Chapter Nine

GEORGINA

 

 

Priya and Kaley went home to get ready and said they’d meet me there.

I picked out the tiny tight minidress I’d worn the first night I met Blake. It was the smallest piece of clothing I owned, while still being considered outerwear.

When I put it on and checked myself out in the rehung bathroom mirror, I looked nothing like the girl who wore that dress the first time. She’d been so nervous, dressing up and playing a part. With my new haircut, and tattoo peeking out where my shoulders were bare, I didn’t just look the part—I felt it. Maybe this new Georgina could move forward in life, and leave tragedy behind. Maybe her results would come in as benign and she would never have to face cancer the way the old Georgina had.

Maybe I couldn’t leave tragedy behind. Maybe no one could. But maybe I could be strong enough to face it.

Do you think that could be me, Mom? Could I be that person?

The club Blake had sent me to was out in the funkiest section of town, near the sex store where we had been that one time. I walked hesitantly along the filthy pavement up to the entrance, triple-checking the address was right. I could hear doofy music playing within, and colored lights flashed out through the dark entryway guarded by a tired bouncer who gave me a too-old-for-this-shit look. Not many people were going in, but the women who did weren’t in the age range to be carded anyway.

Kaley popped up beside me. She wore a hot pink dress that seemed to be more straps than coverage, her long hair in thick, perfect curls falling all around her. Priya arrived behind her looking as different as a twin could, with her hair straight and precise, and wearing designer ripped jeans, and an 80s-style mesh-and-neon-shirt combo.

Priya tilted her head at the venue. “This what we’re doing? A strip club?”

“Is that what this is?” I studied the front of the building again and spotted a small chalkboard near the door that said, ‘Ladies night.’

“You didn’t know?”

“No. This is kind of a thing. I’m doing this thing where there’s a list, and … look, I’ll catch you up later.”

Priya shrugged. “Looks like fun.”

Kaley had the look of a toddler at Christmas and ran straight inside. Her squeals trailed behind her. “This will be epiiiiic!”

None of us were carded as we passed the bouncer. He barely glanced up from the e-reader in his hands.

Inside, the place smelled like old beer, and most of the surfaces felt like it too. The lights were dim but not dim enough to hide the fact that this bar had needed a renovation about three decades ago. It was two-thirds empty, so it wasn’t hard for us to grab a table right up close to the stage. The stage was lit up by garish purple and pink lights, lined with feather boas, and featured a short catwalk and a few poles. I wasn’t sure ‘near the stage’ was where I wanted to be.

Around the bar were middle-aged women who had perfected the cougar look. They were drinking and shouting boisterously, catcalling at the empty stage. While Priya and Kaley went to order drinks, I grabbed my phone.

Me: Where are you, and what am I doing here? Did I have ‘make a drug deal’ on my list?

Blake: All will be revealed soon. Literally.

Okay, so he’s sent me here to watch a strip show.

It made some sense. I’d been fourteen when the Magic Mark movie came out. My best friend at the time, Christy, and I had desperately wanted to see it because everyone had raved about the sexy stripping scenes. She snuck a copy from someone else at school against her parents’ wishes. Because, as she’d said, life was short. We’d watched the movie together at a sleepover, hiding under a blanket, giggling and gushing through the whole thing. I’d had a huge crush on Magic Mark for a long time after that. I could easily have put something to do with that on my list.

That was right before I was diagnosed. When I went through treatment, Christy wasn’t my best friend anymore. She just moved on. There were no fights or dramas; she just faded out of my life. Teenage years are hard enough without trying to stay friends with someone with cancer. Christy was just a kid. I didn’t blame her. But sometimes I still did miss her.

The twins returned with beers, and I tried to explain to them why we were here, and the childhood bucket list Blake was intent on having me complete despite me not knowing what was on it. It was difficult to tell the whole story, or enough of it to make sense without completely humiliating myself or crying. I think they had the gist of it when we were thankfully interrupted.

A man stepped up on the stage. He looked like he could have been a movie star, twenty years earlier. His voice was almost lost as the women around the room whistled and hollered at his appearance.

“Hello ladies! Are we ready to paaaaaaaaarttaaayy?”

Excited screaming came from all around me, especially from Kaley who was up on her feet whooping with her arms in the air. The MC laughed, lifted his suit jacket at the back, and shook his sculpted ass at us. “I bet you want to see something a little sexier than me up here. This is way too much clothing, am I right?”

Assent at high decibels made my ears ring.

“Let’s get this party started then with your favorite hunka-hunka burning love—Dirk Daring!”

I sat there, dumbstruck, as a man with a body that looked like he’d worked out six hours a day since the age of two spun out onto the stage, his muscles gleaming with oil. The leather chaps he wore framed his ass cheeks. They wriggled and flexed, and as he tore his shirt off, his pecs bounced up and down. He wore a brown fedora and carried a long bullwhip. When he let the whip loose with a loud crack, women up and down the stage screamed and tossed handfuls of dollar bills at him.

He pranced around the stage, sticking his ass up high in the air, bending over, and then getting down on the stage to hump the floor. I tried not to stare, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the man. As much as I wanted to pretend I was proper and sophisticated and not part of the caterwauling masses, I was getting turned on.

But where the heck was Blake? Was he too chicken to come along to this with me?

All around me, women were yelling.

“Take it off!”

“Yeah, work it, work it!”

Kaley joined in with, “Bring some of that beefcake my way!”

Dirk Daring jumped off the stage. He stripped down to just a bright red thong, and he started waving his crotch in women’s faces. They stuffed money into his thong or held notes in their mouths for him to take with his own.

Then it was my turn for the ‘up close and personal’ show. I was giggling like a schoolgirl but managed to drag out a bill and slip it in the string around the man’s hips. I didn’t even see how much I gave him.

He spoke softly, just for the two of us to hear. “First time, darling?”

I bit my lip and giggled a little more.

“We’ll make it extra special for you, just wait.”

He winked and was off to the next woman, wads of cash creating a frilly fringe around his waist. He made it back onto the stage, did a couple more one-handed push-ups, cracked his whip again, and ran off.

From somewhere out of sight, the MC spoke up again. “We’ve got someone new for you all tonight. Introducing, for the first time, Jungle Jim! Ladies, wouldn’t you like to climb all over this Jungle Jim?”

The next guy swung in, Tarzan style, on a long rope painted green like a vine. Shouts almost tore the roof off the place.

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for another show already. The first had been fun, if a bit confronting. I slunk lower in my seat to obscure the bright red shade I knew had colored my face, hiding behind my beer glass. Have I completed the list item requirement yet? Can I go now? Kaley and Priya seemed to still be having fun, so I hunkered down.

Kaley poked me in the shoulder over and over. “Omigod, omigod, omigod!”

The women went totally nuts, and I peered up over the rim of my drink to see what was going on.

The new stripper’s body was familiar. He moved in a way that was—

It couldn’t be.

It was!

Blake. The new stripper was Blake. He wore nothing but a loincloth and a jaguar skin that was thrown over his shoulders where his caramel hair just reached, looking wild and tousled.

No. Way.

My mouth literally dropped open. I saw my expression mirrored in Kaley and Priya’s faces as they recognized him too.

“I am so jealous right now,” Priya yelled over the noise.

All the women around me were screaming and throwing money at Blake as he twirled down to the ground on the rope.

The last guy’s moves were mostly just hip grinding and workout moves, but Blake put his dancing skills to perfect use.

When he ripped the jaguar skin off his shoulders and flexed his back muscles, I stood up from my chair and hollered with the rest of them.

Blake caught sight of me and did a double take. He mouthed, “Wow,” and fanned his face. I scrunched my nose and played with the ends of my now very short hair.

With a wink, Blake tossed the fake animal fur in my direction. Some other women tried to intercept it, but it landed safe in my hands, still warm and smelling of Blake. I looked up at him and realized just how nervous he seemed. I couldn’t stop grinning and started egging him on with my calls like the other women.

He was as oiled up as the first man, and while he wasn’t as sculpted, Blake was way hotter in my eyes. He’d stepped up his dance moves since the cafeteria performance, and the money was flying. I could feel the flush of lust burning under my skin, shortening my breath.

Blake came off the stage and danced briefly for a half a dozen women. I tried to control my jealousy. He wasn’t mine. I had no right to be jealous. Finally, he came over to me, and I sat back in my chair, suddenly nervous too.

He paused for a moment as he looked me up and down. Then he grabbed the back of my seat and dragged it and me away from the table and out into an open area. A spotlight followed us across the floor.

My eyes popped wide with panic. I was about to become part of the show.

Blake knelt in front of my chair, spinning and dancing on his knees as he worshipped me from below. Then the music changed, becoming more aggressive, and he grabbed my knees, forced them apart, and jumped up onto the space of chair between them. I gasped as he stood up, swaying his hips close to my face so all I could see was him and that spotty loincloth. My lips quivered in fear, and a longing built deep in my belly.

Blake jumped off the chair, and with a strong shove at the backrest I was falling backwards, then caught by strong arms before I reached the floor. Blake had me around the waist and off the chair, lifting my whole body with ease up onto him, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pumped against me, still dancing. The whooping of the crowd around me overwhelmed the music, and the drumming of my racing heart.

I was dropped down onto my knees, and Blake grabbed a fistful of my cut hair, rolling his hips toward my face. I groaned and gasped, each change in position and action happening too fast for me to keep up as Blake play-acted having his way with me in front of a screaming crowd.

With an impressive handstand and flip, Blake was then behind me where I kneeled, and he bent me over, grinding against me from behind. My face flushed, but not in shame. I could only feel the drunkenness of my lust for him.

When I couldn’t take anymore, with a gentle lift and twirl, I was back in my seat.

My breath rattled hoarsely as I gazed up at Blake.

“What the fuck?” I mouthed, lust and laughter on my lips.

He bent toward me and I strained forward too, thinking he was going to kiss me, my whole body desperate for his. “Dressing room two,” he said.

I looked over every part of him. I had come here tonight determined to remain cold and distant to him, to keep the message about our relationship, or lack of one, clear. The desire swimming in his eyes was almost more than I could take. Every fiber of my being was telling me to give in, to leap on top of Blake and take his remaining clothes off with my teeth. I wanted to feel the hard ripple of his stomach under my fingers and the swell of his manhood between my legs. I wanted him more than any logic or sense could fight.

I noticed the fur that had been dropped on the ground when I became a prop in Blake’s show. I scooped it back up and held it close.

The song ended, and Blake jogged off stage to earsplitting applause.

I was halfway out of my seat already, then glanced back at Priya and Kaley. “Do you mind … if I …?” I was too breathless to talk.

They shared a look. Priya said, “Sure, but can we crash at yours tonight? It’s just closer than our place.”

I nodded without even thinking and mumbled where they could find the spare keys.

Kaley smacked my ass. “Go get that sexy man-flesh, girl. We’re good.”

A man in a cop uniform came on stage next, and as the rest of the women focused on him, I stood up, panting. My vision blurred with need, and I found my way backstage.

Was Blake a stripper? Had he always been one? Had he been lying about the roofing job to cover it up? Or had he done all this just for me? I was confused, but dressing room two would hopefully hold my answers.

I knocked on the door, my heart in my throat. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever been so nervous to see Blake, and I didn’t know why.

“Georgie?” Blake answered the door, still wearing just the flap of leather loincloth from his performance. I choked out a breath and stood staring at his body for all of a minute before my voice came back. That body. Yeah, that was probably why I was nervous. It made my knees turn to jelly and filled my chest with burning sparks of passion.

I still clung to the fake jaguar fur, so I handed it back to him. “What just happened out there? Was being part of a strip show on my list?”

A gorgeous expression of bashfulness came across Blake’s face. “Your list had a line that said you wanted to date Magic Mark.”

I stared at his lips as he spoke, the soft pink of them, the slight pout to his bottom lip, the light stubble beneath it. I barely registered his words. I was imagining those lips, all over my body.

“You’re not Magic Mark,” I mumbled.

“This was as close as I could get.” He shrugged. The curve between his shoulder and bicep glimmered with sweat and oil, and I remembered how it felt to sink my teeth into his skin there.

“We’re not dating,” I breathed the words out. Flames licked underneath my skin. We stood closer together. Had I stepped closer? Had he?

His face moved near mine. His voice was a low rumble. “I really did try my hardes—”

Our bodies pressed together. I wrapped my arms around him, feeling the heat radiating off his bare skin, the slick of oil and sweat as I dug my fingers into his back. Blake let out a ragged groan and mashed his lips down onto mine. He reached behind me and slammed the dressing room door closed, then slammed me against it. Our hands were frantic, clutching fistfuls of each other, wrenching at clothing. Blake’s loincloth and G-string beneath tore away with ease, leaving him bare and hard between us. With a feral growl, he bent low, mashed his face into my cleavage, and popped the top buttons of my dress open with his teeth, letting my breasts fall free from their confinement. He kept his face there, wrapping his lips around mouthfuls of my soft flesh as though devouring me whole. My eyes rolled back, desire thrumming through me.

I could feel Blake’s hardness rubbing against my leg and I tried to reach for him, wanting to have him in my mouth again, sick with passion and knowing his body was my medicine. As I tried to move down, Blake caught me under the shoulders and lifted me off my feet, pressing my back against the door. In one swift move, he dropped to his knees himself, threw my thighs around his shoulders and pressed his face between them. My panties were still on but the friction they caused between my skin and his mouth only drove me crazier. Somewhere in the distance, a tiny voice called out, telling me to stop, that I shouldn’t be doing this. But it could have been calling from another planet for as much as I heard it over my frenzy of lust.

Blake’s lips and tongue took me to the edge of insanity, working me fast then slow, hard then soft. He brought his hands up, pulling away the fabric of my underwear and pressing his fingers into me, opening me, plunging in and massaging me from inside. Each thrust pushed me farther up the door and Blake followed until soon he was standing, holding me up high, pinned there in pleasure. I bit my tongue, trying not to scream in ecstasy.

The orgasm hit me so hard my vision blanked out completely. I just hung there, pressed against the door, held up on Blake’s shoulders, my mouth open wide, unable to make a move or sound as pleasure pulsed through me over and over.

As it ebbed and I started to slump, Blake lowered me down from his shoulders onto his lap, his cock sliding straight up into me as he did. I couldn’t hold back a sharp, high-pitched moan, the fullness of him inside me making my whole body shudder. We made love there, pressed against the door. I rocked against Blake’s lap for what felt like hours, and when he finally came I was right alongside him.

We collapsed onto the floor beside each other, and when we finally looked into each other’s eyes again, there were too many questions, and too much desire. So we said nothing, and made love on the floor again.