Page 12 of Allured
“Oh shoot, ‘m sorry!” A woman in a cowboy hat, glittery bikini top, and not much else removes her feather boa from Tati’s face and begins plucking away loose feathers caught in my charge’s hair.
This is a very messy, but still very welcome distraction. I didn’t want to damper the night with talk of my circumstances.
“My, my. Well, this has got to be the most gorgeous audience I haveeverseen!” An enthralling voice suddenly booms out of the speakers. A soundbooth off to the left of the stage is lit up as a man in a sparkling blue dinner coat and matching ascot speaks.
“Fifteen minutes and the dancers will beallyours! Just let them finish getting those muscles nice and shiny for you!”
The screams and cheers from the audience are almost deafening and I cannot contain the smile on my face. Being around this type of energy is not usual for me but the energy is winning me over in being open to these kinds of experiences.
“Okay, now that I’m not looking like a fabulous chicken, let’s go get those drinks real quick!” Tati continues the energy, talking eagerly about how she saw another burlesque show on a trip not too long ago.
Thankfully, the bartenders are both friendly and efficient as they fulfill our order ofmanydrinks. And right as we begin to traverse our way through the audience, the lights above us start to dim in warning. The show will be beginning any second.
“One and all, welcome to the Garden of Eden, the original sin.”
CHAPTER TEN
ALEK
Something to choke on.
Seb’s voice is loud over the speaker system, though I’m sure my flamboyant friend could be heard from his booth fine without a mic. While he finishes off the spiel about audience participation and introduces the brides and grooms—to—be, me and the guys are doing some last minute checks in the wings of the stage.
“Ah shit, I ripped my damn pants.” Benny attempts to whisper somewhere behind me.
“Bitch you’re gonna fucking yank them off in a few minutes, I think you’ll be fine,” Dean emphasizes.
“Yeah— just give ‘em a little peek!” Andre whisper—shouts.
“Serves you right, lugging that fat ass around everywhere,” Laz sasses.
The guys are horrible at whispering so I’m glad Seb’s voice demands all the attention of the audience right now. Also, I can’t be mad when it’s these fools’ banter that gets us energized for a great show.
It’s a Thursday before a long holiday weekend for most, but today’s the start of our hectic work week. After having a drink and an almost crying sesh with Emma earlier this afternoon, I’m feeling a little better about this whole Ezekiel situation.
If he’s not interested, I can’t do anything about it. If I’mtoointerested the only thing I can do is get over it. Sure, it was the first time I’ve felt such an instantaneous connection with someone, but what good does that do if he doesn’t feel the same way? It kills me that I was possibly wrong about him being attracted to me and a tiny part of me is still holding onto hope that he is.
“Without further ado—” Seb’s voice takes me out of my thoughts right in time for my opening speech.
“Please welcome our main attraction, and the reason you’re leaving hot and bothered tonight, The Bad Boys of Burlesque.”
A quick blackout is our cue to head onstage. To the audience it looks pitch black on here but we’ve got hidden little markers on the stage floor to set up our formation. Good thing too because some of these bitches are clumsy.
Double checking the mic taped on the side of my face, I set up near the edge of the stage, arms in front of me, one hand over the other clasped over the v—shape of my hips and one of my legs is kicked out casually. The pose makes my abs even more visible in my plain white crop top. To be honest, one of the reasons I love Bach Night is because I get to wear a cotton tee, some cowboy boots, and fairly comfortable jeans. A man can only wear thongs so many days of the week without suffering the consequences.
Chafing thoughts aside, the spotlight turns on and illuminates me in a bright white—pink.
The rush of seeing the inviting shadows of the audience is something I’ll never get over. They’re screaming and jumping as I toss a teasing smirk over to Seb in the sound booth.
“Now, Seb.” My voice drops just a bit, in a faux chastising tone I typically only use on stage and in the bedroom. I plant one hand on my hip while I shake my finger at him with the other. “I think you forgot one of the most important rules.”
“My, my, Alek, now what would that be?” I can barely make out his silhouette through the hazy glow of the stage lights but I know he’s glancing at the audience and making some kind of gesture or cheeky face at them. They eat it up, a chorus of ‘ooh’ filling up my ears.
My eyes drift back to the crowd. My arms cross over one another on my chest, purposely placed so that my muscles strain over the fabric of my white tee.
“The dancers may invite you toplay,but you need to be a good little audience member and follow their rules.” I begin, a raised eyebrow accompanies my smirk as I scan the silhouette of the crowd.
“Is this show fun? Sure. Frisky? Hell yeah. But it’s nothing without mutual respect. If I’m understood, I need you to sayyes, daddy.”
