,” he said authoritatively. He continued to glare at her expectantly.
Stacey felt the heat of his gaze on her and felt completely naked already. She let her own gaze drift over his body. She noticed his labored breathing and spotted the very evident bulge in his pants and smiled. She decided to tease him a little bit.
Black Butterfly, Book 3 of the Black Burlesque Series_an Alpha male, BWWM romance Page 8