by Stacey McCoy
There’s no denying it though. He is looking straight at me and I’m locked in a trance staring straight back at him.
Oh this is ridiculous. He wouldn’t be interested in me. He probably remembers me as the crazy bitch who yelled at him a few months back. And if he's not thinking that then he'd surely be thinking, ‘Damn I bet I’ll get the old girl eight rows back.’
The dance finishes and he exits off stage with the other Sons. He nearly falls over his own two feet trying to look back at me as he’s literally pushed off stage by the other entertainers.
The show continues with a few of the men doing special dances with some of the hens who are there to celebrate their upcoming nuptials and women who are celebrating birthdays.
The Son of Sensuality features in a few more dances. Somehow his eyes again manage to find mine while he performs and he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to any of the other women in the room. My heart beats a little faster as I sit here and watch him watching me. I mentally slap myself for thinking he has some sort of fixation on me. I'm sure he just remembers me as an unhinged human being, but he's smiling each time he looks my way.
A few of the women around us stare at me with evil, jealous eyes.
I know this show. I know roughly how many performances there are and I know they’re coming to the end of the night. I can relax now knowing I won’t be pulled up on stage as there are only two or three more dances to go. The lights dim again to signal the beginning of yet another routine.
And then there he is. The spotlight is on The Son of Sensuality and the room has gone crazy. All of the girls in the club, and some guys, are stimulated beyond their control just by the sight of him. They start yelling out for his attention, but he struggles against the spotlight and somehow his intense, blue eyes once again find me. Instantly I’m lost to his enticing good looks and pant-dropping smile. With a slight nod of his head he gives me a wink and melts what little control I have left over my libido.
The music starts. It’s The Time of My Life no less, from the movie Dirty Dancing and he’s Patrick Swayze looking for Baby who’s left to sit in the corner. He starts to come down the stairs off the stage. He dances up the aisle the same way Patrick does in the movie. I’m excited almost beyond my control. A fantasy flashes past my eyes, ‘I’m going to get laid by the man of my dreams.’ But it’s not me. He can’t possibly be coming for me, I’M NOT ONE OF THE GIRLS GOING UP ON STAGE TONIGHT!
Then he stops right in front of me and I swear the room has gone completely silent and it’s just him and me. My Man of Sensuality is holding his hand out to me (to call him my Son makes me feel uncomfortable as he is definitely all man). He says in a low, hot voice full of sexual intent, “Come dance with me baby.”
I stutter some words, or at least sounds that may possibly represent words, as he grabs my hand and pulls me up from my seat, safely and firmly into his arms. Our argument months ago now a distant memory as I allow him to lead me onto the stage.
My legs feel like jelly, but I somehow manage to make them work. My handsome, male entertainer seems to pick up on my nervousness and starts to dance around me.
His eyes never leave mine.
He’s gentle yet confident in his moves. He guides me perfectly so that I can’t possibly stumble, or embarrass myself. And his smell. My god he smells divine. He exude a strong masculine scent that messes with my head and now I know, this must be why he’s called The Son of Sensuality.
The crowd is going wild. Looking out I can see my mischievous friends on their feet singing and dancing to one of the all-time greatest love songs in the world.
All of a sudden I'm scooped up into his strong arms and spun around and around on stage. He’s so strong. He lifts me easily as if I were no heavier than a bag of feathers. I can’t help but feel completely safe in his arms.
I hold on tight and try not to scream into his ear.
The song comes to an end and as soon as the lights go down he leads me off backstage. My heart is in my throat, my pulse is dangerously high as I’m being led by a man who will from now on feature in my ultimate sexual fantasies. He pulls me into his dressing room which thankfully is the first room off a narrow hallway so we don’t come across any of the other guys.
This beyond gorgeous man shuts the door behind him then turns to face me. It’s not a very big room, actually it’s about as big as my bathroom. He reaches me in two strides, grabs me by my waist and pulls me close to his firm form.
“You’ve come back,” he says.
“Excuse me.”
In my shocked state of excitement I don’t understand the words that are coming out of his beautiful mouth, so I try to pull away from him.
“You were here about six months ago. I remember you. I can’t believe you’re here.”
His face is serious and he expresses a look of yearning. His hands remain firmly on my body. He won't let me go and I kind of like it, but on the other hand I want him to let me go. I mean what the hell is going on here?
Ok so he remembers me. Surely if I play dumb maybe he won't recall the heated conversation we had the last time I was here and he'll release me from his hot hands.
“Oh I don’t remember. Are you sure you’re not confusing me with someone else?”
“Nope, no way. Ever since I saw you the last time you were here I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind and I’ve kicked myself every day for not running after you that night, but I noticed you were wearing a wedding ring so I let you go. Do you feel like you could talk to me tonight and not scream at me?" he asks with a smile that reveals dimples on both cheeks.
Damn it. He does recall my erratic antics from that night.
"Yeah look about that, I'm sorry I acted the way I did. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. You didn't do anything wrong."
"It's good to hear you say that. All I wanted to do was take you out for a drink and talk to you for a while. I didn’t have any expectations, I just wanted to cheer you up."
"Yeah I know. It's just I was in no mood for that at that time."
And as if he's a child locked inside a lolly shop for the night he grins at me and asks, "Are you in the mood tonight?"
My knees buckle. He's quick to grasp my waist tighter as I hope and pray that it was his intention to add a little sexual innuendo to his question.
"Maybe. I don't no. I'm here with my friends you see."
He’s still holding me close to him as if letting go of me is the last thing he wants to do. With my mouth open yet zero sound coming out The Son of Sensuality laughs lightly then asks me if I want to sit down. After guiding me gently to the blue, two seater couch he makes me a drink from his well-stocked mini bar. Vodka and Orange Juice. It’s what I’ve been drinking all night. How did he know that?
I try not to scull my drink, but I so desperately want to calm my shaking body. After a moment’s silence he sits next to me and asks, “I don’t want to sound rude, and I’m only assuming you’re no longer married, but is there a boyfriend I should know about?”
Swallowing the other half of my drink I stare bewilderedly into his beautiful clear blue eyes.
“I...I...No I don't have a boyfriend." It's not a lie, but it's not answering his question correctly either.
"Oh great. So you're single?" He sounds so excited to hear that I'm single, whereas I'm devastated to acknowledge the fact. I’m feeling such a mix of emotions. I don’t know what to do, or what to say. So he speaks instead.
“The reason I ask is I can't help but notice that you're not wearing any rings tonight. Can I ask what happened? I mean it’s none of my business obviously, but if there’s any chance you’re available I’d love to buy you a drink after the show. Maybe even have a second crack at cheering you up?”
I remember the moment Sam slid my wedding ring onto my finger. I look away because tears are building in my eyes. I’ve had enough crying tonight and I don’t want to cry in front of him, which makes me realise I don’t even know his name.
“Um my rings are in my room safe, but first things first, what is your name?”
“Oh…”
He looks and sounds like I’ve just crushed his heart with my bare hands.
In a flat voice, staring down at the floor with his shoulders now hunched over, he replies, “My name is Jake.”
“It’s really great to meet you Jake and I’m unbelievably flattered but…”
I can’t think what the ‘but’ is going to mean. What do I say after that? Whatever I say after that one word could send my life down one of two very different roads and I fear the difference between the two roads could either be possible happiness, or continued sadness.
I continue talking and decide it’s best to speak from the heart. I’ve always followed my heart when it comes to these situations. It’s has gotten me in trouble before, but this way of thinking also helped me start my relationship with Sam and I figure my heart couldn’t possibly break any more than it already has. The Son of Sensuality might even help put the pieces back together again.
Taking a deep steadying breath I hold my glass in both hands and stare down into its icy contents. “Jake I’ll be honest with you. My husband died nearly a year ago. I still wear my rings because…they comfort me, but technically I’m not married anymore. My girlfriends bought me here tonight in the hope of giving me a good time. I need time to chill out with my friends and just have fun. To come here tonight and be able to meet you again is a fantasy come true. I'm sorry again for the way I acted the last time we met, but I'm happy I had the opportunity to apologise to you.”
Before I can continue Jake looks at me with sympathy in his eyes. I get the feeling he really cares about what I’m saying.
I continue, “Jake I would love to have a drink with you after the show, but I’m with my friends, I can’t just ditch them.”
His hope seems to have been renewed. He sits on the edge of the tiny two seater couch and places one hand on my knee as the other stretches out across the back of the couch behind me. His hand is hot, sweaty and large. I can feel the strength in it as he lightly squeezes my thigh.
“No of course not, that’s fine I understand. They can come with us. I’m sure a few of the guys would love to wind down and have drinks with your friends. We can make it a group thing…whatever makes you feel comfortable. I’m so sorry to hear about your husband. I had no idea and I hope I haven’t come on too strong, but I really like you and I would love to see you again.”
“Why don’t we take one step at a time? Don’t you have a show to finish?” I ask.
“Shit I completely forgot. Fuck! Um let me show you the way out then I’ve got to get back on stage. I’ll find you after the show.”
We stand together. Jake seems frustrated as he rakes his hands through his hair. I can't help but stare as every muscle in his abdomen flexes. A rush of heat washes over me.
“I’ll see you upstairs for the group photo?” he asks. It’s a plea more so than a request.
I can’t help but smile in reaction to his happiness. Jake looks at me with a kind of hope in his eyes. His voice lowers as he moves closer and says, “I’ll make sure we get one with just the two of us…if you like?”
I feel a heady warmth between my thighs again, just simply from his words.
“Yes Jake. I would like that very much.”
All I can do is smile while Jake takes my hand and leads me back to the side entrance of the backstage area.
Chapter THREE
I return to my seat and the girls instantly start to grill me.
I hold my hands up to get their undivided attention, “I’ll reveal all to the first person who buys me a drink after the show. Now shut up and watch.”
That will hold them off for all of about, hmm, thirty seconds.
Simone leans over to speak into my ear, “So what the hell happened back there? He was looking at you like he’s just falling madly in love with you.”
“Don’t be stupid, he doesn’t love me. Although he does remember me.”
“WHAT!”
Simone is shocked to say the least.
“What do you mean he remembers you? How often do you come to these shows?”
“The last time was a little over six months ago.”
“Holy crap, he remembers you from that long ago?”
“Yeah unfortunately he does.”
“What do you mean unfortunately?”
I can feel my cheeks flush as I recall the embarrassing moment Jake took my hand in his.
“Well he grabbed my hand and I lost my shit. I turned terminator on him and stormed off.”
“Oh. I see,” says Simone as no doubt a version of the scene plays out in her mind. She knows how I feel about holding hands with another man.
“So what happens now?” she asks.
“Well he said he wants to take some time to get to know me.”
“Holy shit! That’s great.”
“Yes and he wants to have drinks after the show, but I told him I’m with my girlfriends and I wouldn’t ditch them for any man.”
“ARE YOU COMPLETELY MAD?”
“Simone, why don’t you shout a little louder? I don’t think the people in the downstairs car park heard you?”
“I don’t give a shit who heard me! Let me get this straight, you mean to tell me that this beyond gorgeous guy pulls you up on stage to dance the most romantic, hot dance with you, then drags you out the back to tell you he has been pining over you for months now and he wants to have drinks with you after the show and you tell him ‘no, sorry, I’m here with my friends?’”
“Yeah that’s about it. But I seriously doubt he’s been pining, as you put it.”
Simone is now speechless, which is not an easy feat to achieve. I feel quite proud that I’ve been the one to silence her, but the peace doesn’t last long.
“You are not going to let this opportunity pass by just because we brought you down here for the weekend. This is too good to be true. You have to go have drinks with him.”
“Okay,” I say.
“What?”
I laugh, but Simone doesn’t look impressed. I shouldn’t be mocking her so I explain.
“I’ve already agreed to have drinks with him after the show.”
“What and just leave all of us on our own,” Simone says as she folds her arms across her chest. Mocking me.
“Jake and some of the guys are going to hang out with all of us for a bit after the show.”
Simone’s jaw is on the floor. Once again she’s speechless. She decides to stay quiet this time.
I return my gaze to the stage and instantly my eyes connect with Jake’s. He seems to be laughing. He shakes his head a little and shrugs his shoulders as if he has not only heard every word of my conversation with Simone but also understands how I’m feeling. I don’t think anyone could understand how I’m feeling right now. Hell I don’t!
The show finishes with a rousing applause and ear piercing wolf whistles. The host of the evening introduces each dancer by name as they bow to the audience for their final goodbyes. It’s Jake’s turn, but she announces Jake as Jackson. Why would she call him Jackson? He told me his name is Jake. He has no reason to lie to me it just seems odd.
We’re on our way upstairs and Simone hasn’t left my side. In fact she’s holding my hand and squeezing it like the action is going to make words gush out of my mouth. She wants to know every little detail of mine and Jake’s, or Jackson’s, conversation back stage in his dressing room.
“So, Jake hey,” she says.
“Yes, his name is Jake. Well I think it is.”
“Nice name. Sexy name don’t you think? It’s an easy name to scream while he’s fucking you.”
I slap Simone on her arm and tell her there will be no screaming of his name from my lips tonight.
We hit the bar for a refill then line up with all the other women to get our profession
al photo taken with the boys.
A young blonde girl in front of me spins her head around, looks me up and down, turns back to her friends with her nose stuck up in the air and laughs. I look back at Simone who has seen the whole thing and I know she’s got my back. Simone knows that there is no way I’m going to let this juvenile, fake-blonde, piece of work get away with that level of rudeness. I tap the little princess on the shoulder. She spins around and snaps at me like as if I’m the one who has insulted her.
“What’s your problem, Princess?” I say.
“Oh my god. Like you’re my problem, Granny.”
Well now I’m pissed. I know I’m one of the older ladies in this club, but I’m stuffed if I’m going to let some young blonde piece of arse, wearing heels so high that if there were a stiff breeze, she’d fall over and show everyone her perfectly waxed vagina while spread eagle on the floor in the middle of the club call me GRANNY. Hell she’s probably not even old enough yet to grow any pubic hair to warrant having it waxed off.
Unable to control my soaring degree of disgust due to the amount of alcohol I’ve had tonight I bite back.
“What the fuck did you call me?”
“Granny! Granny, Granny, Granny. Shouldn’t you be getting back to the old folks home right about now. You’re so wasting your time here.”
“What do you mean, I’m wasting my time?”
“You’re like completely in denial if you think one of these guys would ever look twice at you. They’re into younger girls like me.”
“They would be charged with paedophilia if they even talked to a girl like you.”
“Well like why don’t we see which one out of the two of us they would pick?”
“Okay, sounds like a fair bet.”
“Fair huh. Granny I’m going to take The Son of Sensuality home with me tonight and your gunna go home and cry.”
She’s choosing Jake because she and the other two hundred odd women in here tonight saw me dance with him. She’s jealous and I’m going to act a decade younger than I am and gloat and rub it into her smug little face when I win this bet.