The Storm Before the Calm (13 page)

“Are all those people here to see you?” I asked, kind of in awe over the whole thing.

Max laughed. “No. Those people are here to get drunk and get laid. This isn’t like a typical show where the dancer is the star. It’s a dance club, not a strip club. I’m just background entertainment—there for decoration more than anything else. I still have a few minutes before I have to get changed. Why don’t I take you upstairs and show you around before they let the hooligans in?”

“Yes, please.”

He dumped his backpack on the floor near a set of lockers and showed me the main staircase into the club. They surfaced in the back room behind the bar, where it looked like all the extra bottles of liquor were kept, and off to one side was a small office with a computer on a beaten-up looking desk and a couple of drab-colored filing cabinets. I could already hear the music pumping, and as Max took me through the doors from the back to behind the bar, I could see why people were already lined up. The place was amazing.

There were booths draped on each side in pure white fabric and a couple of high tables that lined the wall opposite the bar, and in each corner there was a small stage with a shiny metal pole that reached from the stage floor to the extra-high ceilings.

The bar itself was the focal point of the room. The front of it was glass, and behind it were tropical plants that grew along the entire length. It was lit from behind and covered with a long slab of white-and-gray marble. The wall behind the bar also stretched from floor to ceiling with shelf after shelf of backlit bottles and one of those huge ladders on wheels I’d seen in photos of fancy libraries.

In the center of the spacious room was a dance floor, cordoned off by a set of wrought iron dividers with intricate patterns. An oversized chandelier hung from the ceiling, illuminating the space in soft light, contrasting the vibrant blue lights that danced around the entire club. High on the wall to the right of the bar there was a large Juliet balcony draped in the same white fabric as the booths.

I couldn’t get over how large the place was. From the outside it seemed so small and unassuming. If I’d been walking down the street, there’s no way I would have taken notice.

“This place is incredible,” I breathed, barely audible over the steady thump of the beat.

“Pretty swanky, huh?” Max commented. “I’m lucky to have gotten a job here, actually. There isn’t much ‘classy’ work for pole dancers, if you know what I mean.”

He made air quotes around the word classy to emphasize his point. I did know what he meant. The fact that he wouldn’t be stripping tonight came as a great relief to me. The jealousy I’d felt at the thought of people seeing him on the pole at all was rampant enough without the added nudity factor. Call me crazy, but I didn’t think it was right for a bunch of strangers to see him naked before I had.

“I had no idea it would be like this.”

“Wait until you see it in full swing.” Max glanced down at his watch. “I should probably get back to the dressing room to get changed. I’m gonna grab a quick drink, though. You want something?”

Call me a goody-goody, but I’d never had anything alcoholic to drink. It wasn’t that I was opposed to it or trying to be particularly pure, but the opportunity had never arisen. When you go through high school without being invited to a single party, it’s easy to keep your alcohol virginity.

“Uhh…,” I stammered, but Max was already making his way over to the bar.

“This is Meredith,” he said, gesturing to the tall woman behind the bar with sleek black hair and elaborate eye makeup. “She’ll hook you up with whatever you want to drink. Meredith, this is Charlie.”

“Hey there, handsome. It’s nice to meet you. What can I get for you?”

I stared forward blankly. I felt like an idiot. What did people drink in clubs? “Um, whatever Max is having, I guess.”

Meredith quirked a little smile at me. “You got it. The usual, honey?”

Max nodded. “That’d be great. Loosen me up a little.”

She grabbed a couple of bottles and poured a little of each one skillfully into a metal shaker with a scoopful of ice. She closed it up with a glass and shook it with efficient movements. Then she tipped the shaker over and poured the liquid into two short glasses.

I watched intently as Max threw the shot back, taking it down in one gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. I never knew watching someone take a shot could be sexy, but with Max it was.

I picked up my glass and mimicked what I’d seen Max do, throwing my head back and pouring the liquid into my mouth. It was sweet and hot at the same time, burning the back of my throat as I swallowed it down. I tried my best to suppress the cough that burst forth from my lungs at the revolting taste, but I couldn’t, instead hacking and gagging.

“Whoa, easy there, Sparky,” Max said, rubbing my back.

I wished the floor would open up and swallow me down. I was mortified. It was bad enough Max knew I was this little inexperienced virgin from Nowhere, South Dakota, but I couldn’t even handle one little shot? So humiliating.

“I’m good,” I spat out. “Went down the wrong tube.” I covered my mouth and coughed again, trying to hide the fact that I was so raw at life in general.

“Good. I should get going or I’m gonna be late starting, and Mario doesn’t much like when we’re late,” Max said, ushering me toward the back.

“Nice to meet you,” I called to Meredith, and she gave me a little wave as we disappeared through the swinging door.

B
ACK
IN
the changing room, Max retrieved his backpack from the floor and unzipped it. Then he lifted his shirt by the hem, whipping it over his head before stuffing it into his bag. His shorts came next, unbuttoned, zipper pushed down and fabric shoved over his hips, then jammed into the bag. He stood before me wearing nothing but a tiny pair of black shorts, shorts so short they barely covered anything at all. A rainbow band ran the circumference of Max’s waist, and just below, a small opening—a peephole—just above where his dick would be. I could see the short dark hairs beneath, and I couldn’t tear my eyes away.

When I finally managed to drag my gaze away from that little glimpse of forbidden skin, I found Max staring at me, an intent look painted on his face.

“Sorry…,” I said, suddenly self-conscious for having been caught staring.

“Charlie.”

One word, just my name, before Max was on top of me, kissing me and touching me and holding me up against the wall while he did it. I couldn’t move—didn’t want to—as Max took me over and made me his. I’d never felt passion like the passion that emanated easily from him.

He kissed my neck, sucking hard at my collarbone, marking me below the fabric of my shirt.

“Want you so bad,” he murmured against my skin. “When you look at me like that…. Just wanna eat you alive.”

I whimpered. I wanted that too; I just never could have brought myself to say it.

“You gotta tell me, though, if this is too fast,” he said, his words punctuated with licks and kisses against my shoulder and the crux where it met my neck. “Too fast and I’ll slow down. I’ll stop. I promise. But you gotta say, because I can’t….”

I groaned and angled my hips, grinding the hard length of my erection against him. I couldn’t tell him what I wanted, but I hoped I could show him.

The lights flickered in the room.

“Fuck,” Max cursed. “I gotta go. This is not finished. We’re going to pick up where we left off as soon as I’m done.”

“Yes” was all I could say. I was light-headed and proud of myself for even managing that one tiny word. Max grabbed my hand and pulled me behind him as he made his way back up the stairs and through the back room. He pulled a stool out at the bar nearest one of the stages and told me to sit.

“Stay here. Watch me. I’ll come for you when I’m finished.” He paused. “And you’ll come for me.” He winked and kissed me hard, then turned on his heels and jogged up to the stage. I was too stunned to notice how busy the club had become in the few minutes we’d been gone.

Gobs of people had merged into a solid mass in the center of the room, dancing and gyrating to the music that played loudly over the speakers. The lights were wild, angling up and down, side to side in seemingly random patterns. Meredith was racing around behind the bar, pouring drink after drink, usually two at a time, smiling and flirting with the boys, who had absolutely no interest in her.

But as soon as Max stepped up on that stage, everything else faded away, and all I could see was him. The routine he did was familiar, similar to the one he’d done earlier that day for me in the studio. He was on fire tonight, though, adding a little extra wiggle in his hips, touching his body more than he had before. He played it up, but his eyes were on me the whole time.

I could feel them boring into me, burning me, branding me. There was no question about how he felt in that moment. I felt the same. As beautiful as he was and as artistic and athletic as his performance was, all I wanted was for it to be over. The other men in the club were watching him, and all I wanted was to get him alone to finish what we had begun in the dressing room.

The song stretched on infinitely as Max wound his way around the pole, flipping and spinning himself into all kinds of contorted positions, upside down, right side up, and sideways, until finally,
finally
he was finished. He took a little bow and bounded off the stage, beelining straight for me.

“Done?” I asked, desperate and hopeful.

“Almost. Break, and then I gotta do one more set.”

I stifled the need to groan and tried to hide my disappointment. The club was amazing. It was slick and sleek and something I never would have experienced without Max, but all I wanted to do was get out of there. I wanted Max and me to go somewhere alone together where we didn’t have to shout to be heard. I wanted to be able to touch him and have him touch me.

Chapter Fifteen

“C
OME
ON
,”
Max said, taking my hand and pulling me off the chair. “I wanna dance with you.”

I was reluctant. When it came to jettés and tendus, I was your guy, but club dancing? I had never mastered the art. Hell, I’d never danced with anyone before. But Max was adamant and led us through the crowd of people, pushing his way to nearly the center. The group moved en masse, swaying and grinding up against one another. So many of the men were beautiful, but I couldn’t take my eyes off Max.

Still in nothing but a pair of booty shorts, his skin was slick with sweat, making it glisten under the blue lights. He turned, pulling me against him, and wedged one of his legs between mine. His hands flew to my ass, pulling me impossibly closer, and moved me with him to the music. His mouth was next to my ear, and all I could hear was the quickened pace of his breathing.

I closed my eyes and let the feelings take over, much as I had when it was just the two of us in the studio. This wasn’t that different, to be honest. Max was there, anchoring me to him, grounding me, the center of my everything. I was focused on him and him alone.

His hands traveled over my body, dipping beneath my shirt to slide along the skin of my back, up and over my shoulders. No space existed between us; we were pressed together from thighs to chest. I loved the feeling of it, our bodies moving together back and forth, and with every passing moment, I felt crazier for him.

“This okay?” he said against my ear.

I nodded. This was more than okay. We were surrounded by people, but somehow I didn’t feel self-conscious here. The fear and apprehension of being discovered, of other people learning my secret, had long since melted away. It was probably that we were surrounded by other men who were dancing much the same way we were. I took a moment to focus my eyes and look around. There were couples grinding together, kissing one another, and even a few with hands down one another’s pants. I didn’t know if I wanted to take it that far in public, but kissing? That I could do.

I slid my hands into Max’s hair, pulling his head back and holding him still while I stretched up to slant my mouth across his. I pushed my tongue into the warmth of his mouth, taking control of him and the kiss in one small movement. I felt him groan against me more than I heard it as he kissed me back harder. It was bruising and lustful and everything I’d been craving since we’d walked into this place.

I felt comfortable here, safe in my anonymity and secure in how I felt about the man in my arms.

A long time later and yet far too soon, Max broke the kiss and told me he’d have to get back to do one more set before he was off for the night. It was after midnight, and my energy was beginning to dip. I had no idea how he still possessed the drive to get back up on the pole for another show, but I was more than content to watch him.

We made our way back through the crowd to the bar, and I was lucky enough to snag a bar stool again that had a good view of the stage. He kissed me before he left, his lips lingering against mine before he turned and took his place once more. I watched him intently, still as hungry for him as I had been before our dance together. I barely noticed when Meredith came over and yelled to me.

“Want anything to drink?” she asked.

I shook my head. “No, thanks.” The shot she had given me before had settled in my limbs, making them feel heavy and hot. For a while after, I’d felt slightly dulled—a little slower than usual—and I wanted to be totally with it for the rest of the night. I didn’t know what was going to happen after Max finished his shift, but I had a fair idea of where I wanted things to go. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself, but after nineteen years of denying who I was and pretending I didn’t feel the way I did, letting it all go now was like a torrent of feeling barreling down on me, and I needed some sort of outlet.

I schooled my thoughts, reminding myself I probably shouldn’t dive in and break all my barriers down in one night, but it was difficult to rein in how I felt about Max. It had been such a short time, but my emotions had evolved and reproduced, doubling in size in what felt like minutes until they overtook me completely. I was falling. I was falling hard, and there was nothing I could do to slow myself down.