Page 4 of Done with You

A man wearing all black wandered onto the stage and removed the pole, then other props were dragged onto the stage. All gold, black, and red, as well as five black folding chairs.

Everyone returned to their seats, and the lights dimmed. The stage went completely dark and the crowd went silent. Five dark, shadowy figures stepped across the stage and took their places in the chairs.

Then there was a thump from the speakers, followed by another, and the lights on stage came on, revealing five beauties—with Luna in the center—all decked out in lingerie and feathers.

This was the burlesque part of the show.

Aiden’s heartbeat mimicked the thumping of the bass.

The music picked up tempo and the women started to move, giving the chair a lap dance.

Four of the five removed a few articles of clothing as the song and dance progressed, until all that covered their chests were black flower pasties, but Luna remained dressed. She kept all her clothes on. But the clothes she kept on were sexy as fuck. Black fishnets, mile-high black heels, a black and red corset with lace and bows, and a black thong that went up her ass crack to show off her taut, round cheeks. Her hair was pinned up in a glam kind of way with red and black feathers in it. She was stunning.

Her makeup was dramatic, and the jewelry on her neck and ears was sparkly as hell and probably added a couple of pounds to her fit frame, but she was breathtaking. For the second time that night, Aiden’s mouth was dry and his eyes burned from not blinking.

The way she moved on the chair—doing a handstand, then the upside-down splits, sticking her ass in the air, caressing her body in a seductive way. He was mesmerized. Transfixed.

Before he knew it, the show was over. The five women on stage held hands and bowed, while the entire crowd stood up and rattled the rafters with their applause and cheers. The crowd was made up mostly of women between the ages of twenty and sixty, but there were quite a few men in the mix, too.

“Give it up for Margo, Juanita, Cherise, Daphne, and Luna!” The way the announcer said Luna made it clear that she was the center of this show. The star performer and the reason everyone came to watch. Even if he hadn’t emphasized her name that way, Aiden wasn’t an idiot and could easily tell that Luna carried that group. But maybe she was the leader and their teacher? Everyone has to start somewhere.

He set his empty drink down on a ledge and clapped, then put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. His whistle was loud enough to pull Luna’s attention, and her heated gaze pivoted toward him.

She batted long, fake lashes at him and smiled demurely. Almost shyly.

The women bowed once more, then stood up, waved, and filed off stage.

Aiden elbowed his way through the crowd to the door, then booked it across the lobby to the bar. He needed to grab a seat before all those people at the show followed their rumbling bellies next door, and he was once again without a place to put his ass.

He grabbed a stool at the bar, which gave him a perfect view of the television overhead. The Montreal Canadiens (Les Habitants or Habs for short) were playing the Rangers and it was the second period. Habs were up by two.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asked.

“Nachos. Loaded, with extra guac and a club soda with lime,” Aiden said, settling in for a bit.

“You got it.”

He tried to focus on the hockey game overhead, and his nachos when they came, but his mind kept drifting back to Luna.

The way she moved, and the way her eyes filled with fire. But he already knew there was incomparable intelligence behind those eyes. He was exceptional at reading people, and he could see that there was a hell of a lot more to the lovely Luna Love than just plastic high heels and a lot of makeup.

With a chip hanging midair, loaded with far too much guacamole for any sane person to put on one chip, he was lost in thoughts of Luna and staring blankly ahead when the bartender’s voice broke through his fog.

“Usual?” he asked.

“Please, Pedro,” said a soft female voice.

Aiden’s chip broke and the guacamole plopped back onto his plate. He turned his head to find Luna Love, of all people, beside him at the bar. There was one empty stool between them. She had removed her makeup, put her caramel-colored hair up in a ponytail midway down the back of her head, and was dressed down in dark jeans, a gray sweater that fell off one shoulder, revealing the strap of a red bra, and black ballet flats.

She was beautiful on stage all dressed up, but holy fucking shit. Now, she was … he was speechless.

Swallowing, he cleared his throat. “Saw the show.”

She glanced at him, and her dark brows lifted. “Yeah?”

“Impressive. Not sure that I have the upper body strength to do that and I work out every damn day.”

Her smile was small, but also tired, like she’d heard that line more than once and wasn’t exactly impressed with it.

---