Phantom: If by good you mean incredible performances, then yes.
Ghost: No, dumbass, he means with his pretty boy. Yes, all good.
I don’t bother answering, I just toss my phone on the passenger seat and tear off for the club. I need to see Cashmere, touch his skin, taste his kiss, smell him. Fuck, I really am obsessed with this man, but I somehow don’t give a fuck. I want what I want, and I want him.
I make it to the club and into my seat five minutes before Cashmere is scheduled to come on. Darcy sees me, smiles, and automatically brings me a gin on the rocks. I’ll have to leave him a nice tip for that.
Phantom is gazing to his left, focused on someone or something I don’t see.
“What’s up?” I ask.
He turns to me, grinning. “Something pretty.”
“Dude, you’ve been looking at that person for an hour,” Ghost says. “Just go talk to them.”
“Yeah, okay.” With that, Phantom is on his feet, crossing the small space. I watch him stop in front of a tall, lithe person, but from this angle, I can’t see much else.
“We saw them when we came in,” Ghost says. “They danced earlier and I think Phantom fell in love. Or he fell in something.”
I chuckle, sipping my drink. “Good for him. No eye candy for you?”
“Lots of eye candy, but I’ve been keeping track of things. Every person who walks in here gets my attention.”
I put my hand over his for a second where it’s resting on the table. “I appreciate the backup. Nothing weird?”
“Not at all. Maybe the dude got scared off.”
“Or maybe he’s patiently waiting.”
“True. What’s the plan?”
That’s a damn good question. “I fucking need one. I thought the guy would be easy to find, but apparently he’s playing the long game.”
“You need to draw him into the light.”
“Yeah.” I sip my drink again. “But this isn’t a regular job. It’s not even a job. I have to keep Cashmere safe in the process.”
Ghost nods in agreement, but the conversation dies as the lights dim and the drag queen MC comes out to tell a couple of jokes before introducing Cashmere. A spotlight comes on to the left of center stage where the pole is. The curtains draw back and there he is.
My cock twitches and my chest tightens as soon as I lay eyes on him. He’s wearing a skintight nude-colored bodysuit, his toned legs on display. His thighs are something else; thick but sculpted. Strong. Nothing delicate about my pretty dancer.
He struts out onto the stage with loud, bass-heavy music playing.
“I fucking love this song,” Ghost says, bobbing his head.
“What’s it called?”
“‘Breathe’ by W. Ave. So fucking good.”
Cashmere is on stage, doing some hypnotic bouncing thing with his incredible ass. Fuck, I want to bury my face there. He flips his hair around, then winks at me when we make eye contact. My jaw drops as he swings onto the pole, writhing up and down it like he knows how to defy gravity.
The lights pulse with the beat of the music. There are soft parts in the song that Cashmere uses to draw attention to his stunning body, dragging his elegant hands over his torso and neck.
He’s upside down, with one leg wrapped around the pole as he slides up and down it easily. He flips off, sliding down into splits, but still bouncing that ass. I’m vaguely aware of Phantom sitting down beside me again, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Cashmere if the world was burning.
I’m also aware that he’s got this audience in a chokehold. Guys are on their feet, hollering and whistling in appreciation. My chest puffs with pride. That’s mine.
Cashmere folds his body backward, showing off how flexible he is. Then he’s on his feet, tearing the bodysuit off with one pull, revealing miles of flawless skin. He drags his hands up his bare legs, gazing at me again as he licks his lips.
