Lara

The bones of the feathered corset cut into my bruised torso as Rosa pulls the laces tighter. The pain almost makes me cry out, but I fight it. Gavin said I’m going on tonight, and that means no more hiding. I don’t know if Freddie will be in the audience watching as I make my debut in diamonds. If he is, I don’t know how that will change things.

Next comes the glittering top. It’s a network of chains, which she attaches with costume glue to the skin under my breasts and up the center of my chest. The collar is snug around my neck, and when I stand straight, it raises my small breasts so they point straight ahead.

“Be still,” she says, standing in front of me and taking out the brush and paint.

I stare at the corner where the wall meets the ceiling behind her as she touches me lightly with the brush. Painting my areolas with pink glittered body paint. The strokes of the brush are gentle, and my nipples harden.

“Good,” she mutters. “The paint is cooling. It will keep them tight and pointy. Men love that.”

My stomach tightens at the thought of Mark seeing me this way, wondering if he loves it. When we kissed, I told him I only wanted him to see me this way. It’s still true, but it’s a stupid dream. Everyone will see me tonight. My only comfort is in how different I look—almost like my transformed body has become my costume.

“They look bigger… How?” I study my new-and-improved bosom in the mirror. Gavin has often complained about my small breasts, my boyish figure. He’ll approve of this development.

“The corset pushes you up,” she says. “And perhaps you’ve grown a bit.”

“Not this much.” The new corset is blood-red velvet with lines of black sequins running up the bodice. A train of black feathers flows from each of my hips, leaving my ass exposed in only a thong, and the front is the smallest heart-shaped scrap of fabric.

Rosa jerks my corset, straightening it and sending pain shooting through my sides. I wince. “Look straight ahead,” she orders.

I look forward and she gathers my hair into a twist of large curls at the top of my head. On my shoulders, thin black feathers flow down and tickle the tops of my arms. With my hair up, the full effect of the ensemble is dazzling. It’s the most revealing, decorated costume I’ve ever seen.

Rosa frowns at me. “I don’t like it.”

“What?” I barely recognize myself. It’s like some beautiful woman with breasts has sneaked in and taken my place. “I think I look amazing.”

“You look so old.” She drops my hair. “It’s too soon.”

A knot is in my throat, but there’s no changing it. I step forward and pick up the box Freddie sent. I slide the white ribbon from around it and lift the barrette. The crystals send rainbow sparkles through the room when the light hits it, and I hold it up against the side of my head. Rosa looks over my shoulder.

“From Freddie?” she asks.

I nod, and her hands return to my hair, twisting it up and around again. “Hand it to me,” she says.

I pass it to her, and she attaches it in the side of my hair. “That’ll do. It’ll encourage him to see you wearing it during your performance.”

She seems happier, and I give her a sad little smile. I never realized Rosa cared about what happened to me, and if I leave this place, I know I’ll never see her again. I turn to embrace her in the quiet sadness now filling the room. We’re interrupted by a soft knock at the door. Rosa steps back to open it, and my eyes rise to meet… beautiful blue.

“Roland sent me to…” Mark’s voice cuts off as he takes in my appearance. Then it drops to a whisper. “You look—”

“I’ll check on Molly,” Rosa steps to the side and pushes past him out the door.

She’s gone, and we’re alone in my room. His reaction makes my stomach tighten, tingling heat rises up my thighs, centering in my core. I look away, reaching for the barrette and unfastening it from my hair. One tug and a dark curtain falls across my hot-pink cheeks and exposed breasts.

Mark’s breath is audible. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

My shoulders tremble. I want him to see me—I want only him to see me—but I’m not used to the power of my body. I’m intimidated by its effect on men.

Blinking up, our eyes meet, and his are dark, drinking in my breasts, my legs, my bare pussy hidden behind the dark heart.

“I wish…” His voice trails off.

My voice is barely audible. “What do you wish?”

Navy eyes blink to mine, and the hunger there makes my knees weak. “I wish you were mine. Only mine. I wish I could touch you. I wish I was a rich man, so I could take you far from here.”

“Only fools make wishes here.”

His head moves side to side, and he smiles. “Oh, beautiful girl, I’d trade being a fool here with you for a lifetime anywhere else.”

I don’t have a response to that, but he doesn’t give me a chance.

“I’d hoped to see you last night,” he continues. “I wanted to see you.” His expression is different, changed.

“I was tired.” It’s all I’ll say, not that I was defeated and sad and dreaming of him taking the pain away.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Calm certainty is in his tone as if a decision has been made, a promise.

Our eyes meet, and heat fills me at what’s to come, what I’ve been longing for. I only have time for a nod when the door opens, and Rosa enters my small room.

“They’re dimming the lights. It’s time to get to your marks.” She plants a thick hand on Mark’s chest and pushes him out the door, closing it.

“He’s a sweet boy,” she mutters. “Now face me.”

I don’t answer. I’m too dazzled by his words, his promise, my beating heart. She dusts my entire body with a large pink brush, and the faintest highlight covers my skin.

“What do you think about him?” she asks.

“Who?” I try to pretend my thoughts are elsewhere.

“I said that Mark seems like a sweet boy,” she repeats staring at my face.

“I owe him my life.” I step off the platform, aware she isn’t convinced, but she pulls open the door and lets me escape without another word.

It’s time for me to head to my place and assume the position as star of the finale.

The finale in which I descend from above, the dark angel singing out over the audience.

On that swing.

I race through the sticky rosin, the talc-filled air, past the low murmur of dancers warming up, to the narrow metal ladder against the back wall in the wings. I ignore the hollow stabs of pain hitting my middle whenever I move and once I’m there, I look up.

No robe covers me tonight. My body is bare except for the strategically placed jewels and feathers, and it’s time to climb. Rosa stops me before I begin, patting the tiny beads of sweat away from my hairline with a tissue, following quickly with a cone-shaped purple sponge.

“Freddie’s sitting stage right,” she says, re-fastening the barrette in the side of my head. “Turn your head so he sees it.”

I nod, ready to hurry up the ladder, but as I climb, everything slows down.

I don’t understand what’s happening.

I’m in perfect shape for climbing a ladder, but the higher I go, the harder it is to breathe. It’s like a fist is tightening around my throat.

By the time I reach the top, I’m gasping and shaking all over. My body is covered with a cold sheen of sweat and pain grips my chest. I can’t move. Mark is waiting for me, ready to help me into my seat. But all I can do is stand there and grip the rope, paralyzed by fear.

He takes one look at my face and seems to understand immediately what’s happening. He quickly comes to where I stand shivering and reaches for me with his still-bandaged hand.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Take my hand.”

My wide eyes lock on his, just visible in the dim light so high above the dancers.

“I… I don’t understand.” I can’t explain the panic I feel, why I can’t catch my breath. It’s more than nerves or stage fright. It’s something far more powerful.

“Look at me,” he says, holding both my hands. “Breathe.”

My chest is tight, but I try to do as he says.

“Vanessa has done it twice. I personally double-checked everything an hour ago. It’s not going to break.”

I hold his hands, and I can feel the strength that caught me when I fell. I believe him, but my body doesn’t want to cooperate.

“I won’t let you fall, Lara.”

I look into his eyes and focus on taking in air and pushing it out. I study his hands, and I remember him holding me, his wishes, his promise to protect me. Since the accident, since our day on the levee, since every other time he’s been with me, I realize we’re on the edge of something more, something bigger than this place.

My body calms as my mind filters through these thoughts, as I hold his gaze, and even though my heart beats fast, it’s no longer from panic.

It’s something very different.

It’s waves crashing on the sparkling sand.

It’s the kiss of moonlight on a still lake.

It’s the most natural thing in the world.

“Don’t worry,” he soothes. “You’re safe with me.”

The words enter into my soul, and I know they’re true. The music plays below, and the girls perform. The crew mills about, and Rosa carries costumes and makeup from one room to the next.

Bad things happen.

Tragic things happen.

No one knows the things that happen to us here. We don’t know the chain of events that have started. I only wait for my introductory notes rising to meet us as he holds my hands so gently.

“I want to touch you.” His gaze travels from my eyes to my lips to my hair to my breasts.

“I want you to touch me,” I say.

His voice breaks. “If I touch you, I won’t be able to stop.”

A shiver moves through me. “I won’t want you to stop.”

“Come.” He helps me into position on the swing, fastens the safety harness, and takes leather gloves from his pocket. “I’ll meet you on the other side.”

“I’ll only think of you until I get there.”

His hands cover mine on the ropes, leaning closer. I lean closer, tracing my nose against the side of his cheek, inhaling his warm, masculine scent. He groans and turns, capturing my lips, swiping his tongue inside, but quickly easing back. I chase him, pulling his lips with mine, his tongue.

We’re careful. My makeup isn’t smeared, but it’s time. Our eyes hold each other’s as I swing out, away from the scaffolding and over the dark house. As I descend, I’m still looking up at him. A lone spotlight hits me, and just when I think I’m too far to hear his last words, they meet me.

“You’re beautiful,” he says.

My body glitters the bright lights, but I hold his smile, his eyes like two sapphires just visible from here. His hand is on the safety rope, and though my chest is still tight, I inhale a deep breath and sing out over the exclamations of surprise and delight from the audience.

* * *

Mark

Lara is a star.

Her performance is flawless. The audience is in love with her. Tanya might be the queen of the Angels for now, but Lara’s the new spirit on the rise.

I think of her before the finale. She blew my mind just a few minutes earlier in her dressing room. Her body was incredible. I could barely speak seeing her for the first time as the dark angel, the seductress. Her silky hair, crystal eyes… not to mention perfect breasts, long legs, delicate ankles.

I was lucky I didn’t come in my pants. She obliterated very regret from the night before, every second guess. It’s no question I’ll do whatever it takes to stay with her.

But when she reached the top of the ladder, she was panicking. I knew immediately it was trauma, and I couldn’t believe I didn’t anticipate it. We should have rehearsed her descent earlier in the day, helped her get over the residual fear, instead of compounding it with her debut.

I smile to myself remembering the way she pulled it together. She held my hand and found her control. Pride tightens my stomach when I think of how strong she is. She’s sweet and strong and beautiful, and I’m doing my best to stay out of sight as I make my way to her dressing room.

Last night, I did as I was ordered. It took me two hours to scrub the blood out of the white carpet. I sprayed the walls, everything with Clorox, then shined the black light on it to be sure nothing was left. No blood, no semen.

Then I gathered all the sheets and everything that wasn’t glued or nailed down and carried it across the basement to the enormous fireplace in the back room. A douse of lighter fluid, a match, and the evidence quickly disappeared, taking with it my dreams of heroism. How can I be a good guy now? I was officially welcomed to the dark side by a corrupt cop.

One thing makes my decision worth all I’ve lost, and I hope she’ll agree to sneak out with me tonight. I’m sure she will. I saw it in her eyes tonight in the rafters, high above this place. Our feelings are the same, our needs, our desires, and now we have a place to share them.

I’m in the back rooms, breaking the rules. Only, I’m not sure the old rules apply to me anymore. I’ve moved into a new realm of lawlessness. I pass the narrow doorways, different girls inside. Some have men with them, and I know enough now to understand the transactions happening there.

Tanya is hunched in the corner of her room, and her voice carries. She isn’t trying to hide it. “So I’m a product? A good to be bought and sold? That’s all I am now?”

I look inside. Rosa is with her. “Don’t kid yourself, it’s all you’ve ever been.”

“I have value. I’m a star.”

“Why do you think they want you?”

Rosa straps a yellow band around Tanya’s upper arm. She’s holding something silver, and light reflects off the tray. The door closes, but I know what she’s doing. I recognize that glazed, hungry look. Heroin.

My gut twists, and I count the days in my mind. How long before it gets bad, before we find her passed out or worse.

Fuck… I push the dark image aside. I only want to think about my bright angel at the end of this hall, the one I hope will put her hand in mine and take me to heaven tonight.

“Tres fantastique!” I pull up short when I see a man in Lara’s doorway. “The finale, your descent…” He holds both of her hands in his, and she’s dressed in that red robe. “You were a vision coming down from heaven. Pure art.”

I step fast into the doorway of an empty dressing room before I’m spotted.

“I’m so glad you were pleased.” Lara holds an enormous bouquet of red roses, and while her voice is warm, her words shred my insides. “I thought of you the whole time. Did you notice my hair?”

“It was like waves on the dark ocean.” The man smiles. “I mean yes, the barrette. I’m so happy you like my gift.”

“I love it.” Lara smiles and leans closer.

He lifts his hand to her jaw, and my chest is on fire. He’s dressed in a custom suit. On his wrist is a heavy, silver watch. This asshole is clearly rich. He’s exactly what she needs to get the fuck out of this place.

I want to kill him.

“I only have one concern.” I return to the doorway so I can hear what the fuck he might say. “You’re a vision, of course, but …”

“Yes?”

“Your costume is different.” He looks down, and I’m trying to figure out if this shit is serious.

He does realize the Pussycat Angels is a burlesque show, right?

“Does it change our arrangement?” Lara’s voice is quiet. “I know you preferred me as the pink angel.”

“Not at all,” he says quickly. “I’m just sensitive to your feelings.”

Shit! I stride across the room, slamming my fist into the back of a velvet chair. It muffles the sound, but it doesn’t ease the fury in my chest. If he’s so sensitive to her feelings, why doesn’t he do something? The cold realization trickles through my veins. It’s probably why he’s here.

“Thank you,” Lara says. “It’s hard to find men who understand in my line of work.”

The knife twists further in my guts. I have to go, leave her to this rich guy. He’s clearly what she needs, and I’m the dreamer who should care enough to let her go.

I step to the door and watch for a chance to leave. For now, I’m trapped. If I go out, she’ll see me, and she’ll know I heard their conversation. I have to wait and suffer through this.

“Is Gavin making you do it? Because I could speak to him if you’d like.”

“Gavin does make the final decisions, but he’s controlled by the desires of the audience. I think he’d argue it’s part of the act, the artistry.”

“I suppose you’re right. But if you’re uncomfortable in any way—”

“I’ll try to manage.”

“Excellent. Because your body is amazing…”

His sudden change in tone pulls a feral growl from my throat.

“What was that?” The fucker looks over his shoulder, but I don’t move.

He’s a fraud. Lara has to know it. He doesn’t give a shit about her feelings. It’s all an act…

I lean out in time to see him lift her hand to kiss it. Only, I’ve stepped out too far. Lara’s beautiful blue eyes flicker up and collide with mine. Lightning strikes, and her body tenses. Her shoulders rise, and she pulls her hand away.

“I’m sorry?” The man straightens, confused by her sudden withdrawal.

I’m not confused. My eyes hold hers; our connection is undeniable.

“I-I just realized”—her hand flutters to her forehead—“I’m simply exhausted.”

“Of course you are, darling. After your fall and your first night back… I hope you’ll let me visit you again tomorrow?”

“You’ll be back?”

My anger is fading fast. The warmth in her voice is gone. She’s flustered and off her game now that she knows I’m here. Don’t be afraid, beautiful…

“I couldn’t stay away. I could listen to you sing until the end of my days.”

Hopefully they won’t end sooner than he expects.

“Freddie, you’re too kind to me.”

He goes in for another kiss, and she lifts her hand quickly between them. I don’t laugh when I see him pull back.

“Good night, mon amour,” he says, kissing her hand.

My jaw tightens. I don’t like him touching her.

Her smile is tight, and she nods, staying at the doorway as he backs away. I step into the shadows and listen to his crisp steps fading down the passage.

He’s gone. We’re alone, and she knows I’m here.

What will she do?

“Mark?” she calls softly, and I open the door, emerging from the empty room.

Her face brightens, and it’s not an act. It’s real.

“I wasn’t trying to spy,” I say, closing the space between us. “I came to congratulate you.”

Her cheeks flush a pretty shade. “For what?”

“You did it. And you were so brave after what happened.”

Her eyes are on my mouth. “I couldn’t have done it without your help. You kept me from fainting.”

“I only distracted you. You’re the one who got on that bench. I couldn’t have made you do that.”

“I couldn’t have done it if you hadn’t been there.” She reaches out and takes my hand. “You saved me once… I knew you’d do it again.”

I cover her small hand with mine. “I’ll do it every time.” Then I remember the pain, the fear, the blood, and I chuckle. “Or let’s not let it happen again.”

She smiles and steps back, going farther into her room. I glance quickly over my shoulder and follow, closing the door behind me.

Clearing my throat, I can’t help it. My feelings are strong, primal. “Who was that guy?”

Her eyes blink quickly away, fingers twisting together. “Freddie Lovel. He’s a friend of Roland’s… He’s—”

“He’s rich.” I look down at my jeans, my dirty hands, and I hate acknowledging the truth. “He’s rich, and I’m… well, I’m just getting started.”

“Roland thinks I should encourage him.” She turns her back, and my eyes travel the length of her hair, the line of her robe. She’s so beautiful. “I know he’s right, but… I have this problem.”

“What problem?”

She turns and her robe is open. Her body is bare beneath it, and heat rushes to my cock. I swallow the knot in my throat as she steps closer, the sides of the velvet catching on her tight nipples. She takes my hand gently in hers and guides it through the folds to her body. It’s the most erotic thing she’s ever done.

“I only want you.”

My fingers tighten, and both my hands are on her now. I only hesitate a moment when I see the fading mark on her waist. “Does this hurt?”

“Nothing hurts when I’m with you.”

I pull her to me, and she grasps my cheeks, guiding her mouth to mine. Lips collide, tongues slide and curl. She whimpers. I groan. Desire flares hot beneath my skin, and the semi I’ve had for days, every time she’s in my presence, rages to full mast, begging for her wet heat.

“This isn’t how I’d planned it,” I say as the robe slides down her slender arms. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

My mouth is on her shoulder, biting. Her hands thread in my hair.

“You planned this?” she gasps as I move lower, pulling a tight nipple between my teeth, flicking it with my tongue, smoothing it with my lips. “Oh, Mark!”

I circle the tight bud before pulling back, kissing it and making my way to the other side. “No.” I pull that one between my lips, giving it a nibble. “I only dreamed of this.”

“Please, please.” She’s on her toes whimpering, and her eyes follow me. “Stay with me. Show me what you dream of.”

A smile curls my lips, and I cross to the door, pushing the brass lock in place. “With pleasure.”