The women at the tables surrounding them shot to their feet, cheering, a keen look of anticipation gleaming in their eyes.
Mabel Lee watched them as their energy erupted and inhibitions went up in smoke. They craned their necks, screaming and whistling, fistfuls of cash waving in the air.
Heather leaned in. “Oh, I’ve heard of this guy. He’s not one of their regulars. No one ever knows what nights he’ll perform. It’s kind of made him a legend,” she said in a hushed whisper. “If one of us wins the free dances, he’s the one to pick hands down. What do you say, ladies?”
“I’m going to have to get a preview of the goods first,” Layla said.
The waiter popped in between them and unloaded their array of drinks.
“This looks incredible,” Cassidy said. She raised her shot glass in the air and waited for the rest of them to do the same. “To Aurora…the first of our crew to take the fall. Bottoms up, ladies!”
Mabel Lee watched them gulp down the contents in one shot. She popped the cherry off the top and set it on her napkin before she took a small sip, testing the flavor.
“Girl, drink it…you need to loosen up,” Aurora said, nudging her elbow.
“Here goes nothing,” Mabel Lee said and took a large gulp. The liquor burned a pleasant trail down her throat, leaving a warm pool in the pit of her belly. Sweet with a bite, the flavor with a hint of cinnamon burst on her tongue. She gasped and licked the froth of butter rum from her lips.
“That a girl. Now, this one you sip slowly. Just like the white wine you love so much,” Cassidy said, handing her the chocolate drink with a dollop of whipped cream and another gleaming red cherry perched on top.
The cherry supply would be plentiful when it was time to make a fool of herself.
“I wouldn’t say I love it,” she said, not sure she liked the way Cassidy’s comment sounded.
“Your mama’s not here to overhear…admit it, you love the stuff,” Layla said in a hushed whisper.
Maybe it was the club, her friends all smiling at her, or maybe it was the liquid courage beginning to shoot like a rocket through her veins, but she bit her bottom lip, her mouth spreading in a wide smile. “Okay, yes, I love it.”
“Girl, wine is even in the bible. What is that verse? Be not drunk with wine or something, but be filled with the spirit? Mabel Lee, it’s time to be filled with the spirit.”
She sputtered out a laugh as her friend mangled the quote from Ephesians, and although they poked fun, she appreciated the way they tried to ease her trepidation.
A hush fell over a crowd. The room plunged into near darkness, and a heavy beat pulsated from the speakers.
The spotlight shot across the room and landed on the far corner of the stage.
Viper stepped out, each step cool and calculated. He kept his face turned toward the darkness, hiding his features. Shrugging his shoulders, he cocked his head from side to side, his suit jacket rising and falling over wide shoulders.
If they were anywhere else, she’d swear he was nothing more than a businessman home after a long day at the office.
Well, if arriving home were set to pulsing, sensual music. The kind that immediately made all reason and logic fly out of your head even as your hips started to following along with the sexy beat.
More lights flicked to life on the stage illuminating a standing shower with all glass doors, a chair, and what looked like a tall, dark bed peeking out from the partial shadows in the far back of the stage.
One quick spin and he skidded to a stop, earning a gasp from the crowd. A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like a man who knew exactly what he was doing to the ladies in the room.
That’s what made my heart slide right into my throat, the way he played with the crowd, subtle and confident.
He loosened the knot of his tie, sliding it away from his neck. With a quick yank, he dragged it over his head and tossed it onto the chair.
Mabel Lee glanced away and pressed her hands against her flaming cheeks while her heart raced wildly out of control.
The beat sped up, and she couldn’t resist the urge to look, just to find him shrugging off his suit jacket even as he unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a glimpse of his tan, chiseled chest.
Mixing his everyday movements with quick bursts of dance moves, he had the women around her sliding to the edge of their seats. Anything to get just a few inches closer.
She fidgeted with the straps of her purse as she sat riveted to her seat, the flex of his lean muscles mesmerizing her as he gave them a peek into the private life of a businessman home after a long day in corporate America.
Maybe he had personal plans later.
Maybe he planned a quiet night in.
In this voyeuristic moment, they could set their imaginations free and write any story.
“He is absolutely glorious,” Heather whispered with her drink trembling in her hand.
“He reminds me of Christian Grey…only better,” Aurora sighed.
Abs flexed and rolled with his sultry dance moves. She tried to imagine any of the young men of their parish who’d shown interest in her over the years looking like that under their clothes.
Or having those moves.
Not a chance.
With his dress pants undone but still clinging to his hips, he sauntered over to the shower, opened the door, and turned the water on.
The minute droplets hit his arm, the women in the crowd screamed.
He gave them a quick glance and a knowing smile, revealing straight, white teeth. A dimple popped up in his right cheek, and his intense, green eyes pierced like lasers through her armor and held her in its grip.
Lord have mercy; I might just be willing to dance with the Devil.
God, what was she saying? Even if she were willing to dabble in—well, what exactly? It’s not like she was going to even talk to the guy. She glanced away, her gaze landing on the list peeking out from the purse in her lap. Taking a look around the room, every female eye in the place remained glued to the stage while staff milled about, cleaning up empty glasses and filling drink orders.
She could knock one off the list now while she didn’t have an audience. All she had to do was lock eyes with one of the waiters and lick the cherry, right?
Or was she supposed to run the cherry over her cleavage. Darn it, she couldn’t remember. She reached in her bag and felt around for her phone. Tucking it under the table, she woke the screen and looked for the setting to turn on her flashlight.
She knew she should have learned how to use the darn thing when she got it. Now, here she was, having an emergency of the wanton kind with temptation sliding off his pants right there on stage, and the setting was nowhere to be found.
Aha! Found it!
The light flashed on, and she fumbled the phone in her hands, shooting the beam right in her eye.
The cell clattered to the floor, and she glanced at her friends, but their eyes remained glued to the stage.
Okay, she’d fly blind. That was fine. Eat a cherry, lick a cherry, it was all the same thing. As for the cleavage, she glanced down. Okay, no dragging the cherry across there. She’d be sticky the rest of the night.
With a waiter sidling into view, she tried to catch his eye, holding the cherry up toward her mouth, waiting for just the right time to lick.
He glanced over.
She darted out a tongue and caught the cherry full-on instead of grazing it. It swung back and smacked her on the chin. She lost her grip, and the cherry fell away, landing with a cold plop between her breasts just above the bodice of her dress.