Page 13 of Allured
Among the different variations of ‘yes, daddy’ from the crowd, I also hear a cough so violent I’m nearly rushing off stage to help the poor guy. It seems like it was a loud enough noise that some people in surrounding booths go over to help the man. Although the commotion is close to the stage, I can’t see much detail past the blinding lights. I can barely make out the blurred shadow of a man sitting and waving the helpers away.
Is my next joke low—hanging fruit and at the expense of this guy? Oh, you fucking bet.
“Let’s get started and give that guy somethin’ to really choke on!”
A laugh leaves my lips as I throw my arm around like I’m tossing a lasso towards the front row. The movement helps meturn to the side and set up in my next position as the lights go out once again.
‘Dance the Night Away’ by Dua Lipa starts playing over the speakers.
Just as the audience starts to sing along, the stage is blasted with pink and white light, illuminating the rest of the performers behind me. For this opening number the boys and I are arranged at the front of the stage and we’ve got all the supporting acts behind us. There’s our guest aerial silk artists, our drag queens, and some of our singers already dancing to the beat and spreading throughout the stage behind us as we dance in what is basically a conga line, hands on each other’s hips as we sway to the beat.
The song continues and it’s organized chaos; dancers begin to spread out and tease our patrons with flashes of skin, the aerialists twist, wind, and own the silks with their moves, while the drag queens strut off stage and begin mixing with the crowd.
The lyrics right before the catchy chorus starts are a cue. The guys and I are set to do one of our signature moves in sync, where we fall forward, catch ourselves with our arms, and do a pushup on the way down to the floor before we thrust our hips down a few times. Yes, it’s basically us dry—humping the stage but it’s hot.
Ready to start the move, I wind up close to where I was introducing the show a few seconds ago. I fall forward to the floor and begin my move. My biceps flex as I lower my torso in a controlled manner and here comes my favorite part. Let the humping commence.
During this move, I love looking at an audience member and shooting a little wink their way. Yes, I’m a fucking tease and I know it, I own it. As soon as my legs are lowered onto the floor, I look up toward one of the front booths occupied by a large bachelorette party.
Only, I’m caught dead by sapphire eyes behind thick rimmed glasses staring back at me. So caught by surprise that I missed one of my fucking stage humps.
Holy shit, it’s him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EZEKIEL
More than a handful.
If it wasn’t for the stinging pain lingering in my throat from inhaling my lemonade, I would have believed the last five minutes were a figment of my imagination. My brain’s final flashing thoughts as the lack of oxygen terminates all bodily functions and sends me to an early grave.
Twice.Twice I’ve choked in the vicinity of Alek.
Choking was my reaction to seeing him on stage inthatoutfit. What a lovely last memory to have. He looks resplendent. Alek is a god upon his dais, his worshippers throwing bras onto the stage in offering.
The party of women I’m with have moved on from my spluttering incident and are now captivated by all the performers on the stage. While I’m fully charmed by one dancer. My eyes couldn’t wander away from him even if there was a miracle being performed on stage.
Alek.
Along with the pain in my throat, I feel a pull in my chest. Either the extent of my injuries were more than I first realized, or I am filled with so much emotion at seeing the man that it threatens to burst from my chest.
At this instance, I know I am a fool for thinking I could resist all that is Alek. No matter how hard I tried to scrub away the aching want that followed me all week, there is no escaping something of this magnitude. I have been utterly at the mercy of the man I met just a week ago.
But, I’m also confused. Why is the chef from my Aunt Harriett’s gala dancing at a burlesque club? Did I miss the announcement stating that the cooks and bartenders traded places with the dancers for the night? What is happening?
“Hey, are you okay?” Anna asks as she moves closer.
The bewilderment must be painted on my face. She takes notice of my line of vision and smirks as her eyes bounce from me to Alek.
A hand decorated in pretty white nails lands on my shoulder before I feel the breath of her words near my ear. “That’s Alek.”
Judging by said breath, my sister—in—law is well on her way to a drunken night.
“He’s the lead dancer,” Anna continues, her front pressed against my back. “Don’t blame ya for looking.” Her laugh is soft as she pats my shoulder, kisses my cheek, and sits back into her seat to join her cheering friends.
The music begins to build up and the performers scatter along the stage. Alek is dancing closer. And closer. And closer. And now he’s…falling? I have to stop myself from the instinctive jolt that drives my body forward.
It took a second but I realized that his ‘fall’ is part of his dance and he’s not in danger. He’s close enough that if I leaned over in my seat and stretched, I could reach him. The thought of doing so is too tempting for my liking.
