Page 3 of Done with You

The place was dark and filled with round tables that sat four people. All the tables were full, and people stood around the edges, drinks in their hands, eyes glued to the stage, as a caramel-haired beauty with a super-sexy silver bathing suit thing that was up her ass crack like floss, and giant cut-outs on her abdomen, hung from a metal pole by nothing more than one bent leg.

Her body was at a ninety-degree bend outward and she was spinning around the pole—or the pole was spinning her around—backward, her arms out.

“Fucking hell,” he murmured under his breath.

“Drink, sir?” a chipper-voiced male server asked.

He glanced down at the kid, who was probably no more than twenty and weighed less than a Great Dane. “Club soda with lime,” he said.

The kid nodded. “Be right back.”

Aiden meandered through the crowd, his eyes glued to the woman on stage. So, this was Luna, as the announcer had called her. She was in ridiculously high, clear, plastic, chunky heels and had just hoisted herself into the air by holding onto the pole with her arms. She spun around a few times, continuing to stay off the ground, then, while still in the air, she flipped herself upside down, hooked one leg around the pole, maneuvered her body so her head was hanging below her legs, and bent the other leg so that she could grab the heel of it with both hands. All while still spinning. All while holding onto the pole with just that one leg at the knee. Squeezing it with her calf and hamstring.

Then, still just using her arms, she lifted her bent leg back up and held herself on her back in the air, in the splits with the pole between her legs, before finally dropping to the ground to her knees in a sexy way, then standing up by pushing her ass up first and flipping her high ponytail.

The crowd went apeshit.

Aiden hadn’t fucking blinked, and when he finally did, his eyes stung and he realized he had a dry mouth from standing there with his mouth open.

“Club soda, sir,” the server said, approaching him with his drink on a tray.

Aiden grunted. “Thanks.” He handed the kid a five, knowing that the drink was probably no more than three bucks since there was no booze in it.

“Change?” the kid asked.

Aiden shook his head, pulled out the straw, and put it back on the tray before taking a sip from the glass.

“Thank you very much,” the server said, his grin getting bigger before he disappeared into the masses.

Luna continued to do tricks and spins on the pole, defying gravity and all other laws of physics, while simultaneously blowing Aiden’s mind.

He’d been looking for nachos and a hockey game to ease his temper, but this was somehow doing the trick, too.

Eventually, Luna’s time on stage was over, but as she bowed and left, the crowd stood up from their seats and gave her a standing ovation.

She bowed deeper, then hopped back up onto the pole for an encore. This time, the move she did certainly had to have wires or something because nobody had that kind of upper body strength. Especially someone who didn’t have enormous biceps. She went upside down, parallel to the pole, hooked one foot around it just at the ankle, then held on with one hand and spun around, giving him a clear view of the tattoo she had on her left shoulder blade, as well as her right tricep. Her other hand and leg just hung out away from her body.

How?

Just. Fucking. How?

Then she did a move where she held onto the pole with one hand, made her body go parallel with the floor, split her legs like chopsticks, and grabbed one foot. Only to then slide to the floor, almost licking the ground with her body, stick her ass in the air again, and finish in the fucking splits.

The crowd continued to go insane and the applause followed Luna off the stage for another thirty seconds after she was gone.

The performers that followed Luna were good, but they were no Luna.

The woman had a presence about her. An almost aloofness that Aiden felt in his very marrow.

She made eye contact with the crowd, but in such a way that he was sure every person in there thought she was looking at them. That she was performing only for them. Like Mona Lisa’s eyes, they followed you no matter where you were in the room. And even though he was sure she was doing it all for show, that it was just part of the performance, the way she looked at him, the way her light brown eyes bore into him, had him believing that this was all for him. That he was the only person in the crowd, and this was a private show.

He stuck around, hoping that the lovely Luna Love would return to the stage. He’d paid his ticket, and the front desk guy said there was only a little over an hour to go, so he may as well see the hour through.

After his second club soda with lime and the third performer after Luna, there was a ten-minute intermission where the lights came on, and people quickly grabbed more drinks or used the washroom.

Aiden took this as an opportunity to find a better vantage point.

He didn’t want to steal a seat from anyone, but he made his way closer to the front along the side wall, picking a spot that would give him a clear view of the stage.

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