by Ashley Logan
Fumbling in my bag, I pull out my wallet. Slipping some cash out, I signal to Benji. “This is for the beer, man. Also, can I have some of those envelopes?”
Posting them through a slot, just like a lot of other people, I take my beer and head back over to see Bruno before the next set starts.
“What kind of shit do you do when you’re on stage?” I ask as he smiles in greeting. “Do you go upside down?”
“Sometimes,” he says, looking at me strangely. “Sometimes I just dance. Sometimes I use the pole. Why? Coming to watch next time, or are you flirting with me?”
Giving him a roll of my eyes, I take another sip of my beer. “I had no idea that upside-down was that sexy. And this,” I say, pointing the beer I’m holding back towards the club, “Is not what I have come to expect from a strip joint. I mean, these girls can... move.”
“Yeah,” Bruno says slowly, as if I’m dense. “I tried to tell you.”
“Dude, when you said you were going to be a stripper, I didn’t think it would be something I’d watch, no matter what the fuck you were doing on stage, so I stopped listening. But this shit is tasteful and artistic. It’s like watching an actual stage show, but way, way hotter. No wonder people drop serious cash in here.”
“Glad you like it. I’ll tell Prez that Damon Almighty approves of her righteous business plan. I’m sure she’ll be most impressed. Probably get your opinion engraved on a plaque and everything. We can hang it right here,” he says, framing a rectangle shape on the wall by the door with his fingers, “For everyone to see.”
“Or not,” I say, squinting at him in annoyance. “What’s your beef?”
“Nothing. Fuck off and watch the show.”
Looking at him sideways, I fit my beer into my elbow so I can fold my arms. “Are you pissed because I haven’t seen you dance naked? Because that thought is just freaking me out.”
“Scarlett’s on next.”
“Oh. Oh. Okay. I’ll just stay here then. I don’t want things to be weird between us because I saw your future wife naked. Dude, settle.”
Visibly relaxing, Bruno leans against the wall next to me. “Good.”
“Although, I’m sure you’ve seen Alexa in the same light, so maybe I should -”
When he grabs for me, I’m ready. I’ve provoked this bear before - it’s kind of a hobby. Leaping out of his way, I crack up. “Easy tiger, I was just kidding!” I say, still laughing as he makes to grab me again and I narrowly escape. “Careful. You’re gonna make me spill my beer.”
“I’ll spill you’re blood if you’re not careful,” he threatens, with a grin on his face. “And stop dancing in the foyer or people will think they have to tip you.”
“I wouldn’t mind that,” I say, resuming my position against the wall next to him. “Although it might be that they’d be paying me to stop. My skills aren’t quite up to this level.”
Laughing quietly, Bruno speaks into his collar. When Cooper arrives, Bruno gives him a nod. “Keep this one out here. He’s dodgy,” he says, jabbing his thumb at me as he moves into the club.
“You on break?” I call, following him. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
Putting his hand on my chest to stop me, Bruno shakes his head. “I’m watching Scarlett. You’re staying here. Besides, I work here. I don’t need to pay for drinks.”
Looking down at his hand on my chest, I raise my eyes to his face again. “Fine. You can stop touching my boobs now. Or does that help get you in the mood too?”
Removing his hand he cuffs me around the head with it and laughs. “Go fuck yourself Shermansky.”
“Only if you give me a hand.” Laughing, I kick him in the ass as he walks away. Turning back to Coop, I see he’s looking at me funny. Groaning, I shake my head. “Are you trying to figure out how I’d fuck myself? Because I’m still trying to figure it out myself, if you have any suggestions.”
Laughing, Coop shakes his head. “I was actually wondering if a man could ever be flexible enough to suck his own cock.”
“Well I haven’t cracked it yet,” I reply, taking another sip of beer. “Maybe those yogi guys in India that fold themselves up can do it.”
Shaking his head again, Coop pulls his coat closed as he steps out to check the street. Coming back in, he makes himself comfortable at his post. “You going to fill me in on the end of that story? Did you make it across the state line?”
“Oh, yeah. The cop was a regular donut delight, and I can run pretty fast. He gave up halfway across the bridge, but I didn’t stop running for at least another three miles. I was paranoid the port authority would be on me any minute.”
“Then what?”
“I stole someone's shorts from their clothesline and hitched a ride back to my hotel - which was as easy as you’d imagine, for a guy with no thumbs. And that was the last time I’ll ever try to drink an Irishman under the table.”
Cooper and I trade stories until he moves back into position inside the club as Bruno returns.
“Enjoy yourself, big guy?” I ask as Bruno adjusts his crotch and assumes his position at the door.
Saying nothing, he just smiles and holds his hand out for the IDs of an approaching group. Each of them pays the cover charge, and Bruno waves them on through. All until the last man.
“Not you.”
“What? Why not?”
“You’ve been banned A-hole and you know it. Step away now while you still can,” Bruno says, handing the guy his license back. “Next,” he calls to two women waiting to enter.
Holding his hand out to stop them, the guy turns back to Bruno. “But this is my first time!” the man protests. “How can I be banned if I’ve never been here?”
“Josh Winston, you dumb fuck. Did you honestly think that if you used a fake license, I wouldn’t remember your ugly face and the fact that you tried to spike a girl’s drink to fuck her senseless? Get out of my face before I grind you into a pulp.”
Not denying the allegations, Josh Winston’s face holds no evidence of remorse as he looks longingly into the club where his friends have now disappeared. Looking back to Bruno, he blatantly sizes him up. The guy is clearly deluded if he’s even thinking about pushing the issue.
Bruno starts counting down from five. At ‘two’ Josh Winston, leaves with a disgruntled huff. Turning on his most charming smile, Bruno greets the waiting women with extra smooth manners and assurances of their peace and safety. They both practically drop their panties for him on their way past, making several over the shoulder glances before they move out of sight.
“You must make a killing on Ladies’ Night,” I say, shaking my head in disbelief.
“Mom’s care is expensive.”
“Do you ever wonder about all these other chicks now that your dick works?”
Glaring at me, Bruno takes a long moment to answer. “There has been one woman for me since I met her. Why? Do you wonder about other chicks, or just one? Because Lex is about to start her set and if you hurt her, I’ll fuck you up - best friend or not. You get me?”
Thrown, I take a sip of my beer. “It was just a question, pussy magnet. I already told you how things are. If you think I’d hurt her, then you don’t know me at all.”
“Of course I know you, drama queen. And I know her. This is a standard warning any man who touches her gets,” he says with a stern look. “Consider her my little sister.”
“Well all right then,” I say, adjusting my hold on my now empty beer bottle. “That’s a language I understand. It’s just weird coming out of your mouth. I really should have come around and met your family sooner. It’s opened up a whole other side to you I didn’t know existed.”
“Dude why are you standing here flapping your gums? Flex will be on stage any minute.”
Looking into the club, I hesitate.
“Nervous about the clothes coming off in front of spectators?” Bruno asks with a knowing smile.
“Maybe.”
“Trust me. Just watch and you’ll know ev
erything you need to know.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ll see everything she’s not telling you in words. Just sack up and go. Once she starts you’ll forget there’s anyone else there, because she’ll be dancing for you. Just go,” he says, taking my empty bottle and pushing me into the club.
“What if she’s not dancing for me?”
“Watch her and you’ll know.”
Muttering under my breath, I find a dark corner to stand in as Smith introduces Flex to the stage. Soft, sweet and almost sorrowful music begins to play as the curtain starts to rise. Immediately, my eyes are searching for any sign of her, but the stage is bare; nothing but black. A panic begins to rise inside me, wondering if I’m to blame for her absence. Finally I see her.
Completely shrouded in black, she is almost invisible, but the appearance of a pale pink beam of light frames her gently as she begins to move. Perfectly in time with the music, she somehow makes being invisible sexy too. It’s as if her billowing black shroud is a bed sheet and the things happening beneath it are pure imagination as you catch a glimpse of the shape of her breast, the grasp of her hand, or the curve of her ass.
Seeming to float above the stage in a slow, swirling flow of captivation, Alexa begins to appear, one achingly beautiful limb at a time. Then, in a flash of movement, the bulk of her cover disappears, leaving her clad only in a black, off-the-shoulder sort of draped dress that barely covers her, allowing just a peek of her perfect cheeks here and there as she moves about the stage so gracefully it hurts.
Her face is painted. Matching her color scheme is just one black stripe, wide across her eyes, like a burglars mask. Long blond waves fall freely behind her as she moves, cascading down her back or sensually caressing her wherever her movements take them, as if she’s intentionally causing her hair to glide pleasurably over her skin. The whole effect is breath-taking.
Every movement is so subtle and tentative, but the effect is just the opposite. My heart is pounding in my ears and I couldn’t pull my eyes away if I tried. Enraptured. My pain forgotten, I’m caught up in her every move, desperate for more. The sparkles are all around me.
The fabric of her dress disappears, leaving her in just a tiny black thong and her face paint. The stretch of her legs, the arch of her back and the thrust of her chest, all of it is visible now and gloriously so. Not once does she make an obscene motion, or pretend to grind the floor, or a pole, or even touch herself to tease the audience. This is Alexa. Pure and simple, and absolutely, irresistibly beautiful.
The music and her movements begin to speed up and she flies about the stage, stopping abruptly every now and then to push away some imaginary thing, only to spin away, or leap in a different direction. The way her body moves is hypnotic as she seems to flee from every side. Continuing to push away even more things as they apparently encroach upon her, Alexa takes center stage and drops her head as the music comes to a sudden halt. Standing firm with her arms out-stretched to each side and her palms flexed up as though they’re screaming ‘stop!’ Alexa slowly raises her head. Staring straight ahead with that haunting black stripe, the audience is silenced by her intensity and the rapid rise and fall of her chest that accentuates her bust and the glistening sheen of her skin.
The noise only starts as the curtain begins to lower. The applause is nearly deafening. Before Alexa disappears from view, I watch as her head turns directly to me. Our eyes meet and in that brief moment, before the curtain conceals her from view, I understand.
I will do anything in my power to make her feel safe.
Practically running back to Bruno, I bounce at the door to the stairs. “Let me up. Now.”
“Why?” Bruno laughs, punching in the code. “Trying to hide a hard-on, or did you jizz in your pants already?”
Looking down, I adjust my boner to make it less obvious. “No. Shut up. I just need to think a bit before Alexa gets upstairs.”
Bruno laughs and opens the door for me. “Whatever man. Don’t ‘think’ too hard.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALEXA
The living room is empty when I get upstairs. Tightening the sash of my robe, I walk through the kitchen and check my room. Frowning, I return to the living room.
Finally, I find Damon in the study. Watching him from the doorway as he paces back and forth, I prepare myself for the end. It was inevitable really, and probably for the best. Wishing it wasn’t over this soon, I knock gently on the open door.
Damon’s head snaps up and he stops pacing. “Alexa.”
Closing my eyes, I let the shiver take its course. How he does it just by saying my name, I have no idea, but I’m going to miss it. When I open my eyes again, he is standing right in front of me, his eyes searching my face.
I watch, frozen, as he raises a stump to my face. Before it touches me, he looks at it. With a pained look in his eyes, he lowers it again. Looking me in the eyes, he wets his lips.
“May I please kiss you, Alexa?”
Surprised, I nod. His lips are on mine in a flash, making those tremors he sets off multiply, and travel throughout my entire body. Longing to feel his body against me, I realize he’s purposely holding it back. Kissing him more deeply, I reach for him, pulling him in to press against me. Moaning, he pulls his face away, standing tall so I can’t reach him.
“Damon what’s wrong?”
Shaking his head, he rubs his forehead. “It just feels so good when you pull me in,” he says, not meeting my eyes. “I don’t want you to push me away. I won’t hurt you, Alexa.”
“That’s very good to hear, Mr. Serious. Can you put your sexy mouth back on mine now?”
Looking down at me, he smiles cautiously. “May I wrap my arms around you?”
“You may.”
His arms slip around me as his lips return to mine and I find myself melting into him. The warmth of his embrace is more comforting than I would think possible after knowing him for such a brief time. Feeling not only safe, but incredibly attracted to him, I give myself over to the pleasure of his gentle touch. Slipping my hands under his polo-shirt, I run my hands over his back as his arousal grows harder between us.
Breaking his lips away, he presses his forehead to mine. “Alexa, I want to do things with you. How do I do things? Or do I only let you do the things?”
Untying the sash, I let my robe fall to the floor. “Tell me what you want to do and I’ll let you know.” Slipping my hands under his shirt again, I work it up and over his head as he ducks low enough for me to do so. Running my hands over his toned physique, I lean in and taste his skin. He is in very good shape for someone who can’t even hold weights and things. His abs look good enough to eat and I flick my tongue through the groove between them.
“I’m sorry. What was the question?” he asks as his wide eyes watch my every move. Crouching to retrieve the condom I stowed in the pocket of my robe, I hold the little packet with my lips as I run my hands around the waistband of his trousers and drop them to the floor. Opening the condom, I look into his eyes as I roll it on.
“You were about to tell me what you’d like to do with me,” I whisper, stroking him a few times. I like that he said with me and not to me. It’s a small distinction, but it makes all the difference to me.
“I’d like to lift you up,” he says, his voice deep and husky as I press myself against him. “Higher than you need to be, and real close, so that your body runs over mine on its way back down, but not all the way down. I mean to keep you off the floor, Alexa.”
He moans as my shiver travels into him.
“That sounds very nice, Damon. If you promise not to push me up against anything, you should begin when you’re ready.”
Bending low, Damon wraps his arms around my knees, rising again real slow. Grateful for the tall ceiling, I look down at him as he gazes up at me. The look of adoration in his eyes is hard to miss, but although I’m instantly alarmed by it, I soon forget why, as he closes his eyes and lowers his head, causing his
beard to lightly graze over the skin of my stomach. “May I please touch you with my face?” he whispers, as his breath teases the very spot that his beard has set tingling.
Face?
“Yes,” I whisper back.
Pressing his forehead to my stomach, Damon stills a while, just breathing into me. Every breath he takes pulls cool air across my skin, only to warm it again with his next exhalation. Unbelievably responsive to such a subtle sensation, I begin to tremble in his arms. Looking up, I see the hunger in his eyes, but also the control. “I’ll always be gentle with you Alexa,” he whispers, pressing his lips to my belly and absorbing my quiver. “You can trust me to be gentle.”
“Because you’re a lover, not a fighter?” I whisper as he nuzzles my skin.
“And a nerd... and a clown... and a big brother...and an artist and a dreamer,” he says between soft kisses with his beard lightly scuffing me as I’m lowered at a painfully slow rate.
Pressing his face between my breasts, he kisses my chest and again, settles there for a while. Ever so softly, he grazes my skin with his bristly cheek and nuzzles my breasts, covering them in delicate kisses. His warm mouth closes over a nipple and I squirm in his grasp. The way he’s holding me has my legs locked together and there’s nowhere to find the friction I’m suddenly craving. My thighs cinch even closer together as his tongue does fantastic things to my nipple and a silent gasp escapes me.
With absolute control, Damon lowers me a little, offering just a hint of delicious friction as my body grates along his. It’s enough of a suggestion to drive me wild, with none of the fulfillment. I moan, a little from frustration, but mostly from pleasure.
“You have the softest moans I’ve ever heard,” he whispers against my skin as he works his way slowly along my collar bone and up my neck.
“You’re teasing me.”
“Are you in a rush?”
“No,” I breathe on a sigh as his arms shift slightly higher, pressing my pelvis into him more firmly, but still keeping my legs shut. There is just the slightest sense of rotation that accompanies this change in pressure and it feels good. Tilting my head back, I let him control the motion. It’s a big step for me, but I trust he won’t force himself on me and he really seems to know what he’s doing.