Hidden in the Stars (Falling Stars #2) (7 page)

The waitress stops by the table two more times before Red finally shows. He's wearing the same shitty grin he was yesterday.

"Where's Xavier?" Red asks, sliding into the booth.

"He just took off. Got some shit to take care of," I say, keeping it short. That story ain't mine to tell.

"His loss." Red motions to a waitress, who eagerly comes at his call. As the curvy, dark haired girl scurries off to the bar, Red settles into the leather. "So, it's all set. The transfer of the club should happen next month."

"Congrats, man."

"Thom's letting them know about the official ownership change before the show. Afterward, we'll head back so I can formally introduce myself."

"You haven't met the girls yet?" I raise one brow.

"As a customer, not as the new owner. I want them to be assured their jobs are safe. I mean, I have a few ideas for this place, but I'm not going to do an overhaul. Mostly, I want to get some better PR and curb appeal. I'm also going to see about some celebrity guests and shit." He shrugs.

"Sounds like a good start." I nod.

The waitress returns with drinks and takes my empty glasses.

"You think Mia or Hush would be interested?"

My eyes shoot to Red's face to make sure he's serious. I can't hold back my laughter.

"What?" he asks around his beer bottle.

"You think Chris is going to let Mia on that stage in lingerie?" I laugh, slapping the table.

"Who says I'm asking Chris?" Red lifts one shoulder with a mischievous grin.

Taking deep breathes, I calm my laughter.

"Just be prepared for him to charge the stage and carry her off. That's all I'm saying." I take a pull from the long neck bottle.

"Could be worth the publicity," Red states just before the lights dim and music fills the air.

"This is new," Red says to my back, but I'm already captivated.

Her voice already has me by the balls.

"I know you want me," she half sings, half purrs at center stage.

She's naked, except for black, silk, bandage-like straps around her chest and black, silk panties. Sheer panels sway around the platform she stands on. Backups sing "erotic" repetitiously from large, silk-covered platforms around the stage.

Wrapping her body in a sheer panel, the bandage-like strips fall away, giving a barely visible view of her body. She moans and I press my palm to my crotch to ease the pressure.

Again, she sings, "I know you want me."

Fuck yes, I want her. This show can't end quickly enough.

Chapter Five

Liza

"Jesus, girl, you were on fire tonight!" Bethany, or Miz Bette to the audience, sits at the cluttered dressing table next to mine.

Still catching my breath from the last performance, I only nod.

Bethany, Jazzmin, and I share the dressing room. It's the largest of the four private backstage rooms. We all do quick touch ups and changes in the common area, but for the most part, we each have our own dressing table. But with the news from Thom this evening, Jazzmin’s table would probably be empty soon.

"Do you think this guy is really going to be good for the club like Thom says?" Bethany asks, stripping the layers of stage makeup from her face.

"I don't know."

With a shrug, I sit up, take out a makeup removal wipe, and follow Bethany's lead.

"Ladies, can I please have you out in the main area?" Thom calls from outside our door.

In all the years I've worked in the club, not once has Thom walked in without knocking and waiting for a response.

Dropping the wipe, I stand, tying my robe tighter.

"How do I look?" Bethany asks, her hand grabbing my arm and pulling.

Turning to her, I see where she started removing her eyelash and tried to get it back on.

"Lean forward." I wave her toward me.

She does as I ask and I use my fingernails to put her lash back into proper place. Reaching over to my table, I grab a tissue and wipe around her eyes to even out the leftover makeup.

"There, all good." I smile to reassure.

She tightens her robe and we exit to the common area.

The rest of the girls and stage crew have already formed a circle in the common area. Bethany pushes her way through to the front, pulling me along behind. When she stops short, I bump into her.

"Beth," I hiss.

Stepping to the left and pulling me to her right side, I see why she stopped.

Center of the circle is Thom, Jazzmin at his side. And with them is the new owner of Lux.

"Thank you, everyone, for gathering so quickly. I know you all want to get out of here, but I feel it's important for you to formally meet the new owner." Thom motions to the wide-shouldered, tattoo-covered man with a shaved head, but it's the giant, lickable body art next to him capturing my attention. Jackson Shaw. And Jackson Shaw is looking right at me. Our eyes meet and a small twitch of his lip sends my heart into erratic palpitation. Thom speaks again and it's a physical effort to look away from Jackson.

"This is Steven Redman. Mr. Redman will officially own the club next month. However, you will see him for the next few weeks backstage, in the offices, behind the bar, so forth. Please be sure to treat him as you would me…well, perhaps a bit more boss-like." Thom smiles. "Mr. Redman, do you have anything you would like to add?"

The wide, thick wall of man takes one step forward. I fight to keep my attention on my new boss, instead of the man I can still
feel
looking at me.

"First of all, call me Red. No, mister or other shit. Second, I don't want any of you worrying about jobs. I'm not here to overhaul. I have some ideas, but none of them involve getting rid of staff. If you do your job and do it well, you’ve got nothing to worry about. You got me?" He looks around the room. "I said, you got me?"

Yesses come from all around the group.

"Christ, people, relax. No one's going to bite." His eyes shift toward where Beth and I stand. "Unless you want me to." He winks.

I blink at the comment. Beth giggles and I can't help but smile.

Subconsciously, my eyes move to Jackson. He's scowling at Red.

"Okay, with that out of the way, as Thom here mentioned, I'll be around, so don't be surprised if I ask you some questions. You guys are the experts back here, so I'm looking to learn from you. By the way, great show, everyone." Red turns and stops halfway.

"Oh, I forgot. This tall fucker is Jackson Shaw." Red throws a thumb in his direction. "Don't be surprised if you see him or other singers and bands around. I've been in the industry for a while, so I know some people." He winks, giving another smile.

Red turns to Thom and begins talking privately. The group takes this as the time to break up and go about our close up routines.

"If this place is going to fill up with celebrities, I'm going to fall off the stage," Beth whines. "I'll be a hot mess."

"You'll be fine." I loop my arm in hers.

"Beth, Liza," Thom calls.

We turn as he approaches with Red and—God help me—Jackson Shaw. I force my eyes to stay on Thom and not the tall, lean, billboard of naughty sin.

"Ladies, great job tonight." He smiles.

"Thank you," we reply in unison.

"This is Bethany and Liza, or Miz Bette and Miz Liz." Thom motions to each of us.

"It's a pleasure to meet you." Red extends his hand toward us.

Bethany takes it first, squeaking when he pulls her forward to kiss her hand.

Thom frowns for a second, but clears the look before stepping between Red and Beth, and reaching for a clipboard I know he doesn't really need.

"You both did fantastic tonight," Red praises.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the performance," I respond.

"Girl, you have a voice many singers would kill for." He smiles.

"Thanks." The heat climbing into my cheeks makes me uncomfortable.

"She was on fire tonight," Beth adds, wrapping an arm around my waist.

"It did get pretty hot." The drawl of Jackson's words sets off a flurry of butterflies in my stomach. Our eyes meet and the room fades away around us.

"Thom, we have a problem with the control board for the mirror stages." A crew member appears, breaking the moment.

Jesus, Liza.
I shake my head.
Quit acting like a twit who's never seen a boy before.

"Okay, I'll be right there." Thom nods.

"No, let's go now," Red insists, then turns to Jackson. "You good for a minute?"

As hard as I try not to, I look right at Jackson.

"Yep," he answers, keeping his eyes on me.

How can one word, one simple everyday slang word, melt my insides?

"Oh my," Beth whispers next to me.

At least I'm not the only one acting like a star-struck teenage girl.

Thom and Red walk away to examine the control board and Jackson Shaw takes one step…then two. I unknowingly back up, pressing myself against the wall beside the dressing room door.

His body is flush against mine, blue eyes boring into mine, trapping me in a lusty trance.

"Tell me, Liza, where do you go after you've seduced every person in the audience?"

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My throat is so dry, I pant like an idiot.

From the corner of my eye, his long, inked fingers capture my hair, twirling it until it’s wound tight and pulling. For a moment, I fear the extension will fall out into his hand.

"Home," I blurt, grabbing the strand of hair from his fingers.

"Home," he repeats.

Finally, his eyes release mine and search my face. While he does this, I inspect the intricate lines and swirls of ink on his neck, until his art-covered limbs raise and trap me against the wall. His forearms on both sides of my head bring his face closer to mine. I press back, trying to create more space. My lips are so dry, but I resist the urge to lick them.

"What about breakfast?" His warm breath wafts across my lips, a touch of beer scenting his question.

Unable to fight my chapping lips any longer, I wet them. His eyes drop to my mouth and I quickly pull my tongue back inside.

"What about it?" The question comes out as a whisper of sound.

One side of his mouth lifts and I bite my tongue, fighting the urge to lick his half-grin.

"Have breakfast with me." It's not a question.

The slight pull tells me he's playing with my real hair, the carefully created curls slipping through his fingers. When his fingertips touch my scalp, I swallow a whimper. The act is so simple, but affectionate. And intended or not, it's been so long since I've received an affectionate gesture from a man.

"I really need—”

One of his fingers touches my cheek, tracing an invisible line to my bottom lip, surprising me.

"It's just breakfast," he says, watching his finger move over my chin and down my neck.

I grab his wrist.

"I really need to go home."

He looks from my hold on his wrist to my eyes and grins. Dropping his other arm from the wall, he places a hand on my waist. I tense.

"I'll have you home after breakfast." His body moves closer. "I promise."

"Th-th-thanks," I stutter, "but I can't—”

"Have breakfast with me, Liza."

The way he says my name makes my insides melt to goo. This is Jackson fucking Shaw and he wants to take me out for breakfast…or eat me for breakfast. I'm not sure which is the real offer, but I'm pretty sure I'm hoping for the latter.

The fingers of his right hand are back, twirling my extensions again.

"You know I don't look like this outside of the club, right?" I keep my eyes on his fingers, mesmerized by the way they move through the hair.

"I would hope you don't go out dressed in a robe," he chuckles.

"No, I mean, the costumes, the makeup, the hair."

His fingers untangle from the extensions and grip my chin. Bringing my face to his, he leans in closer.

"It's not the costume I want…" my breath catches, "to eat breakfast with," he finishes, a sly smile on his lips.

Suddenly, I feel like Little Red Riding Hood being seduced by the Big Bad Wolf. A seduction I'm falling into head first. A seduction I should turn from and never look back.

He licks his bottom lip and the heat of his tongue radiates against my bottom lip.

I nod. "Okay."

He leans forward, his body pressing against mine, his lips a breath from mine.

"How long do you need?"

I want to gulp down the words passing over my skin.

"Thirty—”

He pushes away before I even finish. My body arches, following his retreat, causing him to smile wide. Walking backward, his eyes never leave mine.

"I'll meet you out front in thirty minutes."

"You know I won't be wearing the corset, right?"

"This time," he responds, sucking on his lip ring before disappearing.

Closing my eyes, I lean back against the wall. Every part of my body pulses, some more so than others.

I just sold my soul…well, my body, all because his tongue almost touched my lip.

"Oh. My. God." Jennifer's voice causes me to open my eyes.

Groaning, I realize the audience we've had the whole time.

"I don't know how you held out as long as you did," Beth sighs from the door of our dressing room.

"I thought he would just fuck you against the wall." Nikki stands, wide-eyed and fanning herself.

I groan again and slip past Beth into our dressing room.

What am I doing? This is so stupid.

"Girl, what are you going to wear?" Beth is right on my heels. I can hear the smile in her voice.

"I don't know." I throw myself into my chair and look into the mirror. "What the hell am I thinking?" I ask the painted reflection.

"You’re thinking he's Jackson Shaw and you have been thoroughly seduced." Jennifer, or Madame J, as she's known on stage, appears to the left of my mirror.

"I can't do this." I shake my head.

"He's waiting right outside for you," Beth states, pointing toward the door.

"There's no way he's letting you get away." Nikki, also known as Lady Nikle, adds, entering the room with clothes over her arm. "We all saw the determination in that man."

"What are those for?" I furrow my brow at the clothes.

"You can't meet him in the leggings and tunic you wore to work today."