“I’ve got the sound system remote. What are you thinking?”
I should have prepared for this. But I think through the best songs from class. “Unholy,” I tell him.
“Let me find it.”
There’s a pause as he searches. My eyes adjust more, and I can make him out in his chair, the shadows throughout the bar adjusting as he shifts, casting darkness behind him.
Then the song begins. The only other time I’ve had a moment like this was on the stage at the strip club for my audition. What a crazy thing to have tried. I wasn’t ready.
And now that I’m doing this for him, I realize I don’t have to put on a show, not for an entire room.
Just Merrick.
It was always about Merrick.
I wish I had some heels, but I glide out in bare feet. I circle the pole with some basic moves to get me started.
Then, I pirouette into a climb, and I’m up. I’ve never danced this close to naked. My skin is hot against the cool metal. I don’t have time to look at him, trying to think ahead and move from one pose to the next. I use the transitions I learned and then run through everything I know.
The music flows around me. I become one with the pole, the floor, the air. I sense the difference in temperature low near the stage and up high.
I wish I could watch him watch me. I would kill to see his face, to notice if his fingers twitch.
There is no fatigue in this moment, only the adrenaline of being almost naked in his bar, his eyes on me, my body turning around the pole. I close my eyes and lose myself in the sounds, the feel of the metal in my grip, the air rushing by when I spin.
Then the music winds down. I do a Diamond to the floor like Terra taught me and lie there on my side, my arm extended.
I can’t see past the brightness of the stage. I don’t know where he is.
I breathe in and out, feeling the effort now that it’s over.
Then, a hand slides along my calf.
My heart slams in my chest. He’s on stage with me.
His fingers trail up my leg to my knee.
Fire follows his touch. I stare out into the dark bar, afraid this is a dream, that he’s still out there, and I’m alone.
He reaches my thigh and pushes on it to get me to shift to my back. Now I know I’m not dreaming. He’s here.
I can’t look directly up at him. The light is too bright. He’s like the sun, shining down on me.
“That was gorgeous,” he says. “You’re fucking gorgeous.” His head tilts, and I can make out his nose and mouth in the halo of light. “I’m going to touch you. I’m going to make you come on this stage. Is that all right?”
I nod, not able to find my voice.
He kneels over me, his hands caressing my body. My waist, my belly, the skin over my ribs.
“I could touch you all day,” he says. “I will never get enough of your skin.”
He bends down to kiss me and blocks the fierceness of the light. I tilt my chin up to meet him.
He takes his time, his mouth lingering over mine, then slides my lips apart with his tongue.
His hands keep moving, taking in my hips and trailing down my thighs.
Then he inches them apart.
