StriporTreat

by Jana Mercy

  “Yes, Miss Sophia?”

  “Is everyone decent? I’d like to speak to Mr. Fleming?”

  “Mr. Fleming?” The guy’s expression remained blank.

  “The plumber.”

  “Oh, him.” The man’s face split in a grin. “He’s over this way making sure all his pipes are in working order.”

  “Sure, he is.” Sophia entered the dressing room, trying to keep her eyes off all the prima donnas flexing their muscles. A few were even applying makeup. Well, for that matter, several of the club’s strippers wore stage makeup too. But not Gray.

  “Sophia?” Nate glanced around the crowded dressing room. “What are you doing in here?”

  “I’ve come to beg you to change your mind.” Just like she wanted to beg Gray to change his mind about stripping, about anything illegal he was involved in. Although she had to admit the worn flannel and scruffy jeans did look great on Nate. Had she not known what he’d be wearing, she might not have recognized the man before her. He seemed more relaxed than she’d ever known Nate to be.

  Odd, as he was going on stage to strip for a rowdy crowd of “ladies”.

  “You can’t change my mind.” He flashed her a naughty grin.

  No, she couldn’t change his mind. Nor Gray’s. Nor her own for that matter.

  “But you can wish me luck.”

  * * * * *

  Gray kept a smile plastered on his face while he waited in the main dressing room. He was the last stripper. Personally, he’d rather have been the first and gotten the damn thing over with.

  “Man, you don’t look so good.” Robbie the Rocket sank onto the sofa where Gray moped—waited—for his turn.

  “Just nervous.”

  The young man stretched back. “Yep, I used to be the same way.”

  Something in his tone caused Gray to look more closely. Was Robbie Hooper’s contact? The kid couldn’t be more than twenty-five. Probably not even that. Robbie the Rocket’s claim to fame was giving an “out of this world” performance. Gray had caught a few of the guy’s strips. Based upon the audience’s reaction, he’d say the kid was good.

  “Really? How do you deal with the pre-show jitters?”

  Robbie laughed, eyeing Gray curiously. “Ken helped me.”

  “Barnes?” Could this be the break he’d hoped for?

  “Yeah, he gave me a little piece of…advice. From that point on, doing the show’s been a breeze. I mean I’m a frickin rocket, what’s not to love about a man who can carry a woman to such heights?”

  Gray figured that was more than he wanted to know but he pressed on. “What was this great advice Barnes gave? I need all the help I can get before tonight’s show.”

  “Man, I ain’t supposed to say anything.” He looked around the dressing room, nervously. The other strippers busily made last-minute costume checks. “But you seem cool, so I’ll share my little secret. Well, actually it was Ken’s secret.”

  Gray waited.

  “Pretend all the women are naked,” the other stripper whispered as if his words were top secret.

  Robbie’s words shocked him. He’d been expecting something more…useful. Not an admission of guilt but certainly something more revealing than the oldest performance trick in existence.

  “Not sure that’ll help,” Gray admitted. The only woman he wanted to imagine naked didn’t trust him.

  Robbie snorted with sympathy. “Yeah, man. I understand. Didn’t help me either come to think about it.”

  “So what did?”

  Robbie stared at him for a full minute then, stood, walked to his duffle bag and slipped something into his palm before returning to the sofa. “Here, dude. This one’s on me, just because you look like you’re having a rough time of it but next time it’ll cost ya.”

  Gray stared at the small vial Robbie placed in his hand.

  Should he arrest the kid right now? Gut instinct told him to play it cool. Robbie was a minnow in this organization. There were bigger fish to fry. To arrest Robbie would risk alerting the higher ups.

  Tonight was when Lawrence’s sources said something big would come down at the club. Gray’s instincts agreed.

  He’d bid his time and catch those bigger fish.

  “Thanks man.”

  “No biggie.” Robbie shrugged. “Let me know if ya need more. I’m hooked up, you might say. Especially now that Barnes is outta here.”

  The music changed and Robbie turned away before Gray could ask more. “My number’s next. Gotta go make the ladies cream in their jeans.”

  “Thanks again.” Gray stuck the vial into his duffel bag, hiding the evidence at the tip of his tennis shoe.

  * * * * *

  From behind a rack of costumes, Sophia watched Gray take the vial from Robbie. What was inside? A sinking feeling tugged on her stomach.

  Gray was involved with drugs.

  Robbie left via the exit that led to the stage and Sophia eased further into the room while Gray slipped the vial into his bag.

  He looked up, obviously startled to see her. “Sophia.”

  Was that guilt on his face? Or just surprise that she sought him out?

  She stepped closer to where he sat.

  He’d quickly cloaked whatever emotions had been on his face. “What are you doing back here? You should stay up front with Madame G.”

  “I suppose.” Her heart thundered. Gray was a criminal. How could he make her heart race and her breath catch when he used drugs? But criminal or not, she’d gotten him into this stripping situation and she’d offer to get him out one last time. “Speaking of which, I talked to Aunt Genevieve. The crowd is having a grand time so it isn’t necessary for you to take off your clothes.”

  He snorted and rolled his eyes. “You’ve billed me as the grand finale. ‘For a treat so Delicious, you’ll have to see him unwrapped to believe’,” he mimicked the flyer they’d plastered around downtown. “Women have paid good money expecting to see me strip. What kind of message would it send if I didn’t?”

  “But don’t you get it? You don’t have to. I’d thought you did but there’s no reason for you to do this. Not when you don’t want to.”

  “No reason, except that I said I would. I’m a man of my word.” His gaze bored into her. “So I will.”

  She eyed him curiously. What was going on? Did he mean to punish her for telling Nate about the books and not him? Or was he still cock-fighting with Nate, intending to outdo him on the stage? “I thought you didn’t want to do Strip or Treat.”

  “I don’t,” he immediately answered but something in his expression didn’t sit right.

  “Why not take the out I’m giving you?” Which was a question she’d really like an answer to. One of many.

  “I’ve explained that.”

  “Not with a reason that makes sense.”

  “Maybe not to someone like you but it does to me.”

  “Someone like me?” Oh, this was getting good. She crossed her arms and stared at him, all but daring him to answer.

  “Someone lacking ethics.”

  He was going to knock her for lacking ethics? Him? Wasn’t that the pot calling the kettle black? His gaze averted and an awful suspicion nagged. This wasn’t about her telling Nate or even about the club at all. It was about them.

  “You’re scared,” she accused. He didn’t so much as blink an eye but the second the words popped out of her mouth she knew they were true.

  “Scared?” he mocked. His face remained stony. “I told you I’m going on stage to fulfill my Strip or Treat obligations to your aunt. What do you mean ‘scared’?”

  “Not of stripping. Of me,” she clarified. “You’re afraid of the way you feel about me and you’re using the fact I told Nate but not you about the books to drive a wedge between us. And that’s why you’re insisting upon stripping. Because you detest the thought of doing so and you’re going to hold this against me too.”

  “You’re wrong.” A flicker of doubt shadowed his eyes for the briefest of s
econds before he masked it behind another cold glare.

  “Sure I am.” But she wasn’t. Why would Gray be afraid of her? Of what they’d shared? For the same reasons she had been?

  Had been? She stared at him and realized the redhead wasn’t the one for Gray. She was. She was the woman who was strong enough to stand by his side. No matter what. Even if it meant loving someone who ran on the wrong side of the law.

  He ran a hand through his silky black locks. “Look, I think it better if you stay out front, close to Madame G. She might need you tonight.”

  At the minimum he used drugs. Possibly, he was using her aunt’s club as a cover for trafficking drugs. Love obviously made her very foolish, because she couldn’t hold her tongue.

  “I love you.”

  His gaze scanned the dressing room. Only a handful of strippers remained. Most of the guys who had already performed were in the break room waiting until after Gray’s performance when they’d go mingle with the ladies. “No you don’t.”

  “Yes I do.” The words came out louder than she’d meant and several of the strippers turned to look at them. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t return my feelings, Gray but a foolish part of me believes you do.” Another snort shook his shoulders. “But I want you to know how I feel. Before you choose to go out on that stage, because you and I both know if you go out there it’s not because you’re doing it for me or even for Aunt Genevieve.”

  “You’re the one who wanted me to do this. How could my stripping possibly be for the wrong reasons?”

  Did he believe that? She put her hands on her hips and stared at him. Yes, he did.

  “Tell me, do you always run away when your heart gets involved or is this something new?” His mouth opened but she rushed on before he could speak. “Don’t bother answering ’cause it really doesn’t matter. You’re running now. Away from me. Away from facing the choices you’ve made in the past. Fine. If that’s what you want, then so be it.” She tossed his earlier words back out at him. “Just remember this is what you chose, Gray. Because someday you’re going to look back on this day when you behaved like a gutless coward and you’re going to wish you had taken a different path. A path not quite so lonely. Because I could forgive whatever it is you’ve done and we’d have been good together if we’d trusted each other.”

  “Sophia, we’ll talk about this later.” His jaw tightened and he raked his fingers through his hair again. “Now isn’t a good time. Not the right time. We’ll talk tonight. After the show. Just promise me you’ll stay out front with Madame G.”

  Sad, she shook her head, spun on her heel and walked to the door. Turning, she tossed one more parting shot.

  “If you opt to go through with this, at least be honest with yourself about the reasons why you’re going up on that stage.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nate peered out from behind the dark velvet curtain to look at the audience. Women everywhere.

  Despite his brave words to Sophia, the thought of going on stage suddenly wasn’t so appealing. Why had he mouthed off that he wanted to do this?

  Because he’d known she was right and he really did want a change. What better way to step out of his stuffed suit than to literally step out of his suit and dance on stage as a stripping plumber?

  He enjoyed dancing a decade and a half ago. It had been about that long since he’d gone dancing. All the money he could ever want and he worked from dawn to dusk. And quite often long into the darkness.

  Why? To amass more money? To have more power? For what? A lonely Ebenezer Scrooge existence? Hell, he even tried to buy himself the perfect wife. Or what he thought would be the perfect wife. Apparently he’d been wrong on several counts.

  Did he even want a wife or was it just another possession he’d meant to acquire to fill some void in his life?

  “You’re on next.” A man with a clipboard nudged Nate.

  “Sure thing.” Nerves of steel and a flair for always being ahead of the game. That’s what the Wall Street Journal had said about him on more than one occasion. Oh yeah, he was way ahead of the game. So much so his knees had turned to jelly.

  But he wouldn’t back down. He’d do this and he’d do a damn fine job of taking off his clothes.

  Hell, he’d never had any complaints before.

  An improv strip. This should be good.

  A bluesy number with a great rhythm blared over the loudspeaker.

  It was now or never.

  With a twirl of his plunger, Nate stepped onto the stage. His gaze met Sophia’s. She shrugged, gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs up.

  He took a deep breath and moved to the music.

  Please let his clothes rip off like they were supposed to. There had only been the one tear away flannel shirt and he hadn’t been able to practice.

  Not any of this.

  He grabbed the soft material and tugged. Rip. The seams gave way. Thank God.

  A feminine whoop sounded from somewhere in the audience. Still moving to the music, Nate scanned the money-waving crowd.

  They were enjoying this.

  He was doing it.

  From the women’s excited expressions, he wasn’t half bad.

  With his first genuine smile since stepping onto stage, he shimmied toward a table. He allowed a plucky brunette, who screamed and waved a wad of green at him, to jerk on his ratty white T-shirt. The material ripped. The crowd squealed with delight when she brandished the rag above her head like a coveted trophy.

  “Work it, big boy,” a hefty blonde urged.

  “Show us how you use that plunger, hot stuff,” another called.

  “You can play with my pipes any day of the week,” yet another shouted above the noisy club.

  Hell, this was fun.

  Nate grinned at the ladies then turned his back to the audience, shook his rear at them as he bent over and plunged the floor. Now, he knew why his jeans had been so low-waisted in the back. He provided the proverbial plumber’s crack shot.

  How tacky. How not boring.

  “God, I think I just sprung a leak.”

  “My faucet’s certainly dripping wet.”

  “Work it. Work it.”

  Nate snorted while he pumped his body to the music. He turned and whirled the plunger around, dancing back toward the women.

  A spunky redhead caught his eyes. Her companions were uglier than hell but she was the hottest thing since Starbucks.

  Her amused green eyes twinkled and she smiled at him.

  He danced to her and worked his hips back and forth. “Rip off my jeans,” he encouraged, liking the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

  “Me?” She looked startled. Good. He got the impression it took a lot to shake this woman. And the need to rattle her appealed.

  “Oh yeah.” Nate flashed her a smile and nodded his head.

  “Come on, Joey. You can do it,” one of the ugly women encouraged.

  Joey? This gorgeous woman’s name was Joey?

  With interest on her face, she ran her gaze over his worn jeans. “Rip them off?” She licked her full lips. “Okay but just remember, you asked for this.”

  “Go, Joey. Go Joey,” the two hideous women cheered when she rubbed her hands over his hips. Her green, green eyes darkened while she cupped his buttocks briefly. Eyes locked with his, she curled the soft denim in her hands and tugged. Hard.

  Harder than Nate expected. So hard that he lunged forward when the seams only partially gave way.

  Oh hell. He fell onto her.

  That wasn’t supposed to happen.

  But he had to admit, she felt wonderful pressed against him. She smelled even better. Something spicy and foreign. Something unique that he couldn’t put his finger on. However, his fingers were on Joey, on her arms as he pushed himself to his feet and pulled her with him.

  Her amused gaze told him she knocked him off balance intentionally. Yet she couldn’t have known his pants wouldn’t give.

  “Go do your show, plumbe
r boy.”

  “No.” He stared into her eyes. Had he ever seen more beautiful eyes? They shone as vivid as the lushest forest. Talk about a walk on the wild side. This woman was wild and free and everything he wasn’t. Nothing boring about her. She screamed adventure and excitement.

  Nate was excited. And hard. Good thing his jeans hadn’t come off. He wanted them off.

  Her brow arched. “Oh?”

  “You haven’t done your job. Yet.”

  Her mouth curved and Nate knew he’d know a lot more than just this woman’s name before the night was over.

  She ran her palms down his waist again, sensitizing his skin and jerked on the jeans. This time the seam tore completely loose, revealing his aroused state.

  Raising the denim, she eyed him. Her expression curious and taunting. “Now what? Need me to hold your plunger for you too?”

  His plunger? Where had the prop gone?

  There, in the floor next to her seat.

  Not that she’d been talking about the prop.

  “I do the plunging, doll.” He grinned, scooped up the tool of his trade and danced back to the stage. His song was almost over but he didn’t care. He felt alive. Really alive.

  For the remainder of his act, his gaze remained locked with Joey’s. Even without hearing what her friends said, he could tell they ribbed her. She seemed oblivious to their gibes. Oblivious to everything but the attraction between them. Like a wild she-cat trying to decide whether or not to take on this fight, sizing up whether or not she thought she’d be the winner if she did.

  Nate had a feeling they’d both win.

  He wanted a walk on the wild side. With Joey.

  The music picked up tempo when the song came to a climactic end. Women cheered and flashed money.

  Nate made the rounds, letting women tuck dollar bills into his snug, low-waist boxer-style shorts. He flashed a smile at the squealing audience, felt more energetic than he had in years and turned to where Joey sat.

  She didn’t return his smile but heat blazed in her eyes. Animal heat. Pure, unadulterated lust. For him as a man and nothing to do with the size of his wallet. Although from the way she stared appreciatively at his groin, size definitely mattered to this woman.