When she arrived in her mother’s office, Christina had removed fabric samples from her tote bag and opened her sketch book.
“Have you hired any new dancers?”
Julia scowled at her friend’s opening salvo. “No. Most of the decent ones are working at the club down the road. I talked to my mother earlier. From what she said, we’re not likely to find any at present. She’s tried everywhere.”
“I suspected as much,” Christina said. “I might have a way you can work around a staff shortage. Have you decided whether to stick with stripping or are you going to specialize in burlesque?”
“I’m not sure,” Julia said. “My mind keeps going back and forth on this. The Last Frontier has always been a strip club. It’s what the customers expect.”
“Except custom has dropped off. This is the perfect time to change things up. You’ll attract more hen’s nights if it’s burlesque. Go for it and switch to burlesque. It will be a point of difference to your competitors. You’d be targeting a different set of customers.”
Julia nodded. Christina’s summation, stated so succinctly, helped her decide. She nodded again, more categorically. “You’re right. We’ll take the burlesque path.”
“Good. That will make the costuming easier and challenging too. A suggestion. Your dancers should wear masks. It will make your dancers mysterious and will work to your advantage. Even if you can’t hire enough dancers before opening day your existing ones will look different by changing masks and costumes and wearing wigs. The audience will never realize you’ve only got four or five girls dancing because each set and costume change will make them appear different.”
A delighted laugh escaped Julia. “So simple. Yes, that’s perfect. I can dance myself if necessary.”
“If you agree to the masks, I can dance too—if I’m good enough. I wasn’t about to agree to stripping in front of everyone.”
“You’d still be stripping off a few layers,” Julia warned, touched by her friend’s offer.
“But my bare body wouldn’t be out there for everyone to see,” Christina said. “Believe me, that’s not a sight for enticing customers. The idea of the tease and seduction sounds heaps better.”
Julia grinned. “Agreed. Show me what you’ve got for costume ideas.”
They spent the next half hour discussing fabrics, fans and feathers with Christina feverishly jotting down notes.
“I can put these costumes together with no trouble,” Christina said. “It won’t cost much either.”
“Come and see what Mum has upstairs in the flat. She has an entire room of costumes. We might be able to use some of the props at least. Most of the stuff is skimpy though.”
“I might fit skimpy if I keep up with the amount of exercise I’ve done during the last couple of days.”
Julia led the way up to her mother’s flat. “We’re here to check out the costumes,” she said when they popped in on Elise and Janet.
Elise smiled, but Julia could see her mother forced it. Her pale features told of her poor night of sleep. “You know where they are.”
Julia hesitated before deciding to tell her mother of her plans. “I’ve decided to take the burlesque angle rather than straight stripping. I’m hoping the point of difference will bring in more customers—some new ones who wouldn’t have otherwise come to the club.”
Elise gave a throaty laugh of surprise. “Did you know that originally we did burlesque rather than stripping? My grandparents probably spun in their graves when my father changed things to attract the customers.”
“Then you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t. You have a good head on your shoulders. The business is in your veins after all. Check the suitcases right at the back of the wardrobe. I packed the old costumes in there a few years ago. They might smell of mothballs, but there are some wonderful outfits. They might be just what you’re looking for.”
Julia kissed her mother’s cheek. “Thanks. You try and catch more sleep. Are you still seeing the specialist later?”
“Yes. Janet is taking me.”
“Okay.” Julia smiled her thanks at Janet. “Just shout if either of you need anything.”
Julia and Christina walked into the large room. Costumes hung from freestanding racks, each outfit covered with plastic.
“Where do we start?” Christina asked.
Julia strode over to the wardrobe door, wheeling a rack out of her way to clear her path. She opened the door and pulled out two large suitcases. “These are the ones Mum meant. Can I leave you to it while I take care of stuff downstairs? I intend to have an earlier dance practice today because the painters are coming at three. Connor arranged for most of his rugby team to come and help.”
Christina opened the first suitcase and waved her away. “I’ll shout if I need you.”
The rest of the day passed rapidly. Dance practice worked well and the progress pleased Julia. The guys arrived and soon the place smelled of fresh paint. Three hours later, she stood in the middle of the club and turned slowly, surveying the walls. The midnight blue color was perfect. Excitement did a slow burn inside her stomach. For the second time today goose bumps pebbled her skin—in a good way.
There were still details to arrange, but opening day couldn’t come soon enough. Yes, there was some of the Maxwell businessman welling up inside her now.
“Man, I’m beat,” Ryan said when they caught the lift to her apartment.
“Me too,” Julia said with a yawn. “I feel as if we’re making progress though. It’s a good sensation. Do you want first shower?”
“Thanks.” Ryan took the keys from her and opened the door because she was carrying a load of costumes in plastic wrapping.
“Christina picked out some costumes for the hen’s night, and she wanted me to try them on to make sure they fit.”
“You’re dancing?”
“Yeah.” She entered the apartment in front of him. “I’ll do a dress parade for you. You can give me your expert opinion.”
In her bedroom she stripped down to her underwear and glanced at the first of the costumes. A long black dress with silver embroidery. It was reminiscent of something one of the glamour movie stars of the thirties would have worn. She’d have to lose the bra.
“Ryan, are you there?” She heard him coming and turned her back to the door while holding the bodice in place. “I need help with the zipper.”
Warm hands tugged the zip into place then settled on her bare shoulders.
“Wow,” he said as he turned her around to face him. “Are all the costumes this elegant?”
“Yes, we’re doing a Hollywood glamour theme for the hen’s night. Sort of thirtyish era.”
“Do you need music?”
“Christina and I thought we’d sort out a soundtrack of music from that era.”
“Would you like live music?”
“You’d do that?”
“Yes.” His short tone told her he was a little pissed with her for doubting him.
“You haven’t been here,” she flared defensively. “I’m not used to counting on you.”
His face clouded, a hint of pain twisting his lips. “You’re right. I’d be honored to provide live music for your first function. I can’t promise Caleb’s help. He’ll have to answer for himself, but I’m in. Will you want me to wear a costume too?”
“I’ll discuss it with Christina and we’ll come up with something for you. Can you unzip me?” She slid the dress off and reached for the next. The choked sound from Ryan stilled her hands.
“You’re beautiful.”
Julia picked up the gown—a slinky red—and held it against her. After her stripper years, nudity never worried her, but Ryan’s avid gaze roving her body felt different, her skin pulsing under his visual interest. “I didn’t think.”
“Let me help with the fastener.” His voice was lower than usual and rough in a sensual way.
“It zips up the side.” Without looking at him, she stepped into the d
ress and pulled it up over her hips. “Do you like it?”
“I thought these were costumes for strippers?”
“Some are, but Christina and I decided they’d work for me to wear while introducing each act. I’m aiming for sophistication. Do you agree?”
“You’re a knockout and your ideas are perfect.” His gaze traced the curves of her breasts, cupped and lifted in the tight bodice. In a trick of the light he appeared predatory and when he stalked around her to view the back of the gown, the similarity to a dangerous feline heightened. He settled in a casual sprawl on the bed. “Are there more?”
“Yes.” She undid the gown and stepped out of it. The next number was the one Christina had dubbed sexy ringmaster. Black and white, it was more bathing suit in coverage, leaving her legs bare. A tight black jacket completed the outfit.
“You need black boots with spiky heels and fishnet stockings with that one,” Ryan said.
Julia nodded, in full agreement after a quick glance in her full-length mirror. “Christina has a good eye for fashion. These fit perfectly. I thought you were going to have a shower.”
“And miss the show? Not likely. Besides, you might need my help again.”
A snort escaped her.
“I hope you’re not going to make that sound on stage,” he said. “You’ll send the customers running to the opposition.”
“Funny man.” Julia reached for the blue. It was almost the same color as the paint she’d chosen for the walls of the club. Gold sequins decorated the neckline and hem.
“Beautiful.” Ryan’s verdict. “You’ll need to wear your hair up.”
Julia glanced in the mirror, agreeing with his assessment. She pulled on another skimpy bathing suit number in red and black that came with a long matching skirt.
“Perfect,” Ryan said, his eyes skimming her body. A hot sensation prickled in the wake of his gaze, edgy heat making her shift her weight from foot to foot. “Come and shower with me.”
She took a few seconds to comprehend. An instinctive rebuttal sprang to mind, but that wasn’t the word that emerged. She removed the last costume. “Yes.”
Ryan rolled off the bed and extended his hand. When she took it, his fingers threaded through hers, filling her with warmth. He led her to the bathroom and turned on the shower without releasing her hand. Tugging her to him, he pressed a soft kiss on her lips. “Thank you for giving me this second chance. I won’t let you down.”
Julia nodded. She wanted him so much, needed him to drive away the loneliness and the chill that had encased her for months now.
A sense of wonder filled Ryan when she settled against him, naked, chest to chest, with warm water pouring down over their heads. It was home and every part of him rejoiced at having his wife in his arms again. He kissed her cheek and sucked at the juncture of her neck and shoulder. Touching her was like sticking his finger in a light bulb socket, or at least how he imagined that experience.
His wife.
The woman who’d spoiled him for all others.
He skimmed his hand down her back and cupped her bottom, drawing her against his straining erection. From zero to go in half a second. Her tongue darted out to lick along the tail of his dragon tatt, over one pectoral muscle before settling against his nipple. Pleasure snared him, dragging another groan to the surface. Urgency thrummed through his body now, and Julia seemed just as caught in the writhing emotions as he. He lifted her and her legs curled around his waist. Still the water poured over them. He sucked roughly on one breast, and she jerked, almost ripping out a handful of hair when he tried to reposition his mouth to her other breast.
“Ryan,” she whispered hoarsely, full of silent pleading.
Hell, he didn’t want to wait either.
Angling his body, he pressed her against the wall.
“Cold,” she muttered.
“Won’t be soon.” He gripped his cock, positioned himself at her entrance and let gravity impale her more deeply. Ryan gritted his teeth, the snug warmth of her almost doing him in. His balls pulled tight. His pulse raced, his heart threatening to beat right out of his chest as Julia’s pussy flexed around his shaft and took him inside her. “Okay?” he demanded.
“No! Wait,” she said. “Condom.”
“Shit.” He stilled, grunting as he squeezed her against the wall. It took everything in him, but he withdrew and set her on her feet, maintaining his grip on her shoulders. “Sorry. I didn’t think.” He’d presumed she was still on the Pill. She had taken them when they first married. He leaned down, then pressed his forehead against hers while catching his breath. A child was strangely appealing, but he didn’t voice his thoughts, not when Julia hadn’t seemed happy at the idea. “Turn around. Let me wash your back.”
She bit her lip and turned to present her back. He grabbed a bottle of body wash and squirted some on a bath buddy. Seconds later, his hand was covered with lather.
“I said I was sorry. There’s no need to give me the silent treatment.”
“I’m not.” She turned in his arms, a strange expression on her face. “I’m just as much to blame.” She took the buddy off him and indicated he should turn around.
Ryan turned, sighing, sorry the mood had passed. “Are you still going to let me make love to you?” He winced at his bluntness.
“I have condoms in the bedroom.”
His breath caught. “Why?”
“I bought them a few months ago when I decided I should have sex with someone to forget you.”
“Ouch.” Her words hurt, but given his lack of communication, he didn’t blame her. “And did you find a man?” She’d implied she hadn’t had sex for months, but perhaps he’d misunderstood.
“No. You done?” The defensive note told him not to push.
He washed the last of the soap away. “Yeah, I’m done.”
After toweling off, he padded to her bedroom. While he was waiting for her, he pulled back the covers, desire simmering inside him at the idea of touching her again, despite his confused feelings. From the deep recesses of his mind he pulled an image of her naked, stroking scented body butter on her legs, one at a time. He recalled the slow caress of her hands, smoothing across her skin. It was so real—a true memory. He grinned, absently fondling his cock.
“Having sex with you doesn’t mean I’m agreeing to continue our marriage,” she said abruptly as she entered the bedroom.
“What does it mean?” Ryan didn’t understand the brittle edge to her voice, the pain she was trying to hide.
“I’m scratching an itch.”
Okay. Ryan forced a smile even though a part of him died. He’d done this. Even though he hadn’t meant to—his silence had hurt her and damaged their relationship. “Fair enough. Let’s do that scratching together.” Her bitchiness was a façade. He was sure of it.
“All right.” She dropped her towel and crossed the room to the bedside cabinet. She opened the drawer and pulled out a box of condoms. An unopened box, he noted, and some of the tightness in his chest dispersed.
“Come here,” he said in a rough voice. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to approach, another level of tension easing when she came willingly enough. She wanted him. At least they had the sexual part of their marriage to help glue their relationship together. He could fix this if he loved her hard enough.
His avid gaze took in everything about her. God, she was beautiful with her trim waist and long legs. He drew her between his legs, pressing a kiss to the slight round of her belly, just below her belly button piercing. She froze, but he ignored her reaction to draw her down onto his lap. He settled his mouth on hers despite the hint of frost in her. Determined to break her reserve, he doubled his effort, sliding his tongue against hers, tangling his fingers in her hair and tasting the mint from recently brushed teeth.
A few seconds later, she moaned against his mouth—music to his ears. Her hands slid over his shoulders and suddenly she was taking part instead of letting him touch her. Her breasts squ
ashed against the wall of his chest, the eager pressure of her lips drawing a heated response from him. Yes, perfect, and he settled in to enjoy playing tag with her tongue.
They kissed, unhurried now that they were naked and near both a bed and condoms. Long, lazy kisses. Slow, seductive kisses until they were both breathing hard, and his cock was so rigid he knew he’d explode if he didn’t get inside her soon.
He shifted, tossing her on the mattress and covering her before she had time to protest.
“I need you, Julia.” He ran a finger up the soft skin of her inner thigh. He’d wait a little longer. Make this extra special for both of them. He shifted back, setting between the V of her legs to study her pussy and the narrow strip of blonde hair. So pretty. Where to start? Licking, he decided, and immediately ran his tongue from her entrance and up to her clit. Not a soft fluttery lick, but a hard, firm one that filled his mouth with her taste and stopped short of her clitoris. He lifted his head to grin up at her. “How’s that?”
“Good,” she whispered, arching her hips upward to increase the pressure. “Ryan!”
Still grinning, Ryan settled in to make her come. Not that it was an arduous task. She was swollen and trembled whenever his tongue neared her clit. He teased her for a while with slow, delicate laps, keeping her on edge but not giving her enough stimulation to topple into climax. Her juices seeped from her entrance, her spicy taste filling his mouth while pleading cries spilled from her lips.
“Oh, Ryan.” Her hands gripped his head to focus his touch.
He glanced up to find her eyes squeezed closed, her bottom lip caught between her white teeth as her lower body strained upward, pushing into his face.
“Please. Please, Ryan.”
Aware of urgency thrumming through his own veins, he continued, this time concentrating on the straining bundle of nerves. Carefully, he took the bud between his lips, stroking with a barely-there touch of his tongue. She shuddered, groaned and fought to raise her hips, forcing him into greater contact. He gave it to her. Laving back and forth. Sucking carefully.
She cried out, trembled and the tiny bud vibrated in rapid spasms. He kept his touches light now, vaguely remembering this was what she enjoyed.
Reunited Lovers (Friendship Chronicles Book 2) Page 10