TOMCATS [BOOK TWO]

by Honey Palomino

  Now that I was here, I continued to fail to see the difference.

  And now that I’d propositioned Blaze, I was sure the night was ruined.

  But then — he kissed me.

  Slow. Simple. So fucking gently that I thought my heart might break…

  And then — he flashed me an easy smile as if kissing me was something that came as naturally to him as breathing, like he’d kissed me a million times, before he’d gotten up to pour us both a glass of red wine.

  “I’m going to make you dinner,” he said. “You just kick off your shoes and drink as much wine as you want. Tell me about your work. You said you’re an actress?”

  I groaned inwardly, the last thing I wanted to think about was work. Or, the lack of it.

  “I don’t get many roles these days. I mainly produce films now. But I thought we were going to turn off the world,” I said.

  “Right,” he agreed, winking. “How about you find some music to listen to? And then just lay back, put your feet up, and enjoy your wine. We can chat over dinner.”

  “That sounds like the best idea yet,” I said. After thumbing through a collection of records in the corner, I chose an old Marvin Gaye record and put it on. As the silky sounds of Marvin’s voice caressed us, I did just as Blaze suggested.

  In less than a minute, I’d kicked off my shoes and was lying back on the couch with my eyes closed. As I inhaled deeply and my shoulders began to relax, I realized this was something I never really did. At home, I worked till late in the night and fell into my bed exhausted. I was out cold as soon as my head hit the pillow.

  Enjoying the feeling of relaxation was foreign to me.

  Having a beautiful man make me dinner while I didn’t lift a finger?

  Well, that was just downright bizarre.

  Maybe Melissa was right after all.

  Maybe some men do have other things to offer besides sex and possessiveness.

  As I listened to Blaze work in the kitchen while I finished off half the bottle of wine by myself, I couldn’t wait to find out what other offerings were on his menu.

  CHAPTER 9

  DAINE

  I was almost late to work because I’d overslept. After nursing a hangover all morning, I took a late afternoon nap and slept through my alarm. If Fox hadn’t woken me up, I’d have missed my set completely.

  Running through the lobby of the club towards the dressing room, I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistake tonight. I’d gotten entirely too fucked up last night, never mind how much fun I had, or how amazing the guy I’d ended up sleeping with was. Hell, I couldn’t even remember his name.

  The dressing room looked like a bomb had gone off. Besides Fox, Blaze and myself, we’d hired several other dancers and were looking for more. I let the others handle the management of the place, instead opting for the freedom of just showing up and performing my act, making some money, and leaving. I didn’t feel the need to take the time to get to know the other guys. Call me shallow, but I wasn’t interested in forming new friendships. I was all good in that department.

  I wasn’t rude to them, don’t get me wrong. I just didn’t take the effort. Maybe that makes me an asshole, I don’t know. But between work and play, I just didn’t have the time for all that.

  Since I had a strict rule of keeping work and play separate, I didn’t look at any of the other dancers as a source of play. I did suspect at least one of them might be gay, but I continued to keep my distance.

  I’d learned the hard way back in Vegas not to shit where I ate. I’d gotten involved with another dancer years ago and once it ended, going to work was pure fucking torture until he finally quit. It’s hard to escape obsessed stalker ex-lovers when you have to work with them.

  I’d learned my lesson and now, when I came to work, I kept to myself. As long as nobody touched my things or tried to get involved in my business, we were all good and friendly.

  That’s why, when I saw some guy I didn’t recognize wearing my fireman’s outfit that I planned to wear during my first act, I blew up.

  Everyone knows that Fox and Blaze and I are the featured dancers, and we get first pick of all the costumes. And there was only one fireman allowed per night, and that was me. I’m a fucking ginger, for fuck’s sake, it only makes sense.

  I walked up to the guy and shook my head.

  “What?” he asked, his wide-eyes blinking stupidly at me.

  “I don’t know who the fuck you are, or who you think you are, but you need to take that costume off right now.”

  “I’m Finn —.”

  “I said, I didn’t give a shit who you are. Now, take it off, before I take it off for you.”

  “Blaze said I could wear anything I wanted,” he said, lifting his chin defiantly.

  “Well, he was wrong.”

  “Can’t you wear something else?” he asked.

  “What?” I asked, my voice raising an octave. “Are you for real?”

  “I got it first,” he insisted. He looked up at me, his strawberry blonde hair falling across his forehead.

  I shook my head, leaning in close and peering into his eyes.

  “I said, take it the fuck off! And you fucking look like you’re twelve. Did Blaze check your ID?”

  “No, but I’m twenty-one,” he said, lifting his chin.

  I groaned, shaking my head as I looked him over. He was tall and lean, almost as tall as me. And he was in great shape, I had to admit. No doubt the customers would love him. But something about him rubbed me the wrong way.

  “Find another costume,” I said. “And hurry the fuck up, I go on in ten minutes.”

  “But —.”

  “But nothing!” I shouted. “Take it off before I kick your ass!”

  “Fine!” he replied, his voice slightly trembling. His eyes met mine, as he began undressing in front of me.

  “Dude, go somewhere else and bring the costume back.”

  “Right,” he said, scampering off like a frightened rat. I rolled my eyes and sat down on the bench in front of the mirror. Grabbing a brush, I ran it through my thick red hair, eyeing the bags under my eyes.

  “God, I need a fucking drink,” I murmured to myself.

  “Didn’t get enough last night?” Fox said, calling out from the corner. I didn’t even realize he was there.

  “Apparently not,” I replied, as I began smearing concealer under my eyes.

  “You were kinda hard on the new guy,” he said.

  “Whatever,” I mumbled.

  “He’s wholesome, I bet he’ll be a hit,” he replied. “The ladies like that babyface.”

  “He’s just a kid,” I said. “Shouldn’t even be here.”

  “We started early,” Fox reminded me.

  “Was I that much of a smart-ass back then?”

  He burst out laughing. I shook my head.

  “Shut the hell up,” I said.

  CHAPTER 10

  FINN

  After taking off the firefighter costume — which consisted of a pair of canvas overalls with suspenders that were held together with strips of velcro down the sides, a bright red helmet, and a fake fire extinguisher — I sat down in the dressing room, watching Fox and Daine get ready to go on stage.

  Fox wore a tuxedo with a top hat and Daine decided at the last moment to not even wear the damned firefighter costume and went out as a cop instead, convincing me he’d only made a stink about it to screw with me.

  He was obviously an ass, but still — I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

  As soon as he walked in the dressing room, all the air left my lungs. I studied his every move and gesture, memorized the lines on his face. I watched him strut around the dressing room like he was born in it.

  And then, he went on stage.

  I watched from the bar, my head spinning at the effortless way he played the crowd. Within seconds, he had them eating out of his hand. Women stood from their seats, waving scarves, throwing money and hooting and hollering like they’d gone
mad.

  He glowed in their adoration.

  He came alive.

  His eyes, his smile, the way he held his head up like a proud peacock during a mating dance, he was pure masculine confidence dancing to the song Riding Dirty, humping and gyrating under the flashing purple and blue lights like some kind of sex machine.

  Quickly, I turned away. Then turned back. Then turned away again as he ripped off his pants, revealing a glittery red g-string that left nothing to the imagination.

  By the time he was finished, the stage was covered in a thick blanket of cash and he was practically nude.

  He waved to the cheering crowd and ran off stage, disappearing behind the shimmery gold curtain. Jumping from my perch at the bar, I wove through the crowd and made my way backstage, walking up behind him in the dressing room.

  “I think I made at least a grand, man!” Daine said to Fox, his body dripping in sweat. “Great crowd out there, brother. You’re gonna make a killing.”

  “I fucking love nights like these,” Fox said. “Tillie said there was a crowd around the building to get in tonight.”

  “Moving here was the best thing we ever fucking did, dude,” Daine said. I inched closer, so close I trailed a drop of sweat that ran down his back.

  “For sure, man,” Fox said, standing up and adjusting his hat in the mirror. “Gotta go.”

  “Break a leg, Fox,” Daine said, turning around and taking a step right into me. “What the fuck, kid? Get out of my way!”

  I stepped to the side and watched him walk way with a smile on my face. I didn’t care if he was an asshole right now. That would change later. I could already tell.

  He was perfect.

  CHAPTER 11

  DAINE

  Kicking the new guy around felt good, I’ll admit it.

  If I couldn’t get drunk, which I’d promised myself I wouldn’t do again tonight — and I couldn’t eat an entire apple pie because I’d look like I was having a baby — then I needed something to keep me entertained.

  The new kid was an easy target.

  One minute he was mouthing off to me, and the next he was slinking off like a berated puppy. I wasn’t sure which I was enjoying more.

  The thing is he reminds me a little of myself at that age. Just like Fox implied, I was a smart ass on steroids when I was twenty-one. I thought I knew fucking everything there was to know, and I wasn’t about to listen to anyone who told me differently.

  I’d grown up a lot since then, even if it doesn’t look like it on the surface.

  I don’t act like I know everything anymore, for one thing.

  And I’m not running around seeking everyone’s approval either, as this guy Finn obviously was. All night long throughout my shift, every time I turned around he was right there, watching me, lingering just close enough to notice.

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was into me. But my gay-dar is fine-tuned and I knew this boy wasn’t gay. He was shy. Wet behind the ears. Inexperienced and insecure.

  He probably needed a mentor, more than anything. Once again, I wondered why the hell Blaze would have hired him. With all the experienced entertainers just chomping at the bit to work here, he chose this mousy kid?

  It didn’t make any sense.

  Maybe Blaze saw some potential, some spark, in him, I figured.

  That’s why I made a point to come out of the dressing room and take a seat at the bar to watch his debut performance. Immediately, I knew it was his first time.

  He’d gone with a western outfit, choosing to dance to Garth Brook’s ‘Friends in Low Places’ and he’d pulled a big black Stetson low over his eyes. Tentatively, he took a step forward on the catwalk, and looked around like a deer frozen in headlights. The song continued as all eyes in the place waited for him to move.

  Finally, something propelled him forward.

  One boot in front of the other, he walked into the room to a chorus of raucous cheers. He smiled a crooked grin and reached up, tipping his hat to a young blonde sitting near the stage. The crowd cheered again and he wiggled his hips a little. The blonde stood up and threw a wad of bills at his feet. He danced over, turning around and showing his ass to the crowd.

  I smirked, shaking my head. He was awkward as fuck. Not a graceful bone in his body. If it wasn’t for his ripped abs and boyish good lucks, he’d be useless up there.

  Fortunately, for him, the women didn’t seem to mind his atrocious performance and they seemed perfectly happy to feast their eyes upon his naked body. I watched all the way until he ripped off his chaps, revealing my very favorite American flag g-string.

  “You little asshole!” I muttered, standing up and turning away, unable to watch any longer.

  I’d been easy on him so far, but it was time to turn up the heat.

  If Blaze wasn’t going to teach him the rules around here, then somebody had to. If I needed to be the one to do it, so be it.

  Little Finn didn’t know what he had coming.

  I walked back to the dressing room to wait for him to get off stage so I could give him an earful about wearing my shit again and if necessary, a lesson in respect.

  I ignored the fact that the words spinning through my head made me sound a lot like my old man. He’d disowned me a long time ago, as soon as I’d come out to him, but that didn’t keep his voice from popping up in my head now and then.

  The realization of that fact took the wind out of my sails a bit, and by the time Finn got off stage, I’d gotten my things from my locker and disappeared out the back door.

  CHAPTER 12

  BLAZE

  Harley’s laughter was a song I never wanted to end.

  Dinner was a hit and by the time I’d brought out the crème brúlée, made hours ago by our staff, we were both well into the second bottle of wine. Alcohol gets a bad rap sometimes. Tonight, it was like a magical elixir that allowed us to let our guard down and just be ourselves.

  Turned out, Harley’s real self was intriguing and seductive and sensual. How she’d managed to stay single and not allow herself to get snatched up by some George Clooney type was beyond me. She was the whole package.

  Successful, smart, ambitious — with a beauty so striking I found myself memorizing the details of every feature of her face so I could remember what beauty really was later.

  More than any of that, she was genuine and down-to-earth. If she’d not told me, I’d never thought she was a movie star. With her bare feet tucked up under her, perched on the couch and peering over at me with such open curiosity and beaming with happiness, she was everything I loved about women.

  Every woman I’d ever known possessed some combination of all these amazing qualities. Each one so different and unique, that I could never get enough, always fluttering from woman to woman, because I wanted to experience it all. I didn’t want to give up the ambition I admired to be with a woman that was nurturing and loving. So, I’d enjoy a little of each, finding what I needed in extraordinary individuals with just a few of those traits and then moving on to others, like a butterfly getting little tastes of nectar from all the different flavors of flowers.

  But the thing that slayed me about Harley?

  She had it all. She was everything — smart, funny, successful, sexy and nurturing — all wrapped up in one very nice looking bow.

  Sitting there with her, for the first time, I wasn’t thinking about what a woman was lacking.

  I was in awe that I was witnessing a woman that seemed to possess everything I loved.

  How was it possible that I’d found her?

  She almost didn’t seem real.

  I forced myself to reel in my emotions, my head spinning from the intoxication of my little time with her. I told myself to slow down on the drinking, but it wasn’t the wine that was making me crazy. It was her.

  Unfortunately, I had to remember that she’s only my client.

  She’d hadn’t paid to come here merely to have a good time.

  She’d paid to leave
with no further attachments. She didn’t need some guy like me trying to make more of the situation than that.

  Listen, I wanted more. I wanted it all. I watched her move around the room, laughing, dancing, her long dark waves shimmering in the light from the fire, and I wanted to get closer than I could by just dancing with her.

  But I didn’t take off her clothes.

  I didn’t lay her down on the bed and make sweet love to her as she surely deserved to be made love to. I didn’t devour her, lose myself in her, and then find myself all over again, like I knew would come so easily in her arms.

  No.

  I made her dinner.

  I helped her escape.

  And then, I danced with her. Holding her close by the fire, her head on my shoulder, the music lulling us into a magical, peaceful evening that flew by with few words spoken, and yet so much communicated.

  And yes, then I kissed her. I couldn’t resist.

  Because there was no way I was going to let this night end without the tiniest taste of her perfection.

  Technically, kissing was against the rules, just as much as sex was. But we’re all adults. We all know it's a grey area. We used the rule with the women we didn’t want to kiss.

  Breaking it with the ones we did, well — it was a silent, harmless infraction.

  Tonight, it turned out to be a mind-altering, life-changing, unimaginable, tremble-inducing, unforgettable infraction.

  That’s why I did it again at the end of the night, when our time was up and we said our goodbyes. I wanted to ask to see her again. I wanted so much more.

  But all I could offer was that kiss.

  She pulled away too soon, pressing her card in my hand.

  “Call me, Blaze. If you want,” she smiled, those violet eyes full of a softness that only comes after a night of joy. I’d done my job.

  And just like that, she disappeared, leaving me alone in the cabana with an aching, hungry yearning the likes of which I’d never felt before. I inhaled her perfume, still lingering in the air in her absence, memorizing the sweet scent of her, then walked over to the club with a heavy heart.