“Jeez, Skull,” I said, unable to stop myself. “I wonder which one of the girls turned you down today to put you in such a foul mood.”
He scowled at me, then nodded at his friend and they both let go of me. “I’m takin’ your tips tonight, darlin’. You got your tongue to thank for that.”
“No, please.” How quickly I was reduced to begging… Damn Skull. “I really need that money, Skull. Please.”
He just laughed in my face, not even bothering with a response as he pulled his new friend back to guard the door. Shit. I kept walking to the dressing rooms, cursing inwardly for fucking up so badly. Even less money, and I was already barely making rent.
I arrived in the dressing room to the usual flutter of activity. Women in various stages of undress were flitting about the room, wearing jeweled lingerie, feather boas and always high heels with stockings. I slid onto my usual seat between my two friends, Evangeline and Rosabella. Evangeline winced when she saw the state of my coat.
“Got greeted by Skull and his new friend, did you?” she asked as she powdered her nose.
“More like ambushed.” I groaned, taking my coat off and putting it under the long vanity table that ran the length of the room. “God, he’s getting worse every day. We’re going to have to organize a coup.”
“Don’t I know it,” Rosabella spoke up from beside me, lifting her turtleneck and showing me a set of fingerprint bruises.
I winced. “They got you as well?”
“Last night after my shift,” she sighed, spraying perfume on her jet-black hair. “You’re right, Amicia. We need to start fighting back.” She got up, smoothing out her barely-there burlesque-themed outfit. “Alright ladies. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck,” Evangeline and I said in unison.
With a sigh, I fixed my gaze on my reflection in the lit-up mirror. My long dark hair was lustrous in the light. I added curlers to it as Evangeline told me a story from her other workplace. She worked at a café to make ends meet, and she was also going to school. Good on her. She’d get out of Le Cabaret sooner than the rest of us.
I applied thick false lashes, making my blue eyes stand out. My olive-toned complexion started to glow as I put on a shimmering bronzing powder, and my hair came down in luxurious waves.
Evangeline and I picked each other’s outfits. For her, a red feather boa to go with the scarlet leatherette basque and silky black thong. For me, an ensemble in light pink—suspenders, garter belt, a bra with lace and sequins, and a pearl-trimmed pink thong. We both put on stockings and heels to complete the look.
We were dancing half an hour apart, and I waved Evangeline off as she made her way onto the stage to the sound of catcalls and dirty words being tossed around the room.
I waited in the backstage where there was always a flurry of activity. The other girls were getting ready, shooting me friendly smiles or jealous glances depending on how much they liked me. There was a hierarchy in Le Cabaret, and I’d worked hard to fight my way to the top of the food chain. I needed to keep my composure and stay cool as the other girls fought for the spots below me. The wise ones made friends with me. The foolish younger ones spewed their venom at me. Those never lasted long at Le Cabaret.
I waited until Evangeline finished, my eyes following her moves on the stage. She was a good dancer, but she didn’t have the innate calling for it that I felt. The patrons loved her because she teased them. She’d mastered the art of prying out twenties, sometimes even fifties, out of them.
I was the only one who got hundred-pound bills. Evangeline was merely a supporting act for the Kitty—my pseudonym—show.
Minutes later, Evangeline rushed backstage with a big smile on her face, flashing me a bill for a hundred bucks. “Look what I got today! It’s my first one!”
“I’m so happy for you,” I gushed with her, kissing her cheek before she disappeared into the powder room, all glitter and smiles. It was my turn to make money now, though I knew Skull would end up taking it all away from me by the time the day was over. But I’d still be paid for dancing, and a couple hundred quid was better than nothing.
The music changed to a dark, moody song I’d picked myself. I moved the best to emotional music. The notes swayed through me, making my body twist in ways that got every man in that room hard. I knew what I was doing, and I was determined to get through the night without any further hiccups. My face-off with Skull and the new bouncer had been more than enough for one day.
“Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!” The patrons were beginning to chant outside, and I smiled to myself as I finally entered the stage. They whooped and yelled my name as I stood with my back to the crowd, waiting for the music to kick off to its crescendo.
Here, on the stage of Le Cabaret, I was finally the star I’d always dreamed of being.
The music kicked off, and so did I. I whirled around, my eyes covered in a pink lace mask and—hopefully—making me unrecognizable. I was wearing my signature kitten mask, made of pink sequins on that day. I made my way to the front of the catwalk and began to move.
I always structured my dancing around my outfit. Today, I was the innocent kitten in pink—mimicking licking my paws, crawling on all fours, dancing as if I were playing with a toy. They went wild before I even took my clothes off. Bills were tucked into my bra, into my panties. Smaller bills covered the catwalk. I usually left those for the younger girls. Some of them were in even worse situations than I was.
The time came for me to take my bra off, and I hesitated, shyly regarding the men before me before unclasping it in the front. Roars and demands for me to take it off followed, and through it all, my gaze searched the crowd to find someone to focus on.
Sometimes I got lucky, finding a handsome man in the crowd who looked kinder than the rest of the patrons. Sometimes I picked Charles, a regular who was seventy years old and had lost his wife a decade ago. Since then, he’d been to Le Cabaret every night, spending most of his pension to watch women fifty years his junior dancing on the stage.
But Charles was nowhere to be found that night.
Instead, my eyes settled on a figure in the back, shaded by the lack of lights in the VIP booth. He was wearing a clean-cut, expensive suit, with a black shirt, and a black tie. His face was in the shadows, and I squinted through my mask, trying to get a better look. There was a woman there too, which surprised me. Even from my position, I could read her body language. She was pissed he’d brought her there.
“Bra off! Bra off! Bra off!” the patrons chanted, quickly transporting me from my daydream to reality. I smiled seductively, removing my bra and dangling it from my fingertips, while my other hand timidly hovered over my breasts, hiding my bruised nipples. I’d tried to correct the damage Skull had done with loose powder, but I had a feeling the purple would still show through.
The crowd let out a collective gasp as my bra fluttered to the catwalk, and I pulled my hand back. My breasts bounced free, but I wasn’t done teasing them yet—pink sequin hearts with tassels covered my nipples, making them laugh and want more. More money came, and I hated myself for wasting such a money-maker dance tonight, when Skull would steal all my earnings.
As I danced, I couldn’t take my eyes off the stranger in the VIP booth. Still unable to see his face, I decided to dance for him, as if it were only the two of us in Le Cabaret. I twirled, my hands gliding down my curves, my eyes permanently locked on the stranger’s shadowed face.
I removed my thong next, and this time, there was no room to be shy. My pussy was exposed, shaved save for a little line of dark hair leading down to my center. I touched myself, innocent strokes of my fingers as the men cheered me on. When I rubbed my pussy, my fingers came away wet. The fantasy of the mysterious man in the VIP area had turned me on.
Soon, my dance came to end, and I made my way off the stage to the sound of the patrons demanding more. I wouldn’t want to be the girl going on after me. They all wanted more Kitty.
In the backroom, I quickly changed out of my clot
hes and removed my makeup. Evangeline and Rosabella were both gone, and they were my best friends in the joint. I did get along with some of the other girls, but we weren’t exactly close.
I was ready to leave in twenty minutes, grabbing my things and heading out through the back exit, doing my best to avoid the bouncers. I hadn’t seen Skull since I came in, which was a good thing. The day’s earnings felt like a heavy burden in my bag, which I held onto for dear life, my fingers frozen from the chilly London night.
“What’s the rush, darlin’?”
Fuck. I turned around in the street, which was deserted. This wasn’t the best part of town during the day, let alone in the nighttime when I usually made my way back to my apartment. I’d worked hard to afford a place in a slightly less dangerous district, but my walks home were always filled with nervousness and anxiety. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d gotten cornered—either by Skull or one of the other bouncers, or even a patron from Le Cabaret.
“Just trying to get home,” I muttered as Skull caught up with me, standing in front of me and walking backward with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“Think you’re forgetting somethin’,” he said, spitting on the concrete before coming to a stop on the pavement. I bumped against him, groaning when he grabbed me by the hair and tossed me to the other side of the street as if I weighed nothing.
“Please, Skull,” I managed, the air knocked right out of me. “I’ll give you the money, just let me go home in peace.”
“Oh yeah?” he snarled. “Is that why you were tryin’ to get home without coming to me first, bitch?”
“I wasn’t,” I lied through gritted teeth. “I just didn’t see you inside…”
“Bullshit.” He slammed me back, and I stumbled backward as he descended on me. “I don’t fuckin’ like it when my bitches lie to me. So now, you're gonna pay for it.”
Chapter 2
Grayson
“Please don’t do this, Sir.” Lyra was a mess, makeup running down her face, black streaks of mascara lining her cheeks. “Please, I want to stay with you, I want to be yours, don’t let me go…”
The car slowed to a stop. A huge country house loomed before us, magnificent in the late winter day. I turned to face Lyra. Unbeknownst to her, this wasn’t easy for me either. But she’d served her purpose. I’d kept her for long enough. Now, I was done. It was time for a new plaything.
“I’m sorry, Lyra,” I told her, handing the beautiful red-haired vixen an envelope with her cash, and the photos I’d taken of her. “It’s time now. You have to go.”
“Please, Sir,” she murmured. “Don’t let me go, I don’t want the money, I just want you.”
“Unfortunately, I don’t want you.” My voice was calm and collected. I motioned for Kai to get her out of the car, and he opened the door, prying her off the backseat while she kicked and punched him, desperately trying to stay with me.
It was always like this when I let them go. They all wanted to stay with me. The problem was, none of them kept my attention for longer than a few weeks. I was a spoiled man. I got bored easily.
Lyra began to howl as Kai removed her from the car. The door closed; the sound of her wailing blocked out. I stretched my legs, smoothing down my suit. And so, the hunt for a new toy was beginning.
I watched Kai deposit Lyra in front of her parents’ house with mild interest. It would take her a few months to get over me, sure, but after that, she’d be better off. When I had met her, she hadn’t even known she was kinky. I’d always have fond memories of extracting her first ‘Yes, Sir’ from those full, bee-stung lips.
But now, as she stumbled toward the house and Kai returned to the car, I was restless and bored. I wanted a new plaything, and I wanted her then and there.
Once my right-hand-man was next to me, the driver pulled away, leaving Lyra in front of her parents’ home. Kai seemed to sense my mood and left me in peace until we were almost at the penthouse.
“Sir, if I may,” he spoke up then. “Another auction will be happening soon at Couture House. I could get you a list of the girls. Perhaps you will find someone to your liking.”
“Another auction?” I repeated thoughtfully. “Get me the list, I’ll look it over. But tonight, I want to have some fun.”
“Certainly, Sir. May I suggest sending someone up to the penthouse? Perhaps the Sullivan twins tonight?”
“No.” My answer was firm. I got out of the car, waiting for the bellboy to run outside and hold an umbrella over my head as I made my way toward the building. Kai was right beside me as I pondered what to do. I was jaded and impatient, and I wanted to do something I’d remember for a long time to come. “How about a burlesque club?”
“Of course, Sir,” Kai replied without missing a beat. “I’ll find one you haven’t been at before.”
“Perfect.”
I was escorted to the lift, then took the elevator with Kai who was scrolling through his phone. We arrived at my penthouse. It was a modern, elegant bachelor pad that hadn’t seen the touch of a woman—yet. My urge to find a more permanent solution to my relationship problem had only intensified in the past year.
As I took off my coat and placed it in the walk-in wardrobe, Kai walked up behind me with his eyes lit up. “I may have found something, Sir. It’s called Le Cabaret and it’s on Berwick Street in Soho.”
“Get me the VIP booth,” I told him firmly as I regarded my reflection in the mirror.
My face stared back at me from the mirror. I looked younger than my thirty-eight years, but the silver hairs in my inky black hairstyle didn’t lie. I worked hard on my body, long hours exercising making me lean and muscular. The shadow of stubble was ever-present on my chiseled jaw.
I was going to turn thirty-nine soon. Too old for this.
“And make sure I won’t be bothered. By anyone.”
“Of course, Sir. Are you taking a guard with you?”
I contemplated his words before shaking my head. “No, not tonight, Kai. But I want a woman with me. Find me a date?”
“Of course, Sir.”
He withdrew from the room. I knew my answer hadn’t pleased him—Kai was always irrationally worried someone would realize who I was and try to force some cash out of me. But I was more worried about putting out shady business partners than some random junkie in Soho’s back alley. Besides, I could defend myself perfectly well. I’d only been made into a fool once. At the thought, my hands formed fists at my sides.
I couldn’t think about that failure now. I had a night at the burlesque show to get ready for. And I had a good feeling about Le Cabaret.
***
My date for the night was a gorgeous twenty-something socialite by the name of Addison Meyer.
She was a stunning chocolate-haired and green-eyed beauty I wanted to fucking devour, but I knew she was not kinky within ten minutes of our first conversation. I cursed inwardly as I led her to the car. She wouldn’t like where our first date was happening one bit. Usually, it would have made me excited to push a woman’s limits, but this one was barely a woman. She was still a girl—an innocent, darling girl who would make someone very happy one day, but that man would not be me.
As Addison chatted about her heiress lifestyle, I stared out of the window, already bored. She seemed to sense my mood and shut up. She’d seemed thrilled to be out with me at first. I supposed being pranced around town with London’s most eligible, dangerous bachelor was quite the feat. But as we pulled up in front of Le Cabaret, her eyes widened, and I could tell our destination was not a pleasurable surprise.
“Is this where we’re going?”
“Yes.” I left no room for her arguments, gallantly escorting her out of the car and into Le Cabaret. It wasn’t the classiest of establishments, but I had a feeling Kai had sent me there for a reason.
We walked inside with our arms linked, and Addison visibly recoiled when we sat down in the VIP booth. She wore a look of disapproval as we settled down and I ordered us their finest
bottle of champagne. I saw the bartender wipe the thing down before they brought it over in an ice bucket, probably to remove the dust it had been gathering in their bar for years.
A staff member popped the champagne for us, and a waitress scantily clad in a thong and nipple tassels poured me a glass to sample. I nodded my approval though the drink wasn’t up to my standards. But I had a feeling I wouldn’t get anything better. This place was a dump.
While Addison stewed in her own fury, I watched the woman moving on the stage before us. Her tits were out, pretty pink rosebuds enticing the patrons of Le Cabaret to stuff their money into her thong. I wasn’t impressed. Yes, the girl was pretty, but I wanted something more. I wanted someone that would take my breath away. And I wasn’t sure whether Le Cabaret could offer someone like that. It was subpar for the time being. I wasn’t easily impressed.
The music changed and the woman left the stage while the crowd demanded more. I shifted my attention to Addison, who was busy scrolling through the many notifications on her phone. She didn’t even glance up, probably texting a friend to complain what a pervert Grayson Kline turned out to be. Not that I cared. She was better off with someone else, and at least we wouldn’t end the night with her having a hopeless crush on me. I never encouraged those. They irritated me to no end.
Once again, the music changed, and this time the patrons started chanting along with the melody. I could make out one word—Kitty. Was she the next dancer? With my gaze fixed on the stage, I waited for this girl, obviously the most popular one, to come out. She had the prime slot for dancing, and the bastards in the room were eager to stuff their money down her thong. I hoped she’d be a worthy distraction. Otherwise, I’d end up very cross with Kai for sending me to this hole.
The girl walked out, a vision in pink. Everything was rosy, from her lingerie to the stockings and heels, and the cat mask that covered her face. It was made of sequins, covering the upper half of her face, with kitten ears on top, in pastel pink.
Christmas Captive: A Holiday Romance Page 2
