Allure (Mercenaries Book 1)

by Tony Lavely

  “They will be fine, Nancy. You may not remember your first experience as an exotic dancer, but they both do. So far, I believe that they believe that it leaves quite a lot to be desired.”

  “Really,” both girls said simultaneously.

  “We’ll see,” Nancy said. “So, they go on, jus’ like Nigel told you, soon as Beth comes off.” Waving at them, she asked, “Is that what you’re to wear?” At their nods, she went on, “Beth’ll rap on the door to let you know. You know what to do after that, then, right?”

  They both nodded uncertainly, and she turned and left, leaving the door open.

  Beckie dropped heavily to the single chair. Melissa leaned against the door frame. The music peaked and died; as it did, Melissa turned to see the lights go down. Jamse saw Beth step through the bead curtain and look over at Melissa. She gestured that the stage was free. Melissa waved to Beckie. Beckie sighed, rose and gave Melissa a little push toward the curtain.

  From his position next to the doorway, Jamse saw Nancy waiting at the light control, giving Melissa a little time to get out front before bringing the stage lights up. Nancy walked away, muttering, “I hope those bastards know what they’re going to get tonight.” She noticed him standing still. “I hope you know what you’re doin’.” He answered silently, I share that hope. But more, I hope the return justifies the cost.

  Out on the stage, Melissa found she could barely hear the audience over the raucous music, and the lights effectively blinded her whenever she looked out over the house. Without realizing it, she was swaying to the music. It took a second to remember why she was there, then she started undoing the buttons of her blouse, one at a time. She didn’t drop the garment once it was open, but instead slowly unzipped her skirt. The skirt did drop out of her fingers, as if unintentionally, and her panties could be seen under the tails of the blouse. She unhooked her bra, pushing it aside so she could press her hands against her breasts, fearing that compared to Nancy’s or Beth’s, they weren’t very attractive at all.

  The music changed, somehow. She hadn’t been listening, so was only aware that it was different. She slipped her hands into her panties, hooking the waistband with her thumbs, slowly forcing them down, over her hips, then the swell of her buttocks, finally exposing the tangle of fine blonde hair. She stood upright and flipped the panties away with her foot.

  Arms came around her; Beckie slid her hands over Melissa’s breasts, then pulled the blouse and bra away, leaving her nude. Melissa started when Beckie leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

  She turned to face Beckie and slowly unbuttoned her shirt, while Beckie caressed Melissa’s face, coming close to again kiss her. Once the last button was undone, Melissa skipped away, in time to the music, leaving Beckie alone in the center of the stage in the brilliant light. She stopped by the proscenium arch with her foot pulled up, knee pointing toward Beckie, watching her friend.

  Beckie dropped the shirt on the floor behind her, turning away from the lights as she unhooked her bra and threw it toward Melissa. She hiked up her skirt so she could remove her panties; having done so, she danced briefly with the skirt pulled up before stopping next to Melissa. The girls hugged, finishing with an apparently warm kiss. Nancy brought the lights down.

  On the black stage, the two girls, shaking in each other’s arms, headed uncertainly toward the faint light behind Jamse and the beads. They left the stage without picking up the clothing they had discarded.

  Mike was frozen during Melissa’s performance. While he recalled seeing a glimpse of her in Hawai’i, she’d stayed pretty much completely clothed while they spent time together. He was mesmerized by her appearance. He felt a typical male reaction as he watched Beckie caressing Melissa’s breasts.

  DeVeel asked quietly if he was all right, if he wanted to leave. There was a moment of guilt as Mike knew that he wanted to stay, to see as much of the girls as he could, but was confident that staying for that reason might not be the right thing. He decided that leaving was out of the question, since he did want to stay, and since he might be needed. He hoped. He shook his head to deVeel in dissent, who in turn nodded acceptance back.

  Mike watched Beckie as intently as he had Melissa. He had seen considerably more of Beckie in Hawaii; he noted the minor changes that the intervening months had made. Her breasts were a little fuller and what he could see of her hips looked more womanlike than they had. Her ribs didn’t show through her skin as much as they had, unless she raised her arms. He found that, while she was every bit as nice to look at as Melissa, his reactions weren’t as strong as when he watched Melissa.

  He followed deVeel’s lead, applauding perfunctorily as the girls left the darkened stage, then turning back to the bar instead of becoming entranced by Nancy, who was now removing the costume she had donned before stepping on stage. He finished his watery drink, ignored since the spotlight had illuminated Melissa, and signaled the girl behind the bar for another. DeVeel reminded her about ice, then ordered a second lager for himself, explaining to Mike the differences between the British beers, and that lager is the only one regularly served ‘chilled,’ as he liked it.

  Mike ignored the comments on beer as he peeked at the next dancer, then focused on deVeel as the man scanned the audience.

  “Trying to see anything… unusual,” he muttered when Mike touched his arm. “But the light…”

  Mike agreed. Almost the only illumination was reflected from the dancer’s body. He sipped his drink, occasionally glancing back to the girl on stage as she became more nude.

  A touch on his arm brought his head around to stare at deVeel. “I’m gonna head to the Gent’s, see what we’ve got, if anything.”

  Between dancers, Mike asked for another Coke, but recalling deVeel’s advice, he turned back to watch the other patrons and the girls balancing their trays as they roamed among the small tables, serving drinks and clearing empties, waiting for their own turn on stage.

  During the next forty-five minutes, Mike sat on the increasingly uncomfortable stool, watching the turnover in the audience. It’s almost like they know when they’re gonna repeat, he thought. Breaks between dances were short; he didn’t have a lot of time to ponder before another dance started. Except for the different girls, the dances seemed pretty similar to him. He began to wonder what was taking deVeel so long, and… Where did they get all the good looking girls—and convince them to strip? What are Melissa and Beckie doing?

  He was surprised by his relief when deVeel finally returned and propped himself on the stool to order another lager. He took a long draft of the beer, then turned toward the stage.

  “You should get out and into the car as soon as the girls get off stage. It’s around the back,” he murmured. Mike looked over, then back at the dancer. “They’re both okay,” answering Mike’s unspoken fears.

  The second show went as had the first. A few of the moves that the girls made on-stage varied from their first attempt, but the results were unchanged. Mike and deVeel watched with the same intensity as before, Mike: the girls, deVeel: the audience.

  When the lights crashed into black with Beckie and Melissa standing on the stage in a loose embrace, Mike followed deVeel toward the door. He sauntered past both the brunette and the bouncer trotting to the alley that led to the rear of the club and Jamse’s car. With a quick glance, he saw deVeel turn back toward the club and he ran along the alley to the car.

  Anxious, Mike watched the back door of the club. In a moment, it opened smoothly and he watched Melissa and Beckie run out, followed by Jamse. They had stopped only long enough for the girls to be decent; Jamse carried the clothes they didn’t wear.

  Mike opened the car door for the girls to enter. Beckie got in, then scooted by him. She and Melissa both seemed to be comforted by his arm around their shoulders. Jamse got under the wheel and started the car, moving out of the area without delay.

  “I don’t—”

  “Not now, Mike,” Melissa said into his shoulder. “We’ll talk i
n a minute, but now, just be quiet please.”

  He settled into a subdued silence, not understanding. Jamse offered no encouragement, so Mike eased the girls closer and waited as Jamse drove through the light mist.

  In spite of the rain, a nearly full moon illuminated the scene for them. Mike did nothing but hold Beckie and Melissa close, fearing to even so much as twitch, sure that if he did they would explode from the tension he could feel under his hands and arms. He did not even turn his head toward one or the other, just looked straight out through the windshield at the streetlights in the mist. He stared at the cars parked by the curb, the bobbies checking the storefronts, the black taxis, the red London Transport buses, all going about their business. None of them care one bit about us, he thought with some dismay.

  Again Jamse negotiated Grosvenor Square, pulling to the curb in front of the unobtrusive doorway. A warning to the doorman that he might need the car at short notice along with more of those thick coins to ensure its safety, and they went inside.

  Except for brief naps, all of them had been awake for over thirty-six hours; Mike had noticed Beckie nodding off in the car and his head drooped as he stood in the elevator. There was no talk as the car rose; even on entering their respective rooms, Jamse made the only statement:

  “Breakfast at nine; it is not served any later. I shall ring your rooms at eight.”

  The groans were unanimous.

  Mike opened his room and went in. At first he sat, then fell back to lie on the bed looking up at the ceiling. Lying there, he nodded off again. He forced himself up off the bed and dragged himself to stand in front of the closet. He had dropped his shirt to the chair and was unfastening his belt when soft, cool hands covered his eyes from behind. He heard Melissa giggle softly just behind his ear.

  “I coulda waited till you were done.” He heard the smile in her whisper.

  He could feel her body against his back, but he stood quietly, waiting for her lead. Her hands slipped from his eyes, falling to his chest. Her arms dropped over his as she caressed him. He reached behind him, insinuating his hand between their bodies, feeling the coarse weave of the fabric of her skirt against his skin. He pressed, the slightest touch, feeling the contour of her leg against his fingers. He enjoyed the feeling for several moments, then he turned to face her, noticing with surprise that her blouse was undone. Following his gaze, she smiled.

  “You didn’t notice,” she said. “I told her you wouldn’t. It’s Beckie’s. I ripped all the buttons off it when I took it off her in the last show, then Mr. Jamse handed it to me when we were leaving. I was holding it together the whole time in the car and all. Really,” she replied to his doubtful look. “Are you going to get a shower now?”

  “No, I was gonna wait till morning. Unless you want to get one?”

  “We’re going to wait, too. But I wanted to talk after cutting you off in the car.” She led him to the edge of the bed and they sat. She lay back on the bed; the shirt fell open sufficiently to entrance Mike again. His kiss was at first innocent, but became passionate. Melissa waited only until he had broken the kiss to wriggle out from under him, breathlessly calling, “Beckie, c’mere please.”

  Beckie walked through the door, pulling her nightgown on over her head as she did. “What’s the matter?” she said. She sat next to Mike, her hand atop his.

  “Well, nothing, really. I just thought…” She stopped. “Mike, we wondered, like, you know, what you, you know…”

  “She wants to know what you thought,” Beckie finished for her.

  “I don’t know, exactly.” Seeing their looks, he hastily continued. “I mean, you are both great looking. You are both so good looking, but then, all these other guys were looking at you, too, so that was bad. And I kept looking at your faces. Honest,” he protested as he saw their looks of disbelief, “and you didn’t look very happy. And I couldn’t do anything about it, you know, to help you.” He paused, thinking back. “Again, I couldn’t help you, Kie. You either, Lissa. So, except for seeing how great you both look as girls, it wasn’t much fun. That club is a real dump, too. DeVeel’s nice, though; he helped me a couple times,” he added as he stood and looked at the girls.

  Beckie looked back at him, asking, “But Mike, the stuff we did up there…”

  “I don’t know, Kie. The other people in the audience, they all seemed really turned on by you guys. I don’t know if it’s because of what you were doing, or what. I didn’t care what you were doing, either of you, ‘cause I liked looking at you so much. If you don’t mind me being, like, honest about it.”

  “But it didn’t bother you, like, seeing us kissing, and all?”

  “No, except that you didn’t act like you were very happy about it. I guess no one else looked above your necks, except me. But like I said, I was looking at you, not what you were doing. I know both of you, and we know why you’re up there doing that, so it’s okay, I guess.”

  “Mr. Jamse’s really upset, I think,” Melissa said.

  “‘Cause he didn’t guess what you’d be doing?”

  “Yeah, I think so. He hardly said two words to us between shows, just that we were going to get out as soon as we were off the stage after the second dance.”

  “And nothing since, except for breakfast,” Beckie added.

  “I guess he doesn’t guess wrong very often,” Mike said. A silence followed, broken by Beckie as she got off the bed.

  “I guess you’re safe, Lissa. I’ll head over to bed, I think.”

  Mike, recalling Jamse’s suggestion, stopped her. “I don’t think either Lissa or I are going to start anything that you’d be in the way for. And we should all stay together, too, when we can, so, you know—”

  “That’s a good idea.” She looked at Melissa. “If you’re sure?”

  Melissa looked sternly back. “I’m sure!”

  Mike turned his back on them. “Okay, it’s getting later and later. Let’s just worry ‘bout getting some sleep.”

  With a smile, Beckie sat on the edge of the bed, then slid between the sheets, straightening her nightgown and the bedclothes. “Like he said, let’s get some sleep.”

  “Got to get my gown.” Melissa ran into the other room. Mike kicked his shoes off and sat on the end of the king bed.

  Beckie looked askance at him. “Gonna get in?” she said.

  “No, I’m thinking that would be too, too much. I’ll just take a blanket and use the sofa there.” He pointed to a piece of furniture intended for show and not function.

  Beckie nodded and rolled over.

  Melissa came back at a more sedate pace, her gown in place and fastened up to the neck. She looked at Mike as she entered, but nodded as he pointed to the sofa. She clambered between the sheets, peeking over at Beckie. With a smile, she asked, “Is she asleep yet?”

  Beckie mumbled into the pillow, “Yeah, so be quiet.”

  Melissa let Mike approach for a good night kiss, but didn’t stop him as he pulled a folded comforter from the bed and found a place on the sofa.

  “G’night.”

  “Thanks.”

  At eight the phone exploded into life; Mike reached around to find it.

  “Michael, it is time to rise,” Jamse responded to his grunt. “Are Rebecca and Melissa with you? There was no answer in their room.”

  He looked at the two shapes, just starting to move. “Yeah, they’re here. They’re okay. We’ll be along in a minute.”

  He finished waking the girls, and Beckie headed toward the shower. Rather than start down a dead end path, Melissa led Mike to his shower and left to go through the connecting door for her own.

  Well before nine, the three, freshly scrubbed but still tired, walked through the ornate archway to the dining room, joining Jamse and deVeel at their table.

  Jamse directed the conversation to deVeel’s report, which he recapped for them. Not only had he been watching Mike at the club, but the other clientele as well, under the assumption that Nigel might have already alerted t
he traders to watch Melissa and Beckie. DeVeel had noticed three men who appeared to look at the girls more than any of the other dancers, and who either used their phone, or left the club shortly after the girls were replaced on the stage. He had watched another man with a very small camera, either video or still, but couldn’t tell if that man was associated with the others.

  News of the camera did not please Beckie, and the look on Melissa’s face mirrored her dismay.

  “While you were headed back here,” deVeel continued, “I tracked the guy with the camera to a bed and breakfast out near Heathrow. Sue came out to carry on the surveillance with Barbara once I saw him into the place. They were still there when I came in to meet you. Funny, though, I didn’t think that he stopped anywhere long enough to send anything.”

  Jamse contemplated this information while deVeel caught up on his meal and the others sipped their coffee or tea.

  “Have Ms Saunders speak with the proprietor of the bed and breakfast. While they may not provide Internet access, it is possible that your man has the equipment necessary to transmit video over a telephone connection. Recall the equipment that we saw demonstrated last year in, Frankfurt, was it not? The quality of the images can be as good as the original, and with compression, the transmission time has been reduced significantly as well.”

  “What should she ask for?”

  “The telephone records should be sufficient. While transmission time has been reduced, it still requires seconds for an image. If video, a similar time. It seems likely that several images, perhaps as many as one hundred, would be sent, even though a single one would probably be sufficient.”