Page 81 of Indigo Sky

“Yeah,” I said, my voice gruff. “Sorry. Just thinking about a friend of mine.”

“The one you met for lunch?”

I nodded, my brow pinched with thought. “Yeah. He, uh … he wanted to see me to apologize for some stuff and tell me about …” My voice trailed off as I wondered suddenly if Nate would even want me to divulge this information to anyone. I had no plans to spill his dark, gritty, traumatic secrets to anyone, but even to allude … no, it wasn’t my place, and I cleared my throat. “He just had some stuff to talk about.”

“But it went well?” She looked hopeful as she squeezed her arms tightly around me.

“It did, yeah,” I said, even as I imagined the things he hadn’t told me about regarding his mom and her boyfriend, the morbid details he was unlikely to reveal. Would I even want to know?

“Good.” Kate kissed me again before unraveling her arms from my waist to slide her hands up the front of my shirt to lie flat against my chest. “Now, I’m going to finish getting ready. You wanna come back and keep me company?”

The thought lit a match beneath my skin. “What about Crystal and Wendy?”

She held out her hand, her long, slender fingers waggling with temptation. “There aretwodressing rooms,” she said with a wink.

Well then …

I allowed her to take my hand and acted the part of a willing participant as she led me toward the hallway I’d never been down. Like entering forbidden territory, a secret garden or Eden itself, I swept my curious gaze over the space that played a stark contrast to the club it was attached to. The walls were white, and the lights above were bright, not allowing a single shadow to be cast. Nobody could sneak past that curtain unnoticed, and I knew without a doubt that had been done on purpose.

There were four doors down this hallway. One led to a bathroom meant for the girls only. Another seemed to be a closet of sorts—the door was ajar, but not open enough to get a clear view.

And then there were the dressing rooms.

I couldn’t say what the other one looked like, as the door was closed. But the one Kate pulled me into wasn’t as bright as the hallway, but just barely. It was small, only a little bigger thanone of the parking spaces in the lot outside, but it was plenty big for its purpose.

A long vanity spanned the width of one wall with large, round light bulbs bordering the mirror behind it. There were two rolling stools tucked beneath the counter, along with plastic containers full of what looked like hair supplies, maybe, or it could’ve been makeup—I couldn’t really tell you. There was a rack of costumes crammed into the space, an upholstered chair, and a full-length mirror. There was barely enough space for us both to stand, but Kate pulled me inside and closed the door behind us.

“So, this is where the magic happens, huh?” I said, surveying the room with my hands on my hips as she secured the lock.

“Revan?”

I looked over my shoulder as she turned and grabbed my arm. “Huh?”

She spun me around and pressed her palms to my cheeks as our lips made swift impact. My lungs quickly inhaled, and my heart skipped a beat, startled. I realized that every single kiss I’d shared with her had so far been a surprise.

“Stop talking,” she whispered, her lips moving against mine, her arms circling my neck.

“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered in reply, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding every part of her to every part of me.

In synchronized fashion, our mouths opened, and tongues tangled, sweeping and licking and tasting. She took a step back as I took a step forward, both of us working with one shared mind that had one goal. One step after another until her ass hit the edge of the counter. Her hands left my neck to fall between our bodies, untying her robe and letting it slip from her shoulders and arms, pooling onto the floor at our feet.

I stopped kissing her and took her hands in mine, dropping my gaze to take in the glorious sight of her bare chest. And it wasn’t that I hadn’t seen her breasts before. Hell, at this point, I was damn close to being desensitized to the idea of tits altogether. But this time was different. She wasn’t onstage. She wasn’t performing. She wasn’t doing this as a part of her job. This moment was mine. She was mine, and I raked my eye over every inch of her smooth, perfect skin with an appreciation I hoped she could feel.

“Damn, Kate,” I uttered, hoarse and awestruck. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?”

She tipped her head, and a ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. “Honestly, no, I don’t think you have.”

I opened my mouth to feed her a line, to tell her just how beautiful I thought she was, but I stopped myself. Because what the hell was so special about being told you were beautiful when you heard it all the damn time? And she did. I knew it because I’d heard it myself. Clients. The other girls. Everyone reminded her of her beauty on a regular basis.

“You’re so pretty.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Sooner or later, it had to lose its meaning. Sooner or later, the flattery dulled, and it became another routine part of the day, no different from bringing in the mail or feeding the cat.

No, I needed to set myself apart from everyone else. I needed to assure her that I wasn’t just another guy seeking her out to be a cheap thrill that would soon be forgotten. Because there was nothing cheap about Kate. She was priceless, irreplaceable. Trust me, I would know. She had consistently revisited my mind for nearly a decade.

I licked my lips and cleared my throat as I dived deep toward the core of my soul and awkwardly began to speak, hoping I didn’t sound as much like a jackass as I thought I would.

---