A dark reddish spot about the size of a large token, inflamed and puffy, tracked from the edge of her eyebrow into her hairline, covering a good portion of her forehead. Reminiscent of the lucky Chinora blossom on Olentra, he’d loved to pick the small flower when he was a child.
“It rr…reminnnn…minds…mmmm…me…” He stopped. His heart pounded loud in his ears. She’d flustered him again, and he’d spoken without thought.
She blinked, but there was no pity in her gaze. Instead, her brow furrowed over her gorgeous brown eyes. “Of what? A piece of Ratling dung? I…I’d hoped you were different.” She took a step back.
Before he could respond, she bolted for the lockers, disappearing through the doorway.
Several long moments ticked by. He wasn’t sure why, but she was sensitive about the mark on her forehead. I should’ve finished telling her what it reminded me of. He wiped his hand over his face.
What made matters worse—he’d stuttered in front of her. She hadn’t teased him for his weakness nor pitied him. That was good, he’d had enough of both to last a lifetime.
Despite the knife twisting is his gut, his chest lightened. Maybe she could look past his problem, accept him for who he was inside. No…won’t happen. She’d walk away just like the others.
He clenched his jaw and ripped his towel off the chair, knocking it over.
The small piece of furniture clattered against the tile. An echo ricocheted around the empty room, chasing him along with his insecurity.
Seven
Behind the curtains in the Cosmic Cabaret, loud banter filled the air along with the rustle of clothes and the squeak of an occasional chair leg across the wooden floor. Excitement permeated the atmosphere, sending a welcome shot of adrenaline along Caleb’s nerves.
He lifted the dumbbell, curling the weight toward his chest—once, twice, three times. Bicep curls were an integral part of his pre-performance routine, and tonight was a sold out show. He smiled, anticipation filling his chest as it always did before an act.
“Hey, my friend, show starts in ten decitons. Get a move on.” Antoine clapped Caleb on the back.
Caleb placed his weights back in the rack and read from his contacts. “Don’t fret. I’ll be there.”
“Of that, I have no doubt.” Antoine grabbed a bottle from a wide selection of ointments situated on one of the makeup stations. With a quick flick of his thumb, he opened the lid and poured a few droplets of oil onto his palm. “Want some?”
“Sure.” Caleb held out his hand.
Antoine tilted the bottle, and the slick lubricant pooled in Caleb’s cupped palm. He rubbed his hands together and applied the liquid over his bare chest and abs. Under the lights, his skin glowed.
After replacing the bottle on the counter, Antoine leaned in and nodded toward Kenton. “I’d like to have his job someday.”
Caleb followed his friend’s gaze. In a pair of dress pants, white shirt, and tailored jacket, Kenton wore the costume for the first show. His muscles bulged in the sleeves, evidence of the strength and power he possessed. With determined strides, he hurried between the other performers, his promoter Alicin not far behind.
In her hand, she carried her personal device. Kenton stopped long enough to glance at it and nodded. She pursed her lip and glared at him. He winked at her and said something, but they were too far away for Caleb to hear their conversation. His guess—Alicin wanted Kenton to read the speech he’d give at the end of the show encouraging the crowd to come to the next performance. Kenton, well…he liked to improvise.
Dread’s cold fingers toyed with Caleb’s lungs, squeezing them tight. He shook his head. “Yeah, that’d be a dream, wouldn’t it?”
“Performers on stage in five decitons!” Alicin strode by, her high heels clicking on the polished floor.
Antoine’s gaze flicked over Caleb. “You don’t look ready. Guess I’ll beat you there.” With a quick wink, he strutted toward the curtains. The muscles in his back and shoulders rolled as he moved.
Caleb ground his teeth. Antoine’s competitive streak irked him, but the guy was good at heart. Concentrating on the oil, Caleb rubbed the slick solution along his shoulders and arms. The movement brought back memories of Adara and how her fingers had traced a similar path over his skin.
He shook his head. She was a distraction he didn’t need. Instead, he focused on loosening his muscles, letting himself drift into the zone. Easier said than done.
“Dancers, last warning. Stage goes live in two decitons.” Alicin’s shrill voice pierced the din.
Caleb forced Adara from his mind, pulled on his costume, and headed for the stage.
“Over here.” Cali tugged on Adara’s sleeve. The blouse’s material bunched at Adara’s wrist, exposing her bare shoulder. She yanked the cloth back in place and followed her friend. Dressed up for the night, a short skirt and high heels completed her outfit.
In the Cosmic Cabaret, the lights from above swirled in the infinite galaxy, casting bits of starlight over the theater.
“How about these?” Cali scooted into the row of seats and plopped in the second chair, leaving the one on the aisle for Adara. The seats were three rows from the front—perfect.
“Nice job, Cali.” Adara settled into her seat, relaxing against the soft cushions.
Her friend squeezed her arm and perused Adara’s new outfit. “You look fabulous.”
Adara ran her hand over her shirt’s sheer sleeves and down her tight skirt. The new clothing was the result of their earlier shopping excursion. The shops, filled with beautiful slacks, dresses, shirts, and skirts had netted her this brand new outfit.
She’d spied a new bathing suit she’d liked, too, a soft black synth-material with white stars scattered across the surface, but the swimwear had an astronomical price tag. As much as she’d wanted the little two-piece, she’d had to leave it behind.
She leaned back and rested her neck against the seat’s edge. “I’m glad you suggested we arrive early.”
“I wouldn’t miss this performance unless you told me I’d won a million credits…and even then, I’d have to think twice.” Cali waggled her eyebrows.
“Speaking of winning, let’s hope Randall stays on his roll. Sounds like the dice have been kind to him so far.” Adara crossed her fingers.
“When I caught up with him earlier, he’d promised we’d be here at least another couple of days.”
Adara hoped that were true. The longer they stayed, the more shows…and maybe another swim…with Caleb. Dang it, Adara. Stop it. Caleb had toyed with her birthmark, making her uncomfortable. Yet, she couldn’t forget his strength and gentle caress. Warmth settled into the juncture between her legs, and she squirmed in her seat.
“Excuse me.” A young woman with blue skin and long white hair stopped at the end of the aisle, pulling Adara from her musing.
Adara and Cali stood to let the lady and her entourage of five pass to fill the remaining seats in the row. Their loud laughter and friendly banter reminded Adara of the women in the temporary crew’s quarter she shared with Cali.
The rowdy gals were asleep when Adara returned to her room last night. Good thing, too. She didn’t want to answer any questions as to why her eyes were red. Damn you, Caleb. I thought you were different from other men. Yet, maybe she’d read him wrong…
The lights dimmed, brightened, and dimmed again. Time for the performance to start. Feminine titters and cheers rose from the crowd.
Adara glanced over her shoulder. Women of all different races, a few scattered men interspersed among them, filled every available spot. Even at the far end of the upper balcony, there wasn’t an empty seat.
Cali gripped Adara’s arm and they shared an excited giggle.
On stage, a woman dressed in a long evening gown, a high slit up the side exposing her long, toned legs, strutted forward. She smiled and crooked a finger, her long red nail reflecting in the spotlight.
Recognition flitted through Adara. This was the same prom
oter who’d stood at the top of a circular staircase after yesterday’s performance.
“Welcome, welcome, welcome to the Star-Studded Male Revue. Are you ready for a good time?”
A few shouts and giggles filled the cabaret, echoing off the walls.
The woman smiled, an easy, practiced grin. “That’s good. We have some…” she raised an eyebrow for dramatic effect, “attractive men ready to entice you with their special dance moves.”
More shrieks, a few catcalls, and several claps erupted from the crowd. Adara couldn’t pull her gaze from the woman.
“Just a few house rules before we begin. No image captures, no foul language, and last, but not least, no touching the performers.”
A few boos and hisses sparked throughout the theater.
The woman held up her hand, nodding her head as if she were in agreement. “I know, but the rules are there to protect our patrons, as well as our dancers. Enough now,” she waved her hand in the air and headed off-stage, “time to start the show.”
Music began.
Lights flooded the stage.
Eight
Fog rose across the stage. Red, green, gold, and silver lights turned the mist into a cosmic display of shimmering galaxies, stars, planets, and moons. Music, soft at first, grew as each moment passed. Adara’s chair vibrated from the force and added to the excitement tripping through her veins.
Abruptly, the crescendo ended, and three spotlights graced the stage.
A quiet engulfed the crowd.
Someone coughed.
On stage, a breeze swirled the mist around and around until the fine vapor dissipated. In its place stood a row of seven men dressed in loose, dark slacks and black military jackets. Legs spread apart, heads bowed, they hid their features behind their hats. Muscles straining against the material couldn’t hide the strength each possessed.
Screams erupted from the crowd.
Cali jumped from her seat, clapping her hands with wild enthusiasm.
Adara leaned forward and curled her fingers around the armrest.
The music started once again, a club beat pounding from the speakers. One by one, each man turned his back on the crowd. When they all faced the dark backdrop, they shimmied their legs. Their butts jiggled.
Screams and catcalls burst from the crowd.
Cali sat down and leaned close. “This is going to be so good!”
Adara nodded, but she couldn’t keep her mind from wandering to her dark-haired, sexy man at the pool.
In unison, the men faced the mob. They tossed their hats into the rows, revealing their features. Adara’s attention traced from one to the next until her gaze landed on the last man.
The muscles in her shoulders tensed.
No…no…no…
She placed her palms over her eyes. It can’t be him…no…please…
Lowering her hands, she peered at the last dancer. There was no mistaking his identity—Caleb.
A mixture of emotions roiled through her, tightening her chest, her gut, her fists. Is that how he seduced women? By playing the shy, innocent type? Once he’d seen her birthmark, he’d changed his mind, not wanting anything to do with her.
In the end, maybe the ugly discoloration was a blessing in disguise. No… Her heart screamed the word. She fisted her hand and pressed herself into her seat.
In a choreographed routine, the men flexed their muscles and gyrated their hips.
Adara bit her lip and, unable to look away, focused on Caleb. The tips of his dark hair teased his chin, accentuating his strong jaw and aquiline nose. With dramatic flair, he lowered his jacket over his shoulders. The coat bunched around his elbows, pulling his biceps and pectoral muscles taut against his tight black shirt.
Chants of “take it off” and “strip” filled the air.
Adara glanced at Cali and the other women in the row. They clapped and cheered, rooting for the dancers.
Adara wasn’t sure what to think. She’d never seen anything like this. A part of her wanted to run, flee the place. Another part kept her seated in her chair. Her gaze returned to Caleb. His coat was gone, and his muscles bulged under his shirt.
She compared him to the others. While all the men danced well, there was something special about Caleb. A light gleamed in his eyes, and oh, that smile, the one that could melt panties, graced his lips.
Warmth, sudden and unexpected, swelled from deep inside. He’s beautiful. Not just his physical appearance, but more so his passion, his love for dance shining through with every move. How could she reconcile the shy, quiet man she knew from the pool with this self-assured dancer?
Her heart skipped a beat. Maybe he’d just wanted to talk to her, but couldn’t. Hope fluttered in her stomach, and she pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting the sting of hot tears. With sheer force of will, she blinked them away and returned her attention to the stage.
The men formed into a line, legs spread apart. Caleb gripped his shirt collar. When the music hit a crescendo, he ripped the material in two. His chiseled bare chest and ripped abs glistened in the light.
Hoots and hollers erupted from the crowd.
With slow and deliberate intent, Caleb clasped his pants, right below his waist. He gyrated his hips, circling with a seductive allure.
Adara imagined gripping his hard shaft as he moved beneath her. Whoa…stop. Where had that come from?
Quick and sharp, he ripped the pants from his legs and tossed them to the stage. The cloth slid across the polished wood floor. Underneath, all he wore was a G-string, the cup covering his manhood.
Wow, what a package.
He turned his back to the crowd and shook his behind. Dimples formed in the contours of his cheeks.
Adara shoved her hands under her legs, afraid if she didn’t, she’d reach toward him despite the distance, eager to stroke the small concave.
Cali stood and grabbed Adara’s arm, pulling her to her feet.
One by one, the dancers pranced down the stairs and into the crowd. The first one, a guy with green skin and blond hair cascading around his shoulders, stopped six rows in. He pointed to a lady seated at the end of the aisle. She nodded, and before she could say a word, he stepped up onto the armrests and stood over her. With great fanfare, he gyrated his hips for the raucous crowd.
Another man strutted farther down the center aisle. A third aimed for the far side of the theater, and Caleb turned toward her and Cali.
Adara’s throat constricted. She couldn’t breathe. Her heart pounded loud enough to drown out the music.
Caleb stopped in front of a woman in the front row. With all the patrons standing, Adara could only make out his head and shoulders. He smiled, and the gleam in his eyes was bright enough to go nova. The lady raised her hands as if to touch him, but he gently pushed her fingers aside.
Spots flashed in Adara’s vision, and she mentally thanked the ones who established the no touching policy.
He winked at the woman and continued on his way, dancing past several others.
Don’t turn up this aisle…go on to the next section.
If she’d had any sort of telepathy, she would’ve beamed him her thoughts. As if in spite of her protests, he turned down her aisle, approaching at a rapid pace.
Time seemed to slow.
His gaze passed over the women in the second row.
Adara leaned back. Cali pushed her forward.
Caleb’s gaze drew to her. Recognition flitted over his features. His smile faltered.
I wasn’t wrong. He’s rejecting me, yet again. With trembling fingers, she yanked a few strands of hair over her birthmark.
“Ad…d…da..rrra…” He backed away.
Heat crept up her face. Shame pricked tears behind her eyes.
The music’s volume increased.
He retreated the way he came. The other dancers joined him on stage, and a few beats later the music ended.
Lights dimmed and cheers erupted from the crowd.
Adara slumped to her
seat, her humiliation complete.
The muscles in Caleb’s legs shook. He placed his hand against the backstage curtain, and the cool synthetic material was a welcome relief against his hot and sweaty palm. Droplets of perspiration dripped from his chin, landing on the smooth wooden stage. With enough force to ignite a reactor, he pushed himself away and fisted his hand.
Shit!
He’d performed his dance like any other night, waltzing into the crowd to give the women a little thrill, up close and personal. Finding Adara in the mass, so near he could reach out and touch her, was not something he’d anticipated.
“Hey, Caleb. Next routine starts in three decitons.” Antoine walked past, pulling his suspenders over his bare shoulders. He raised an eyebrow and glanced down Caleb’s near naked body.
Caleb ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to return to the stage, not while Adara was out there. He’d embarrassed her and that bothered him, but he had little choice. He shook his head. “Yeah, I’m on it.”
Time to change.
Nearby, his costumes hung from his rack like lonely sentinels. He grabbed the yellow coveralls from the hanger and shoved one leg in then the other. With a quick yank, he tugged the red suspenders over his shoulders, grabbed the sledgehammer—the prop for the next dance—and met his counterparts behind the curtain.
Caleb’s gaze tore to Kenton. He wore a similar outfit, yet his pants were red and his suspenders yellow, signifying him as the lead for the next routine. As the spokesman for the entire troupe, he claimed all the best roles. Caleb’s throat went dry, a mixture of envy and trepidation of the man’s job playing havoc with Caleb’s nerves.
Applause and cheers filtered under the curtain. A second squad of performers emerged around the backdrop, their routine complete. The men raced to their stations to prepare for the next act.
Antoine nudged Caleb, studying him with his dark eyes. “What happened out there?”
Adrenaline surged through Caleb. He summoned a response and read from his contacts. “Not sure what you mean.”
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