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  Entering the plush lobby decorated in red and black, I watched as a couple of the girls went toward the novelty store on one side of the room full of Leathers merchandise—tank tops, thongs, feather boas, calendars, and the like—while the others lined up at the giant double doors, waiting to enter.

  “Welcome to Leathers’ All Male Review,” an unseen woman’s voice boomed over the sound system. “Tonight’s show is guaranteed to get you all hot and bothered. We’d like to remind you this is a non-tipping show; so keep those dollar bills in your pockets. However, it is an audience participation event, meaning there may be some one-on-one contact or dancers who may mingle among the crowd, at times. We encourage you to scream, applaud, drink, and have a great time!”

  The giant doors opened to heavy, pulsating music pouring through the sound system and all the girls squealed as they began hurrying into the theater.

  “Audience participation?” I asked Bailey, timidly.

  She laughed, still hanging onto my arm like she was afraid I was going to bolt. “Relax, Brooklyn. It’ll be fun.”

  “Just promise me you won’t let me get dragged off somewhere,” I said, staring at the giant screens flanking either side of the stage, providing a slide show of black and white photos of shirtless men and their names. Glancing down at my feet, I paid careful attention to the steps down to our table, not wanting to turn my ankle in these shoes.

  Our group was seated at five separate tables, located directly front and center to the stage, near enough that whoever was on stage would be close enough to determine our eye color. As soon as we were settled, several waitresses began filtering between us, taking drink orders.

  “Can I just have an ice water?” I asked when the waitress came to me, feeling like hydration and staying cool were probably the best things for me right now.

  “Ice water?” Her eyebrows shot up a bit, as if no one ever ordered that. “Sure, no problem.” She quickly jotted down my order and disappeared.

  “Are you excited?” Bailey asked from where she was sitting across the narrow table from me. Her eyes were positively sparkling with excitement.

  I chuckled. “Ask me after the show.”

  “Oh! He’s hot!” Bailey said, pointing to one of the massive screens. I glanced up and my heart stopped dead.

  A giant picture of Six was plastered on the screen, with his name “Six” scrawled underneath it. A fine sheet of sweat broke out on my forehead and I wasn’t sure if it was from surprise or from seeing Six’s gorgeous upper body completely exposed.

  The picture flashed to another guy, but all I could see was Six’s image burned into my retinas. I grabbed Bailey’s hand for support.

  “Fun, huh?” she said, not having an inkling about my inner turmoil. I simply nodded, unable to speak, my throat felt so dry. I practically grabbed my water from the waitress when she returned, downing it quickly. “You okay?” Bailey asked. “You look seriously nervous.”

  Finally picked up on that, did you?

  “I am. But I’m excited, too.” That was no lie. Even the bouncers wouldn’t be able to drag me from the room at this point. I’d cement myself to the floor before I’d miss the opportunity to see Six on this stage.

  It didn’t surprise me that Bailey didn’t recognize him. I only knew him because of Tommy; otherwise our social worlds didn’t cross paths much, and I’d purposely tried to keep from drawing her attention to him.

  The house lights flickered and suddenly everything was plunged into darkness. A loud male voice boomed over the speakers, “Welcome to Leathers! Hang onto your seats! It’s show time!”

  Music exploded through the speakers as bright strobe lights beat across the theater. Smoke flooded the stage and all beams turned at once spotlighting a row of ten leather-clad men standing on the stage with their heads bent.

  I spotted him instantly; and, of course, he was directly in line with our table. Good heavens above, he was hot. My heart exploded, going into over drive.

  Screams and applause burst through the air. The men’s heads snapped up, revealing leather half masks on their faces, but I would’ve recognized those icy blue eyes, even if I hadn’t known it was him. Immediately, the men began gyrating in unison, to more screaming in the house.

  I knew the exact moment he recognized me because he faltered in his routine, stopping to stare, and a slow smile slid across his face. He stepped out of line and pointed directly at me before he popped quickly back into his choreography.

  “He’s pointing at you!” Bailey squealed in delight.

  I couldn’t move, unable to take my eyes off him as he ripped open the vest he was wearing and shrugged out of it, as did the others.

  I wasn’t going to survive this night.

  Chapter Seven

  Six

  I was pretty sure my eyes were playing tricks on me as I stared down at the table of women directly in front of me. Brooklyn Hall was starting to seep her way into every part of my life. Now I was imagining seeing her here at Leathers. Then I saw her best friend beside her and recognized her, as well. I couldn’t stop the slow smile that crept across my face.

  That little vixen. She was here illegally. She must have a fake ID.

  Realizing I’d fallen out of step, I moved forward and pointed at her, trying to make it look deliberate before I fell back into the routine. As far as I was concerned, from this moment on, I was dancing exclusively for one girl in the house, tonight. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from her and she was looking only at me—a very good sign, as far as I was concerned.

  Thoughts ran rampant in my head. What is she doing here? As soon as the song was finished, I ran off the stage to get ready for the next number while the MC, Max, kept the house riled up.

  “What the hell was that out there, Six?” Dusty asked, as we quickly changed and grabbed our props for our ‘Men at Work” number.

  I laughed. “Nothing. I got a little distracted when I saw a girl I know in the audience.”

  Dusty smiled. “A good surprise, I take it?”

  “A very good surprise.” I slipped the construction hard hat on my head.

  “So, I’m guessing you know who you’re grabbing for your solo number tonight, then?”

  I couldn’t wipe the damn grin off my face. “Yep. And I’m going to enjoy every second of it. I’ve been itching to get this girl underneath me for a while.”

  We hurried back on stage as the music for our next number started. I had to admit, I was thankful these routines were so ingrained in me that I didn’t have to think about them, because I was totally distracted. All I could see was Brooklyn.

  When it was time to go down off the stage—I jumped off, running to climb up on her table. Screams of women filled the air as the other guys did the same. Staring at Brooklyn, I grabbed the bottom of my wife beater and seductively pulled it off, swinging it over my head before tossing it to her.

  I was grinning like an idiot as she balled it up in her lap, her blush obvious in the wild bursts of lighting. Time to go back on the stage.

  I hopped off the table and hurried back to my spot, moving in time with the others as we bent and grabbed the bottoms of our breakaway jeans, ripping them off, revealing the leather G-strings we wore beneath. Frenzied screams blew through the roof as we turned, flashing our mostly bare butts to the audience. I wished I could see Brooklyn’s face right now.

  As soon as the number was finished, I ran off to the dressing area. I had a break during the next number to prepare for my solo that would follow. Snatching a towel, I wiped the sweat off my body before changing back into my tight breakaway leather pants and my half mask. I grabbed my cologne off the counter, misting on a bit.

  I’d done this routine more times than I could count, dragging women up from the audience to participate, but I couldn’t recall one time, I’d been this excited. Normally, this was just fun work to me. This time I was fighting my body, which was already going hard just from the idea of doing this with Brooklyn.

  This wa
s my chance to get a little sexual with her and stay in the safe zone, too. She had no idea what she was in for, but I was going to enjoy every second of it.

  “You know which girl you want, tonight?” Randy, the stage manager asked, and I nodded.

  “Table four, third chair. The brunette in the flashy sequined tank top.”

  Randy peeked through the curtain. “I see her. We’ll get her for you.”

  I took my place at the back of the rear curtain as I waited for the act before mine to finish. As soon as the guys cleared the stage, Max came on to pump the crowd again, and the prop guy pushed a large square ottoman out on the stage.

  Centering myself, I waited for his words. “I give you . . . Six!”

  Screams burst through the air as the lights went out and I hurried to my spot on the stage, standing with my back to the audience. Smoke filled the space around me and a single spotlight hit me as the soft beginning refrains of “Whispers in the Dark” filled the air before bursting into its heavy rocking beat.

  Spinning, I gyrated my hips, raising my hands in the air over my head, continuing to swivel. I worked my way to the edge of the stage and pointed to Brooklyn. The spot light swung to hit her and I crooked my finger, beckoning her to me. Randy was instantly at her side and the house went wild as she was helped up onto the stage.

  I could feel her rapid breathing as I dragged her into my arms, her back to my chest. Swaying with her, I lifted her arm, wrapping it around my neck before running the back of my hand down the side of her body, my fingers flitting lightly over the edge of her breast as it passed. I continued my downward path, grabbing her by the hips and spinning her around to face me.

  Her lips were parted and our eyes locked as I anchored her hips against mine, her tall heels making her fit against my frame much better than it would’ve normally.

  Hands splayed across her tight butt, I walked her backwards, toward the waiting ottoman, before swinging her up in my arms and spinning around. I draped her body across the ottoman and the crowd yelled even more as I ripped my pants away, leaving me in only the mask and G-string. I spread her legs, kneeling between them before reaching up to brazenly run my hands over her body, between the valley of her breasts, down to her small waist and over the bare skin of her legs.

  Brooklyn raised a hand, covering her mouth in surprise. Lifting her legs, I draped them over my shoulders, turning my head to trail my lips lightly down the inside of her leg. I couldn’t help letting the tip of my tongue snake out to taste her as I moved closer toward the hem of her shorts.

  She stiffened slightly, and goose bumps flared over her skin. I loved seeing her reaction. Sliding her legs off my shoulders, I quickly propped up on the ottoman so I was leaning over her. Using my hips to propel the ottoman, I began humping into her, causing us to slide across the stage each time I thrust against her.

  I barely noticed the crowd cheering enthusiastically. I was so into the moment, knowing Brooklyn could feel my rock hard length against her. I wanted her so badly it was painful. I wished I could have whisked her off the stage and carried her to the couch in the green room to make love to her for real.

  Reaching for her arm, I pulled her up, anchoring her to me, again, as I gyrated against her before sliding down her curvy body like she was my stripper pole. I wrapped my hands around her butt, placing my face against her shorts and blew a hot breath against her, near the apex of her legs.

  She started trembling and I smiled against the fabric, knowing she wasn’t immune to me. Standing, I lifted her. “Wrap your legs around me,” I ordered, and she did. I sat on the ottoman, leaning back on my hands so she was on top of me, now, and I pumped into her—again moving the bench across the stage.

  Her chest was heaving with short breaths and I knew she was turned on, too. “Stand up,” I told her and she did. I quickly followed her, moving behind her and bending her over the ottoman. Grabbing her hips, I began thrusting against her from behind. The screams grew louder and all I could think was that I was going to come right here on stage in front of everyone, and I wasn’t even really having sex with her.

  The music began, building into its frenzied finale, and I stood, dragging Brooklyn up and tossing her over my shoulder, carrying her off stage.

  The house burst into applause, whistles, and cat calls. I didn’t put Brooklyn down, carrying her past the other dancers heading on stage and the crew, who were busy setting things up. Rounding the corner into the vacant hallway, I slowly slid her down my body before pinning her with my hips against the wall.

  “Brooklyn,” I said, shortly, out of breath. I wondered if she could feel my hard-on pulsating between us.

  “Six,” she replied, just as breathlessly.

  “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here. Last time I checked, you were underage.” She didn’t cower or look away, she just licked her lips, the action making me throb harder. “Don’t you know the Vegas strip is a dangerous place for a pretty girl like you?”

  “I’d be in danger anywhere that you are,” she replied evenly, pressing her hips harder into mine.

  I chuckled; realizing, in that moment, that the girl I’d pegged as sweet and shy had a bit of a tiger streak in her. “Careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire down there.”

  “A little heat never hurt anyone.” Her face was flushing wildly. She might talk big, but her skin said different things about her. Suddenly I wanted to know just how experienced she was.

  “Said like a person who’s never been burned by the fire.” I couldn’t help pressing back into her—challenging her. “It makes me wonder how many times you’ve been properly fucked.” I was getting in over my head talking to her this way. At this rate, I’d be headed into the bathroom to jack off this raging hard on before I could go back on stage.

  “Only once,” she replied, and jealousy seethed through me at her words. I wanted to kill whoever had taken her before me. “And it just happened live, on stage,” she added.

  Grinning, I leaned in closer, placing my mouth next to her ear. “Oh, sweetheart, didn’t you know? That was just foreplay.” Backing away, I looked at her.

  Her eyes held mine, stare for stare, searching. “You shouldn’t tease me and say things you don’t mean.”

  “I wouldn’t joke about something like this.” I trailed a hand down her arm, slipping my fingers into hers and linking them with mine. “Who are you here with tonight?”

  “About twenty girls for a bachelorette party,” she replied, her fingers tightening around mine. “Why?”

  “Do they know you’re underage?”

  “Of course. They’re the ones who got the fake ID for me. I didn’t even know about it until tonight.”

  “Where does your daddy think you are?” I could totally imagine Scott tearing the city apart looking for her.

  “Spending the night with Bailey after her sister’s bridal shower.”

  “Six!” Randy’s voice broke in between us. “Get moving or you’re going to miss your next call.”

  Sighing, I glanced at him. “Be right there.” Randy disappeared and I turned back to Brooklyn. “They let the women come meet us after the show and pay for pictures and stuff. Come meet me. Tell the guy taking the money you have a special invite from Six and he’ll let you past without paying.”

  “And then what?” she asked.

  “Then I’m going to see what I can do about extracting you from your friends for the rest of the night.”

  “Six!” Randy called again, reappearing around the corner. Reluctantly stepping away from Brooklyn, I gestured for Randy to take and escort her back to her seat.

  “Sorry. Duty calls. You’ll be there later?”

  She nodded, her eyes drifting lower and widening before she quickly turned away, hurrying toward Randy. Glancing down, I couldn’t help the wry chuckle. G-strings weren’t exactly the best things to conceal a hard on. I’d probably given everyone in the audience a show, popping out the top like this.

  Oh well, there was
nothing I could do about it now but take care of it. Glancing at the monitor on the wall behind me, I quickly hurried to the dressing room to grab my next costume before scurrying off to the bathroom.

  Chapter Eight

  Brooklyn

  Every spot on my body was tingling and had been for the last forty-five minutes, while I continued to watch the show. Was it sad that ten minutes with Six had trumped any kind of romantic, or even remotely sexual, experience of my life? Granted, I wasn’t sexually experienced, but I had kissed plenty of guys in my lifetime. I’d even had several “make out” sessions, but I was beginning to think I couldn’t call them that anymore. I’d never before felt the things Six had done to my body; and it made me wonder if the boys I’d known previously were just inept, or if I’d never really been attracted to them in the first place.

  Six—he was lust incarnate. Never had I wanted to strip myself bare for someone, spending most of my time with other guys trying to keep them from going too far. With Six, I simply wanted to be naked and let him touch me everywhere.

  My heated skin refused to stop blushing as I watched him continue to strut around the stage. When he wasn’t on stage, my mind was replaying the minutes I’d spent with him, feeling his hard toned body stroke me in such an overtly sexual manner. Places he’d pressed against me still thrummed with awareness, and I felt like something had been awakened inside me—some dormant creature I’d never know existed in me—something wild and carnal, and only Six was able to extinguish the flame.

  It scared me a little, too. He was all man—nothing like the guys I’d dated before now. I was afraid he’d be a fire that consumed me—that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him and he’d find me somehow lacking.

  Chiding myself for the fantasies, I reminded myself that just because he wanted to spend some time with me, it didn’t mean he wanted any kind of relationship. It was obvious he could probably walk away with any girl he wanted on any given night of the week. Sex was probably like a friendly handshake for him, something used often, and given freely to whoever wanted it; a simple meeting of bodies to slack a need.