Ah, so I’d rattled her. She was feeling the aftereffects of my lovemaking and the frustration at not being brought to orgasm.
She guided me to sit back on the desk so she could fix my makeup. Well, it was good for her. It would make her want me more, and I certainly wanted her more now than I ever had.
Fucking right. My fantasy of making love with Melanie Kirtright was going to come true.
Tonight.
Chapter Three
Melanie: Contest of Seduction
“What are you two doing here?” I gawked at Kaydee and Savanah as my heels skidded to a halt on the wood floor. They stood about three-deep in the crowd right near the path Leslee and I took to get to the stage stairs.
I instantly regretted my decision to be her partner, but how could I not after that prick Charles had treated Leslee so badly? Still, I wouldn’t have agreed to it if I’d known they were going to be here. Too late. We were up next and the last to perform, but I swear I’d be the first to puke. My stomach was already churning with nerves, and that was before I’d caught sight of my stepmom and Kaydee. Now I could swear I was just going to flat-out die of a panic attack.
Savanah, whom I barely knew—she’d met and married my late dad well after I’d gone off to college—and Kaydee were going to watch me dirty dance with a woman?
A lesbian just like them?
What would they think? Would they raise their brows in silent judgment and call me a hypocrite? Or would they accuse me of being a lesbian too?
I thought of what had just taken place in Leslee’s office. I clenched my legs together at the heart-pounding memory of it. A flood of heat spilled between my legs, reminding me how I’d liked it. No, I’d loved it. It had been pure excitement, a seduction like I’d never experienced in my entire life, not with Will, not with boring Tom, not with anyone.
Crap. Was I a lesbian too, just like them, just like all these people surrounding me?
I glanced around at the crowd of mixed women, a rainbow of butches and femmes and everything in between. The patrons cheered at the current couple on stage in the midst of a BDSM skit where the Dom play-whipped “his” slave with a leather crop and the sub responded with complete abandon and apparent arousal.
Kaydee looked me up and down, then back at the stage. She wore faded Levi’s, and despite the cold, a black tank. The fresh-cut ends of her dark hair rested on fit shoulders. She stood behind Savanah, her arms wrapped around her lover like a vise. “What are we doing here? Um, I think we should be asking you that question, chickee.”
“Melanie!” Savanah untangled herself from Kaydee’s embrace and threw her arms around me. “It’s so good to see you, honey. But what are you doing here?”
I caught a whiff of Savanah’s expensive perfume and my face became engulfed in the blonde cloud of her long hair. Even in this weather she wore a denim miniskirt and a wisp of a top that revealed a deep cleavage. Thigh-high black leather boots adorned her long legs. But knowing her, she probably had a long, expensive fur in the coat-check room.
I bit my tongue at first, embarrassed by what I was about to admit. Then Kaydee gave me this spill-it look that had me doing just that. “I’m helping Leslee out. She needed a¼a partner in the contest.”
“You’re going up on stage with her?” Savanah’s voice rose in a higher pitch than her usual girlie tone. Her skin was salon-tanned, her eyes bright blue and her makeup perfect. She was the kind of woman no one could ignore, the one who stood out in a crowd even when she scaled things down, kind of like the Pamela Anderson type or something. Hmm. Maybe she should have done Leslee’s face instead of me?
Leslee finally spoke up. She shrugged. “I talked her into it. Poor thing, here she was headed out on a date and I begged her to detour here and help me out. So how’s business, Savanah?”
Something nagged at me about “date” but I homed in on her apparent familiarity with Savanah’s real estate company.
“You know her?” I asked, looking back and forth between Savanah and Leslee.
Savanah laughed that husky laugh of hers. “I was just going to ask Leslee how she knew you. But yes, I met Leslee through her ex, Charles. I used to be his exclusive broker—until I found out his anti-gay agenda. Dropped that asshole from my client list like a hot coal from a fire.”
“Melanie and I work together,” Leslee explained.
“Right, you ‘work’ together, and now you’re going to dance together,” Kaydee said in her usual blunt manner. She added a wink in an attempt to soften the blow. Her olive-green eyes danced with mischief, as if she already knew the sin I’d just committed in Leslee’s office.
Mortified, all I could come up with was to stick my tongue out at her. I wasn’t like her, I wasn’t. I was just curious, and that was totally different than living the lifestyle she did. “I’m doing a coworker a favor, and on top of that, I’m—”
“Give it up for Trudy and Val,” the emcee announced over the speaker. “Next up we have the co-owner of Pussycat’s, Leslee Truman, and her partner in crime, Melanie No-last-name.”
The crowd went nuts. Cheers and whistles rang out. They chanted, “Go, go, go!” and hands shoved us toward the stage stairs.
I blew out a breath as the nerves snapped off like popcorn in my belly. “Oh god.” I swallowed a lump of dread and wondered how it was that my night had started off mundane, only to do a swift one-eighty into the unknown.
“Ready?” Leslee asked, holding her hand out.
I looked down at her offered hand of support, then up at Kaydee. She bit her lip and glanced away, the bitch, as if to say, “Don’t look at me, I can’t help you. Remember? I’m the one who knows your homophobe tendencies and hypocritical personality.”
I inhaled, let it out. The music pounded and the DJ introduced us over the radio waves while the crowd chanted. I set my hand in Leslee’s. Soft warmth filled my palm as she threaded her fingers through mine and curled them tightly around my trembling hand.
She leaned close and whispered in my ear. I caught the aroma of her perfume entwined with my own sex scent on her breath. My clit throbbed and I imagined those lips on my pussy, kissing, licking, devouring. “Each skit is only allowed to be two minutes long, so it’ll be over before you know it. You’ll do fine. Me?” She chuckled and snorted. “I’m the one who can’t dance. I feel like a fish out of water in this stupid dress.”
“No, Leslee, you’ll do fine. I’ll see to it.” She’d revealed her own insecurities to me at a crucial time, which gave me a surge of determination and bravery. I scanned her body from stilettoes to full, round breasts bulging against the tight white dress. She looked fabulous, sexy, even girlie. Something about the way she appeared now gave me the urge to kiss her, to hold her and soothe her and take control. “And you look beautiful, by the way.”
Her smile faded. She caught my gaze in a snare of emotion. “Really? You think so?”
Kaydee threw her arm around Savanah’s bare shoulder and stuck her fingers in a C into her mouth. Her shrill whistles rang out. She stopped the annoying noise only long enough to shout, “Get ready, gals. Hot lipstick chicks on the way.”
I ignored her and focused on Leslee. Her eyes were tormented pools of fear and stress brought on by that son of a bitch Charles. I caught a glimpse of him over by the bar standing there with his Armani-clad arms crossed, his lip curled in derision.
What a prick.
We’d show him. We’d make this place so popular, he’d never be able to sell it.
“I know so. I’m the one who put you all together.” I grinned at her, suddenly proud of my work on her face and body, and of the fact that I would be helping my boss to shake a fist and fly the finger at her asshole ex.
She glanced down at herself then back up at me. “If you say so.”
“I do. Now let’s get this show on the road to ‘over’.”
She nodded and pulled me through the cheering crowd. We took the stairs slowly, seductively. We’d ordered a vaudeville-type song to
be played with our skit. Its vavoom beat started up, and when we reached center stage, I took Leslee in my arms just as I’d showed her in the office.
“That’s it,” I whispered in her ear. “Just follow me. Swing your hips in time with mine.”
The crowd screamed their approval. The DJ made a few snarky comments about hot lipstick lesbians and sex.
I ran my hands down her arms and threaded our fingers together at our sides. We swayed. I gazed into her painted eyes, at first for the crowd’s benefit but then I became mesmerized. I couldn’t look away. The mascara and coal eyeliner emphasized the gleam of passion blooming in her eyes with each brush of our bodies and every second that ticked by. Our pussies pressed together as we moved and her lipstick-painted mouth fell open, making an O of surprised desire.
The bar patrons screamed, whistled and cheered louder, so we were able to shout at each other without being heard. Her eyes crossed briefly before she called out, “You tasted so delicious, Melanie. Looked so perfect.”
Her words sent a fire racing through my bloodstream straight to my cunt. We turned as I’d showed her earlier, our hands entwined again, so that we were now back-to-back. Her bottom warmed and brushed mine as she shifted her hips in time with me.
I turned my head away from the crowd so that I could converse in a full shout over our shoulders. “I must admit, it turned me on. You have a very talented tongue.” And I can’t believe I’m talking like this.
We pressed our backs together to support one another and did a rocking motion as we lowered our asses in unison closer to the stage. The crowd roared in approval.
“That was only the beginning of what I can show you. Will you let me finish what I started?”
My heart fluttered and my groin quickened at the possibility of having her tongue doing those wicked things to me again. I’d been right at the door to climax when Billy had knocked and interrupted the magic. So why not let her finish? It wouldn’t mean anything, just that I needed relief—right?
As if she’d read my mind, Leslee chuckled and added, “I promise I won’t turn you into a lesbian.”
We came back up in a perfectly mirrored choreography. I turned and took her in my arms again and we bumped our pelvises together, mimicking fucking, in time with the bang-bang-bang musical beat. She spread her legs. I wiggled my way in between them and bent her backward over my arm just as planned. Her pussy lips rubbed over mine through the thin fabric while her wig brushed the floor with a seductive swish. I hunched over her and cupped her jaw, then slipped a finger between her teeth. Her red-painted lips puckered as she sucked my finger into her mouth, past her teeth and tongue to her throat. The crowd squealed in delight while I enjoyed the tingle her sucking sent down my arm to my breasts and pussy.
I thought I heard Kaydee shouting her approval, but quickly turned my attention back to Leslee. Her eyes were closed as she suckled and licked at my finger, as if she were giving it a blowjob. A stronger sexual burn sizzled through my blood and made my nipples harden into pebbles that tented the bodice of my dress. Apparently it was obvious because I saw some butch woman lick her lips and hold her fingers up to her flat breasts and point outward, imitating taut nipples.
I pulled my finger from Leslee’s mouth and raked my hand down her smooth neck, over her collarbone, then grazed her tight nipple with my palm before cupping the full flesh. It fascinated me. The rest of the bar—the cheers, the DJ’s comments—all seemed to fade into nothingness as I held the breast of my first female lover. My loins pounded with need. I ground my pussy harder against Leslee’s. She moaned and her eyes fluttered open. I leaned closer, still holding her in a dip, and kissed her earlobe. She shivered.
“You didn’t answer me,” I heard her say in a sweet tone of utter desire. “Will you let me finish what I started?”
Mmmm, yes. I studied the slope of her neck and ran my tongue down the silky flesh. She tasted salty and soapy. My mouth watered. I had this sudden urge to close my mouth over hers, lipstick-to-lipstick, tongue-to-tongue.
The spongy flesh of her breast filled my hand while my finger and thumb found her hardness. I pinched her nipple and she gasped. I ran kisses up her neck, along her jaw, until I reached her mouth. Our eyes met. I couldn’t break the spell if I wanted to. She looked stunning in my arms, so beautiful, not even a smidgen of the unisex version of Leslee who had met me at the door when I’d arrived.
I wanted her. I knew that now. Especially after that incident in her office, and even more so now in the seconds before the kiss.
“Yes,” I whispered against her mouth. “Yes, I want you to finish what you started. And I want to finish what I’m starting now.”
My mouth closed over hers and we sighed together. Her lips were full and yielding against mine, her tongue warm, wet and hesitant. Her arms twined around my neck. She tasted like me, of my own juices that had remained on her tongue after eating me out earlier. I liked the taste, creamy, almost tinted with brine. Totally delicious.
I lifted her back to a standing position, never breaking the seal of the kiss, and walked her backward to the rear stage wall. I slammed her a little too hard into the surface, but her kiss became hungrier following the brief jolt, so I knew the aggression turned her on. She clutched at me, drinking of my mouth, kissing me like I’d never been kissed before. It fueled me to grab her arms and pin them above her head while I danced wildly to the music and rubbed my gyrating body over hers in a promise of what would come soon between us.
Then something drove me to the depths of insanity. I let go of her hands, delighting in the feel of them now resting on my shoulders, and planted my heels apart so that I could thrust my pelvis between her legs. I hoisted her up so that she leaned against the wall with her legs now wrapped around my waist. Her dress hiked up so that I could barely glimpse her pussy in the small space between our bodies. It was shaven except for a narrow landing strip. My mouth watered and I wondered what she would taste like, and if I would like it as much as she had seemed to enjoy tasting me. I heard the crowd go wild somewhere off in the distance, but my main focus was on Leslee and on getting to her breast, to her pussy.
I had my arms under her ass now, holding her up as my own ass shook for the crowd and my knees dug into the wall for support. I bit and nipped my way down her neck until I reached the upper swell of her right boob. I licked her hard nipple through the fabric, and glanced up at her as I did so. Her face contorted in that same glazed, blissful look just like the women in the girl-on-girl porno movies I’d secretly been watching since walking in on Kaydee and Savanah last summer. I dragged the fabric aside with my teeth until I could close my lips over the hard nub. At the same time, I found her wetness with my probing fingers as I continued to shake my ass for the now-screaming crowd.
Leslee gazed down at me while I circled her nipple with my tongue and sank a finger into her tight pussy. She moaned and thrashed between me and the wall. Panic suddenly filled her eyes.
“Melanie.”
I lifted my head and kissed her mouth again. God, I wanted her. Wanted nothing more than to devour her all night long.
“What?” I asked against her mouth as I finger-fucked her harder, faster.
“Y-you can’t do this. Not here, not now. You have to stop.”
“Why?” I dropped to my knees and dragged her down with me. I pushed her back so that she lay on the stage. My pussy was an absolute inferno, so I climbed on top of her, straddling her while I lay over her and rubbed my cunt against hers. I needed to put the fire out, had to, but I also wanted to make it hotter, get more and more and more and¼
Leslee’s hands pushed against my shoulders. “Melanie.”
Something about the tone of her voice made it seem as if she’d tossed a bucket of freezing water on me. I blinked. The music stopped. The entire crowd stood in a collective drool. I caught a glimpse of Savanah and Kaydee standing there with their jaws hanging open.
Oh my god.
Oh. My. God.
I jumped u
p and wiggled my skirt back down into its rightful place. My gaze caught sight of the DJ, who said to the entire city over the radio waves, “Whoa, we definitely have us a winner here at Pussycat’s. If you’re out there on the town and not here, you’re missing it. That was the hottest contest entry I’ve ever seen.”
The crowd started a slow clap that escalated into whoops and cheers and “Win-ner, win-ner, win-ner!”
My face flushed hot beneath the stage lights. I looked down at Leslee and sudden horror filled my soul as she held her hands over her face while still lying on the floor in a ravished heap.
I knelt and helped her to a sitting position. “Leslee. Oh damn it, Leslee, I’m so sorry. I-I-I didn’t mean to go that far. I-I didn’t mean to humiliate you like that, and in your own place of business, at that. Oh my freaking gawd.” I buried my face in my hands. Humiliation didn’t even begin to describe how I felt. I longed to run from the stage, from Louisville, from the entire country, and just bury myself forever in a deep, dark hole.
Thank goodness it had only been on the radio and not on TV.
That earlier reggae song started to play again on the overhead speakers. “Hot sex on the beach, yeah mon, lick ’er juicy peach…hot sex on the beach, yeah mon, eat ’er juicy peach…”
“No, no.” Leslee pulled my hands away from my face. She was smiling. And she was clearly still turned-on. “It’s okay. Really. I think I’d just prefer to do the rest of what you started in private. Wouldn’t you?”
I looked around. The patrons danced to the music, raised their drinks in celebration and chanted along with the song. But before I could answer Leslee’s obvious invite, Charles, that ass, pushed his way through the crowd and stopped at the side of the stage near the stairs.
He sneered, his upper lip curled in a crooked slant. “Well, well. Even better than I’d imagined. As long as business picks up over this, you’ve got yourself some more time with Pussycat’s, Leslee, and Bards Holdings can be, well, held off a bit longer.”
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