Smiling at his ingenuity, I was almost jubilant when he suddenly grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. My heart thudded in my chest, my eyes wide with shock. Josh smiled the type of smile you would see on a cartoon snake, reassuring but sly with a touch of malevolence. His eyes seared with pleasant danger, his big white teeth gleaming with satisfaction — they were the perfect props.
As I was about to protest his grip on my head, his soft lips brushed my ear and he whispered, “When I move in front of you, put your arms around my neck, okay?”
I nodded once.
Josh let go of my hair, pivoted to straddle my lap, and then proceeded to gyrate my chest before coaxing my arms to rest on his shoulders. I realised in that moment what he planned to do next. It was also the reason I’d worn the particular dress I was wearing.
Placing his hands at my lower back, Josh attempted to lift me, but my tight-fitting dress prevented my legs from opening and wrapping around his waist. He hesitated the lift then growled in frustration before pushing my skirt up my thighs and picking me up anyway.
A cool breeze skated across the skin of my arse, and I wiggled profusely to free myself from his hold. “That’s enough,” I barked. “Put me down.”
Dex cut the music, and Josh helped me to stand.
I wrenched my skirt back down my legs and glared at him. “You can’t do that, Josh.”
“Do what?”
“Expose a woman like that.”
“Like what?”
“You pulled my skirt up and exposed my arse.”
“So? I’m exposed nearly every second I’m up here. What’s the problem?”
“You’resupposed to be exposed. I payyouto be exposed. Your audience pays to see you exposed, not to expose them.” Huffing, I righted my skirt then took my seat. “I wore this dress on purpose. It was supposed to stop you from attempting the lift-and-carry move. It was supposed to force quick thinking and compromise in an unplanned situation.”
“I did compromise.”
“No, you didn’t. What you did was expose your customer and make her feel violated.”
His cheeks turned pale. “You felt violated?”
I avoided eye contact. “No. It’s only underwear—”
“Then how do you know the customer will feel violated?”
“That’s my point, Josh. I don’t know, and neither do you. So don’t risk it. We want our customers to have the time of their lives when they attend Wild Nights. We want them to feel safe and relaxed in a sexually-charged, high-intensity environment.”
“Fine. I get it.” He shrugged and went to leave the stage.
“Oh, and that hair pull … rethink your approach. I’m not saying ditch it. It’s bad, a little dangerous, and can be quite sexy. A lot of women will feel exhilarated by it. But be careful. Your grip was almost painful. Plus, you never know a person’s trigger for terror. Maybe get permission before you do it, like how you warned me to put my hands around your neck.”
“Sure.” He shrugged again. “I can do that.”
“Good. Your solo is great, Josh. You have a firm grasp of the character you’re portraying on stage. Just don’t get too lost in the act, okay?”
He jumped off the stage and joined the rest of the crew.
“Who’s next?” I asked as I combed my fingers through my hair and flicked it back in place.
“Helena,” Matt said, stepping forward. “With all due respect, you’re treating us like we’re in training.”
“As far as I’m concerned, you’realwaysin training. The day you think you’ve nailed this gig, is the day you should retire.”
He ran his hand over his head.
“That’s not to say you aren’t all very good at what you do. Clearly, you are. But nothing or no one is perfect. There are always areas that can be polished and improved.”