When the song ended, the room erupted in applause. Max—Madonna?—bowed dramatically, blowing kisses to men who screamed out their adoration. Before he'd even cleared the stage, I was off my stool and on my way back to meet him. I couldn't explain the bitter jealousy I felt knowing other guys in the audience were lusting after him, but now I owed my brother an apology. I totally understood why he bristled when he noticed my appreciation of his man.
Which brought us to yet another problem. Max wasn't mine. We'd agreed it was for the best if we didn't fuck up our friendship by coupling up which was why we just fucked. Never spent the night in bed together. Didn't contemplate a future. Eventually, one or both of us would find someone who'd put up with our antics, and we'd go back to being nothing more than friends. Now, if only my stupid brain could get the memo.
Chapter Two
Max
By the timeI took the stage, my nerves were shot. I thought I was doing a pretty good job hiding my anxiety, but deep down, I'd have given anything to kick off the precariously high heels I'd been conned into wearing, hike up my skirts, and run the hell out the back door before anyone could catch me. But I was a man of my word. As Eli rambled his way through my introduction, I closed my eyes and shook out my hands, trying to vanquish my nerves. All I had to do was get through the next few minutes then I'd be in the clear.
The crowd erupted in applause as soon as I took the first teetering step onto the stage and the opening chords of Madonna's "Like a Virgin" filled the room. I swallowed hard as I ran through the list of tips that had been thrown at me in the few weeks I'd been preparing for tonight's performance.
It didn't take long for me to find Tony at a table just to the left of the stage. I tried to block out everything and everyone else in the room, giving him my full attention. If I pretended like this performance was only for him, then I might be able to get through it. Judging by the look on Tony's face, the guys who helped me with my makeup had done a damn good job and I wasn't totally botching the song. Before I knew it, the song ended, and the crowd erupted once again in applause. I took a final bow before turning to exit the stage, nearly folding my ankle in half then recovering at the last second.
I'd balked when Eli approached me, begging me to step in for tonight's show. I'd argued that no one wanted to see me dressed as a woman, I could never pull it off. I'd been proven wrong in a big way. There was an added spring in my step as I walked back to the dressing room, the cheers of the audience fading behind me. Now, I had to change and go mingle. That would be the real test.
My traitorous heart flipped when I noticed Tony leaning against the wall just beyond the storage room we'd transformed into a dressing room for the evening. He gave me a slow, down-up look, licking his lips. He didn't even try to be discreet when he adjusted himself. My eyes honed in on the bulge in his jeans, creating a very uncomfortable situation for me. I'd argued I didn't need to tuck since both of my outfits for tonight had skirts that would hide my junk, but the more experienced performers insisted it was part of the experience. Plus, no one wanted their Madonna fantasy ruined by an erection tenting the front of my skirt. I'd agreed at the time. I was an idiot.
"Fuck, the things I want to do to you," Tony muttered as I stepped up in front of him. I playfully dragged a nail down the center of his chest before cupping his package. He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. "You keep it up, and I'm not responsible for what happens to your dress, Max."
"Mmmm, I like the sound of that." The dressing room door opened, and Cher stepped out. Time wasn't the only thing she'd be turning back tonight. I couldn't help but gape at her. Even though I now knew the secrets to creating the illusion of a woman's body, it was mesmerizing to see the guy who'd walked into the dressing room with a tote of supplies and what I'd call a boyish figure come out looking like that.
"Hey, eyes here," Tony scolded me, gripping my chin to bring my attention back to him. That was new. In the almost two years we'd been friends and the year since we'd started fucking, he'd never shown a trace of jealousy. I was far more likely to get pissy when his gaze wandered. I chuckled when Tony glanced over his shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath. "That's fucking hot."
"Yeah. Now you see why I was looking." I shoved my hands into the back pockets of Tony's jeans, grinding against him. As curious as I was about this sudden show of possessiveness, I didn't want to ruin the spell. Plus, I really did need to get out there and mingle before Eli hunted me down. "I have to go out front, but if you wait around, maybe I'll give you an encore performance later tonight."
"You're going to leave me this way?" Tony curled his fingers around my wrist and guided my hand back to his cock.
"Honey, as much as I'd love to blow you right now, I spent far too much time in the makeup chair to ruin it now. Believe me, you're not the only who's going to suffer," I reassured him. "If it makes you feel better, I promise the wait will pay off once we get back to your place."
It may have been presumptuous to invite myself over to the apartment, but if I didn't go there, I'd have to figure out how to get all this gunk off my face in the bathroom at the bar because there was no way my roommate would understand. The guy was one crude comment away from being the poster boy for toxic masculinity. He'd been cool enough at first, but once he'd found out I was gay, everything had changed.
"Do you... Would you... " Stammering Tony was adorable. He huffed, and I caught a whiff of the alcohol on his breath. That explained a lot. He dragged a hand down his face and shook his head. Tipsy Tony was cute. Too cute. Dangerously cute. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and tell him to take a breath and try again, but I knew that would piss him off. "Look, I know it goes against the rules and all, but I was thinking...maybe you'd want to stay tonight. I know your place stresses you out sometimes."
"Is that all this is about?" Eli appeared at the end of the hall and cleared his throat. I held up a finger to let him know I'd be out soon. "Because if it is, I appreciate the offer, but I'll be fine."
"Fuck. No. It's not like that." He backpedaled. "I don't know what I'm saying. Jordan made me a couple drinks, and they were strong as fuck. Shit. That sounds even worse. It's not the booze or pity. I just... I thought maybe you'd wanna stay for a change."
"You sure about that?" I asked, not wanting any regrets tomorrow morning. Tony had been the one who was adamant about no sleepovers. The few nights we'd come back drunk enough I couldn't drive home, I'd always crashed out on the couch.
"Yeah." Tony's fingers got tangled in my teased blonde wig. I didn't want to get turned on by his reaction to me in drag, but I couldn't help it. The way he looked at me, it was as if he was trying to decide where to start unwrapping me.
Personally, I'd like him to start below the waist, not even because I wanted to get off, but because I wanted to get out of the damn gaff holding my junk in place. I'd drawn a hard line when Peter pulled out a roll of medical tape. I hadn't thought that far ahead; hadn't thought shaving everything would be a requirement for the gig. I didn't give a damn how easy he claimed it'd be to get the tape off in the shower, I knew better than to put adhesive anywhere near my balls.
"Max, you going to get your ass out there or hide out making moony eyes with Tony?" Eli hollered the second time he came back to summon me. That meant I'd missed out on at least two performances. "You lost the bet fair and square. Now, it's time to pay up."
"Wait, you're doing this because of a bet?" Shit. I'd left that part out when I'd explained to Tony why I wasn't behind the bar on one of our busiest nights of the year. I hadn't lied to him; I was playing Madonna tonight because the Madge Eli had lined up had to back out after she broke her damn leg.
"Not really a bet the way you're thinking. It was a stupid competition between us bartenders and Eli, and I lost. It's okay though because none of those assholes could've pulled off this look the way I did."
Tony licked his lips again before opening the door and ushering me inside. He pulled me close, shoving a hand under my skirt. I moaned loudly as he pushed his fingers between my legs, tracing the length of my cock. "This can't be comfortable."
"It's not so bad," I admitted. "It’s weird at first, but you get used to it quick. The only time it sucks is when I have some asshole rubbing up against me."
"I'm sure you'll come up with a suitable revenge." Tony slid his hand around the back of my neck, very carefully running his fingers through my wig, taking care not to yank it off. He leaned in, his mouth only inches from mine. God, I wanted him to kiss me. "I should probably leave you alone so you can get changed."
"Uh-huh." I would've been more convincing if I wasn't still clutching onto Tony's shirt for dear life. I really did need to get changed and schmooze for tips, but I'd much rather drag him out the back door and be in his car on the way home before anyone noticed we were gone.
"It'd be easier if you let go of me," Tony pointed out. He uncurled my fingers from his shirt. The kind thing for him to do would be to turn and run away, but I knew Tony better than to think he'd let me go without teasing me a little more. He slid his hand down the white lace of my corset, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. "Fuck... Would it be wrong for me to beg you to wear this home under your clothes tonight?"
