I supposed it was better than being challenged to a striptease. At least with burlesque, it was accepted that some acts didn’t involve nudity. That said, it wasn’t as if I had many layers that I could use as part of the “tease.” I’d already ditched my shoes. I wasn’t wearing a bra. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to tune out everything else.
“Sixty seconds,” Allie called out.
Think, Bryn. Think!
I needed music. A costume, even if it wasn’t that great. An act. It was all about captivating the audience, tantalizing them, regardless of how much or how little I removed.
I glanced around the circle for props, costume materials,anything. I stood and grabbed Allie’s hat from her head before placing it on mine. I snagged one of the bridesmaids’ pashminas before draping it around my shoulders.
“Thirty seconds,” Allie taunted.
“What about music?” I asked.
“What song do you want?” I went to her side, nearly stumbling on the sand. I wanted to blame it on my haste, but maybe I was tipsier than I realized.
I grabbed Allie’s phone and skimmed through her music selection. Even though the others were talking and laughing, I could feel their rising curiosity. My hands were shaking, but I knew, if I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. Once the music started, I would have to put aside my insecurities and embrace my inner badass.
I selected a Michael Bublé song with a sultry, big-band feel. I took a deep breath as Allie pressed play, preparing myself as if to step onto a stage. As the opening notes to “Feeling Good” began to play, I tried to channel all my inner confidence.
I grazed my fingers over the backs of several chairs, exaggerating the sway of my hips. When the jazzy beat kicked in, I sank down low. At first, it was clumsy. I felt awkward.
But if I thought of myself as a character in a show, I could push down the embarrassment threatening to heat my cheeks. I could imagine myself on a stage under a spotlight, with a top hat and a feather boa. Not…walking along the beach, with my sister and her friends watching as I dragged my hands seductively down my chest.
Several people let out a whistle, and I could feel everyone’s eyes on me. But when my eyes locked on Frasier, I felt centered. And the way he was watching me made me feel like the confident, sexy woman I was trying to portray.
I was performing for him and him alone. I didn’t dare scan the circle for reactions or opinions. In that moment, no one but Frasier existed. And his eyes were locked on mine, pulling me in.
As Michael Bublé sang about it being a new dawn, I felt some of my worries fall away. I hadn’t danced in a while, but power oozed from my body with every step. I was practically vibrating with the force of it.
I held Frasier’s eyes from across the circle, using my empty chair as a prop in my performance. I pretended the chair was my dance partner, and occasionally I’d grind against it or sit on it. I sank down, spreading my thighs apart, grateful for the long, flowy fabric of my dress. It hinted at my curves without revealing too much.
His nostrils flared, his hands gripping and releasing his own thighs. God, he was so hot. And if his biggest turn-on was a woman with confidence, I was going to do my best to give that to him. To be that for him, but also for myself.
I stood and removed my top hat, holding it over my face and pulsing it as I moved my hips and then shimmied my shoulders. I wasn’t thinking about what was next; I wasn’tthinkingat all. I let the feel of the music guide me. I tossed the top hat aside, bending down before snapping up and whipping my hair around.
Maybe it was the rum or my audience, but I was enjoying myself. I flashed Frasier a flirty smile, really leaning into the role. His mouth popped open, and in the background, I could hear several people shouting their appreciation.
While I didn’t typically crave the spotlight, I felt empowered. I was taking charge—of the performance, the energy, my sexuality. And I was embracing my sensuality, teasing with the pashmina, my body, my facial expressions. It was so freeing, like the smoke rising from the fire into the night air.
I tossed the pashmina aside, and I could feel all eyes on me as I crossed the circle to Frasier. When the music intensified, I dragged my hands up over my body, lifting them up my neck and through my hair before letting it fall. And then I sank down low, reveling in the way he watched me, thighs spread, lips parted.
As the music reached its crescendo, I lip-synched along with the final words about feeling good. I did feel good, and that wasdue in large part to Frasier. I wanted to touch him, needed to touch him and be close to him.
So I placed my hand on his shoulder, eyebrow raised in silent question. I couldn’t flat out ask him for permission, not without giving it all away. He set his drink down beside him, and when he patted his thigh in response, I flashed him a grateful smile that he’d understood.
I lifted my dress slightly, slowly lowering myself onto his lap. He was so big, so imposing. And yet, I’d never felt anything but safe when I was with him.
Even now, when I knew I was pushing the limits, I trusted that he’d be there to catch me. He always was.
I draped my arms around his neck, thinking back to our dance at the beach bar. I’d never imagined that a man who was so powerful and physically aggressive could also be so sultry and sensuous, seductive even. All night, I’d found myself wanting him to touch me like that again.
I wanted him to want to kiss me. I wanted him towantme.
But right now, I had a show to finish. A dare to complete. So I locked my legs around his waist, and then I let go of his shoulders, reclining so that the ends of my hair dusted the ground. I brought myself back up to a seated position, draping one arm over his shoulder and then turning to wink at my audience as the final notes faded out.
For a moment, it was silent but for the snap and crackle of the logs on the fire. And then everyone burst into applause. Allie leaped to her feet. “Oh my god!”
“That was…” The girl next to me fanned herself. “So hot.”
