Page 10 of Room One Hundred and Four: Shock and Awe

But when the lights turn off for the last time, I’m practically frothing at the mouth. This is our chance, and we won’t let it slip through our fingers.

CHAPTER 5

NAVY

Whenever I step off the stage, it feels like I’m buzzing from the inside out. I know it’s leftover adrenaline, but it’s a feeling that never gets old. It’s the entire reason that I still perform on stage, even though I don’t really need to.

Hell, I don’t even need to be working at Alora’s studio considering I have my degree now. I could try and get a job utilizing it, but I don’t think that would make me happier. I love what I do, especially when I can watch the confidence of another women grow as they dance and learn the subtle art of seduction using burlesque.

Normally, I don’t stay after a show, but Club Sin pays me a little extra to go out into the lounge and mingle. It’s kind of fun and I know I’m safe at Club Sin.

Have I been propositioned? Of course, but I’ve never felt obligated to say yes or like I’m in danger when I turn someone down. There has even been a time or two when I’ve said yes and had a very pleasurable experience.

It’s one of the reasons why I always take the gig when I’m asked to dance here. Also, the atmosphere and the décor are beautiful. The view from The Centennial building is beautiful and the soft neon in the lounge mixed with opulent elegance just does something for me.

And it doesn’t hurt being surrounded by a bunch of attractive people putting their best foot forward who look at me like I’m a goddess.

It’s certainly not something I thought would ever be a part of my life.

I always felt dowdy when I was growing up. I know, partially, that was because I was never allowed to explore my own style or dress how I wanted. The women in my church were expected to dress modestly and to never attract attention to our bodies. It was stifling and difficult to navigate, especially when I was older and in school.

I head to the bar area after pulling a pair of black slacks on which leaves the sparkly black bustier that I’m wearing exposed. I fit right in with everyone else except I’m a little shinier than the other women. It’s not a terrible thing necessarily.

I feel eyes on me the moment I step into the lounge area knowing my props will be safe until someone can help me carry them out later. I always love it when they put the pearl curtain up for me to perform with. It’s one of the many stage decorations they have, but it’s a favorite of mine.

There’s a charged energy in the room, one that I haven’t felt in Club Sin before. When I glance around, I don’t notice anything different than what I’ve seen before. Sure, some people are looking at me, but that’s nothing new.

I shake off the feeling as I lean against the bar and smile at the bartender who comes my way immediately with my drink. I don’t perform here often, but they take damn good care of me when I do.

“Your performance was beautiful. You light up the stage,” the smooth male voice coming from beside me has me glancing over and I freeze.

Holy shit.

I’m pretty sure everyone in the world knows the man standing next to me. I blink a few times while trying to reconcile the fact that Langston Phillips, rock star and brooding bad boy extraordinaire is not only standing next to me in Club Sin but is talking to me.

No fucking way.

As surprise starts to ebb away, because of course a rock star like Langston would be in an upscale sex club, a wave of sadness washes over me. The story of how his bandmate and best friend passed away was huge news. There was a lot of speculation around his death, especially considering how much the pair partied before it happened.

Some people thought Langston would slow down in response. From what the gossip channels have reported, that hasn’t happened.

“Th-thank you,” I stutter out awkwardly.

The smile he flashes at me is one that earns him panties being thrown onto the stage. But there’s something a little false about it—like he uses it to hide who he really is and what he truly feels.

It must be lonely at the top.

Does anyone really care about this man? He’s lost so much recently, including his record contract because he went off the rails a little bit. I suppose that’s a business thing, but what about the person behind the music?

“You’re welcome,” he drawls.

His voice is sexy and there’s a certain amount of charisma oozing from him, but for some reason my mind strays to the three bikers in the front row of the birthday party I danced at a few weeks ago. It doesn’t make any sense.

I don’t even know the names of those men and I sure as hell didn’t talk to them. Still, I wonder what their voices sound like.

I shake off the memories of the way their eyes bored into me. I probably won’t ever see them again anyway.

I lean toward Langston slightly as I lower my voice, “I’m trying very hard not to embarrass myself by becoming a fan girl right now. I love your music,” I gush.

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