by Rayman Black
I wanted to press her back against the door and take her like I had in that bathroom. I didn’t even care that we were in a public hallway, subject to an accidental audience at any time. With an effort, I pushed all those thoughts away, offering her a smile and my arm. Only on her terms, remember? I reminded myself sternly.
“You look beautiful,” I said. She ducked her head, a blush staining her cheeks.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice so low I almost missed it. She glanced up at me, a small, sweet smile on her face. “You look really good, too. I’ve never seen you in a suit before.”
I looked down at myself ruefully. “Too much? I wondered if it was overkill.”
She shook her head. “Not overkill at all,” she assured me. “You look incredibly handsome, actually.”
“That much of a surprise, huh?” I asked, deadpan.
She laughed, and I felt a small glow of accomplishment. I made small and probably senseless conversation as we headed down through the lobby and out into the still, crisp night. The walk didn’t take long. It didn’t take long for her to realize where we were going, either. The sign was huge, showing a grown man in a dragon costume with an exaggerated expression of deep thought on his face. Large letters proclaimed “The Mystical Leroy.”
“A comedy show?” she asked, delight and disbelief mingled in her voice. “You brought me to a comedy show?”
I grinned. “Not just a comedy show,” I said, holding my index finger up importantly. “A comedy magic show.”
She laughed, the musical sound turning heads around us as strangers smiled at her delight. “How did you know? I’ve always wanted to go to a comedy show or a magic show, and here you are, offering both.” She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Wait a minute. Did you ask my friends about me?”
“Shamelessly,” I confirmed, putting my hand on her lower back to gently guide her forward. “I got their numbers from the guys and texted them questions about what you like and where you might want to go tonight. I wanted it to be fun for you. They were most helpful.”
She stepped closer to me as we walked, her body brushing against mine as we moved toward the door. I showed the attendant our tickets and he held the door for us as we went into the tiny venue. There were maybe a dozen tables, arranged in a U shape around a small stage at the back. An usher led us to a small table right in front of the stage and we settled in, waiting for the show to begin.
A waitress came over to take our drink order. I raised my eyebrows at Katie. “Is this a whiskey kind of night?” I asked.
She smiled and shook her head. “No, I’m still recovering from our last whiskey night.” She caught my eye and blushed again. She was so damn cute. It killed me. “White wine sounds good, though. Do you have a pinot grigio?”
Our waitress confirmed that yes, they did. I said, “Two, please,” and handed her my debit card. She nodded and turned back to the bar.
“I think something’s happening,” Katie said, nodding her head toward the stage. A thick blue curtain hung down to the floor. The bottom third had started swaying in the breeze of whatever commotion was behind it. Our waitress returned with our drinks just as the lights began to dim. Music poured out of hidden speakers, saturating the small space with the rhythmic thumping of drums. It sounded almost tribal.
Without warning, the curtain seemed to disappear. One moment it was there, and the next the stage was occupied by a thin man wearing a green and purple dragon costume. He looked out seriously at the small crowd.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” he intoned somberly. “Welcome to the show that will dazzle your mind and ensnare your senses. After an hour spent with me, you will never find yourselves the same again.”
Katie snorted quietly and slid her hand across the table to me. I closed my hand over her small one and smiled.
“I am the Mystical Leroy,” the man said, his voice nearly mournful. “Since I was a small child, I have been cursed with the ability to see things others may not see. For example, from one glance at the lights alone, I can tell which direction a car is coming.”
He paused for the surprised burst of laughter from the audience, nodding his head sagely as though we were all gasping in awe. “Yes, it is a fearsome ability, to be sure, and don’t think I don’t understand the responsibility it carries.” He paused for a long beat before adding, “No, I can’t see the lottery numbers for tonight, I’m afraid. My gifts only stretch so far.”
He talked for awhile, cracking joke after deadpan joke, riffing on his extraordinary gifts while wearing that ridiculous costume. Katie laughed with abandon, throwing her head back, her eyes sparkling.
“Now I need a brave soul from the audience to assist me,” he said, and before we knew what was happening, a bright spotlight illuminated our table. “Young lady,” he continued, holding his hand out to Katie. “Please join me on the stage.”
She looked over at me, wide-eyed. I shrugged and smiled. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” I whispered to her. She looked from the dragon-clad lunatic on the stage back to me and shook her head.
“Why not?” she said, and rose, but her smile seemed forced. A cold trickle of trepidation trickled down my back. I watched her cross the small space and mount the stage, that strange smile pasted on her face.
The Mystical Leroy bowed gravely to her. “Thank you for enlivening my show this evening,” he intoned. “What is your name?” He thrust a microphone into her hand.
She lifted it to her mouth and said, “Katie,” in a small voice that boomed back to us through the speakers.
“A beautiful name for a beautiful woman,” he said. “What brings you here this weekend?”
Katie looked over at me and winked. “Actually,” she said, her voice stronger and her smile turning mischievous. “I got married by accident yesterday, and this is my husband’s and my first date.”
The Mystical Leroy was silent for a beat. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had an accidental bride on my stage before,” he said mournfully. “Have you considered contacting the Mafia? I hear they’re able to make people disappear more effectively than even I can.”
The audience laughed. Katie waited until the waves subsided before saying, “We’ll see how the date ends before I go that route.”
The banter continued for a few more minutes, then Katie assisted in a fairly cheesy card trick that was only made bearable by the well-timed dry humor of the magician. I held my breath as he thanked her with solemn good manners and she returned to our table, but she smiled at me without shadows when she resumed her seat. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, relieved she didn’t seem upset. I wasn’t sure if she was upset by the magician’s teasing, but then again she had surprised me by acknowledging our marriage in public to begin with.
She slid her hand into mine, and we watched the rest of the show with that simple link between us. I laughed so much it made my face hurt. By the time the curtain reappeared and the lights came up, there was an ease and a camaraderie between us that hadn’t been there quite like that before. Other members of the audience sent us looks ranging from curious stares to indulgent smiles as they gathered their belongings and left. I looked at Katie.
“Are you hungry yet?” I asked her, taking her hand in mine as we left the venue. “Or is there something else you’d like to do tonight?”
She grinned at me wickedly. “Have you ever been to a strip club?” she asked.
I stared at her, waiting for her to laugh and tell me she was joking, but she seemed quite serious. “Well, yes,” I finally said, hesitant. What would she think of me now? I wondered. “But I’ve never been to a strip club with a woman before, no,” I added quickly.
She pulled out her phone. “Well, let’s see what we can find, shall we? I hear strip club food is the best.”
While she was busy asking Google for directions to the nearest titty bar, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Jeff. Cursing silently under my breath, I hit Decline and tucked
it away again. Almost immediately, it vibrated again. “Jesus, Jeff, give it a rest, will you?” I muttered under my breath, pulling my phone out once more. Instead of calling back, this time he had sent a text.
Call me back right away. It’s important.
For an instant, ice water flowed through my veins. Was something wrong at home? With our parents? But then the rational part of my brain kicked in and I put my phone away firmly. If something were wrong back home, he would have said as much, if only to ensure I would call him back. Whatever he had to say to me could wait. I needed to be here right now, with Katie.
Apparently going to a strip club.
13
Katie
“Okay,” I said, looking up from my phone. “I found one. It’s called Hustler’s Mansion, and it isn’t too far from here.” Chris was tucking his phone back into his pocket, but he looked at me with an uncertain smile.
“You sure about this?” he said, taking my hand. I smiled back with confidence. Wouldn’t a guy like Chris like going to a strip club? It seemed like a sexy, adventurous thing to do.
“Absolutely,” I said, with perhaps a bit more conviction that I felt. “It’s up here two blocks and then we take a left.” I started off and he walked with me, matching his footsteps to mine. He nudged me with his shoulder.
“I should’ve taken a picture of you up there with The Mystical Leroy,” he teased.
I laughed. “You couldn’t see it, but my hands were shaking like leaves in a storm,” I said, and then wondered why I had. It was true, but not the sort of thing I usually told people. He took it in stride, though.
“I don’t know if there are many people who’s hands wouldn’t have been shaking,” he commented. “Isn’t it true that suddenly becoming the center of attention can cause a spike in adrenaline? You’d have to have nerves of steel not to shake at least a little.”
“I bet your hands wouldn’t shake,” I said to him, letting go of his hand to tuck mine through his arm.
He shrugged off my words. “If they didn’t, it would just be because of the training,” he said, and he winked. “I’d be shaking on the inside.” We turned the corner and walked toward a growing line down the street.
“I think this is it,” I said dryly, gesturing ahead of us. The line was composed of all men, who were waiting to be vetted and allowed entry to a low, dark building with neon lights spelling out Hustler’s Mansion in scripted letters. The woman checking in the crowd wore just enough silver material and spangles to cover the important bits.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked again, as the line moved swiftly forward. Three more men lined up behind us.
I wasn’t anymore, but I felt like it was too late to back out. I lifted my chin and ignored the pinch in my belly. “Why not? It’s just for fun.”
He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. I kept my gaze ahead of us, watching men disappear inside the building. A pounding bass poured out of the darkened doors, and I could see flashes of neon light. I wondered what awaited us in there. I didn’t want to say so, but I hadn’t actually been to a strip club before. I had only ever seen them on TV.
The woman at the head of the line barely glanced at us when it was our turn. “No weapons allowed,” she said, gesturing to the two burly men behind her, just inside the building. “If you have anything, check it with them. You can get it back when you leave.”
Chris glanced at me, then at the woman. “No weapons for either of us,” he said.
She waved us in. “Have a good time.”
I looked up at Chris as we entered the building. “I imagined these places to have better light,” I said, raising my voice to be heard over the music. “Where do you want to go?”
We looked around. The room was larger than it appeared from the outside, with three separate stages complete with seating areas and a bar at the far end. There was just enough light to navigate the room, except for the stages. Those were lit artfully, casting light and shadow on the stage for the dancers to use like partners in their acts. Scantily clad women roamed the room, some carrying trays and others sitting on men’s laps. I looked around and realized that other than the employees, I appeared to be the only woman in the club.
Chris directed me to a deep booth near the closest stage. A lovely woman with large eyes and skin the color of coffee with cream moved her body fluidly to the music, somehow moving gracefully in a pair of incredibly high heels and little else. We settled into the relative privacy of the booths and looked at each other, smiling guiltily at one another.
Chris leaned down near my ear. “Is this what you expected?” he asked. “This is your first time, right?”
I looked at him in surprise. “How did you know that?” I asked. He gestured to the stage, to the men who were perched on chairs around it, as close as they could get to the woman on it without climbing up to her. Even from here I could see their eyes glazed with mindless lust.
“I haven’t met many women who enjoy this kind of thing,” he said wryly. “And you didn’t strike me as the kind of girl who would. I made an educated guess.” He narrowed his eyes speculatively, and I felt my heart rate kick up. “ But you are the kind of girl to try new things, aren’t you?”
“What’s life without a little adventure?” I said, but I felt breathless. His gaze was hot on me, his body close to mine. I leaned closer, my lips just brushing his, when his eyes opened wide and he jerked back.
“Well now, what have we here?” said a clear, honeyed voice in a Southern accent from behind me. “Usually the men who come to see me leave their ladies at home.” I turned to see a woman standing behind me, an empty tray held by her side and a smirk on her face. She was young and quite pretty, with bright blue eyes and blonde hair that likely came from a bottle. Her eyes were wary and hard, her smile sharp at the edges. She wore a tiny sailor suit, the wide collar of her top barely covering her nipples and the skirt short enough to flash glimpses of her skimpy panties when she shifted her weight. A cheap plastic name tag pinned at her breast said Rita.
I smiled up at her. “We’re celebrating.”
“That’s nice, honey. What are you celebrating? Did y'all get married?” She sounded bored and world-weary, like she was talking to a couple of kids still wet behind the ears. I was pretty sure I was older than her by at least three years.
“Well, yes,” I said, glancing back at Chris. He kept his eyes on the table, his expression warring between laughter and trepidation. I raised my eyebrow at him and turned back to Rita. “How did you know?”
She snorted. “If a woman comes in here, honey, it’s usually only one of two reasons. Either you’ve just gotten married or you’re a lesbian. And you don’t strike me as a lesbian.”
Curious, I asked, “How would you know if I was a lesbian or not?”
She shrugged, and I stared, fascinated, certain her top would burst right off her at the movement. “Can’t really,” she said. “I’ve never seen a lesbian come in here with a man before, but I guess there’s a first time for everything.” She lifted her chin toward Chris. “You want to buy your new man a ‘just married’ lap dance? I’ll throw in an extra grind or two for free.”
Chris made a sound of distress behind me, and it was all I could do to contain my amusement. “Not right now, but thanks. Could we just get a couple of whisky sours?”
Rita sighed, once again stressing the seams of her top. “Two whisky sours, coming up,” she drawled, and headed for the bar.
As soon as she had gone, I elbowed Chris. “What’s up with you?” I asked, mirth bubbling up in my voice. “You seem like you’re terrified of her.”
“I am,” he said ruefully. He risked a quick glance at me, a half smile on his lips. Then he looked back down at the table. “Or, more specifically, I’m terrified of you.”
My laughter dried up in my throat. “Terrified of me?” I asked, staring at him incredulously. “Whatever for?”
He gestured to the room beyond our booth. “This isn’t the ki
nd of place you want to take a woman who means something to you,” he said. “Not when the point is to fantasize about naked dancing women, or get blue balls from a lap dance. Why would I want to do any of that with anyone but you?” He slid his hand over my bare leg, his fingers leaving a line of fire behind them as he gently stroked my skin, pushing the hem of my dress up my thigh. I turned toward him, my body blocking any view of what he was doing to me. “And there are so very many things I want to do with you, Katie.”
I swallowed hard, my eyes on his. Everything around us faded, and the world became focused on him, his fingers trailing higher, stoking the heat inside me to an exquisite ache.
“Chris,” I breathed, my eyes closing with the pleasure. My lips parted on a sigh. I couldn’t help myself. I widened my legs for him and gasped as I felt his touch brush against the edge of my panties. I could feel his gaze on my face as his fingers dipped beneath the edge and into my wet heat. He stroked my clit slowly, almost lazily, leaning his mouth close to my ear.
“You feel like silk,” he said, his breath warm on my skin. My nipples tightened and a sudden flash of memory, his tongue flicking the tight nub before drawing it into his mouth, had me swallowing back a moan. He slid his arm around me and my head dropped forward against him. My thighs opened more and he slipped a finger inside me. “I love the sounds you make when I’m inside you. I love the way you tighten around me.” A second finger joined the first, slowly pushing in and dragging out. I fought the urge to squirm against him, forcing myself to be still, to let him do this to me. The heat inside me built and built with every movement - and then he was gone.
“Do y'all want me to open ya a tab at the bar?” Rita said, her voice getting louder as she approached our booth. I kept my eyes closed and my head forward, tucked against Chris.
“That won’t be necessary,” he said, leaning forward slightly. He sat back again and said, “You can just run it now. We’ll probably only stay for the one drink.”