Because the Night

~Chapter One~

A great number of things came to mind as I sat, staring alternately between the bland computer screen and the off-kilter blinds not truly blocking the outside from view. The first thought fluttered through regarding the beautiful and sunny day. Quickly after that came knowledge that it would long since be nightfall before I actually left the office. However, the most damning conjecture of all was also the truest. It mattered not whether I left early or late, night or day, or even at all. I had no one waiting for me to rush into their arms.

From my position facing the exterior, I could work while being ‘observed’ by the boss, yet I had no reason to join in the rampant conversations taking place elsewhere throughout the building. Rather than cubicles, thank goodness, the office boasted an open layout. It allowed for instant communication among us should the need arise, which occurred often. The work was menial, yet there was enough of it to overload even the most super driven woman in the building. Oh, and yeah, that just so happened to be me.

It wasn’t that I chose to be this ‘super woman’ in the building. It just sort of worked out that way. I’ve always been the geek—I gave up denying that title years earlier. Still, it was nice when I did go out with the ‘girls’ occasionally to also be the one attracting so much attention to our tables. I knew that to be the reason for the invites, but I didn’t really care. I only joined their GNO (Girls Night Out) perhaps once a month. I hated being hung over, and I knew that to keep being invited, even rarely, I needed to keep up with their drinking. Boy, did I ever regret it the first time I ‘kept up’.

The worst part about keeping up with their drinking was that unlike them, I still remembered everything that we did or said all night long. Judging by the way I tossed them back, everyone thought I had my own group of friends with whom I went drinking. This was not the case, but I sure wasn’t going to tell them that I truly just went home and sat in front of my computer all the time. I simply came from a long line of drinkers. I had inherited my parents’ ability to pile the alcohol home. Many nights, I wished otherwise. Oh, I relaxed and had fun, but my fun was more reserved due to the fact that I would always remember.

I would remember the girls dancing foolishly, teasing anything with a penis, shaking their breasts, whether voluptuous or inconsequential, right in the men’s faces. It was sad, really. Half of these women were either married or otherwise attached. I could not understand their desire to play so nicey-nice with every guy they met, especially with having met many of their significant others. I considered their men saints to allow such happenings and still welcome them home.

As five o’clock neared, I felt myself getting anxious. It was quite puerile, really. I had no reason to be anxious. We would go to the same bars as usual, toss back a few drinks, and eventually, we’d end up at the microphone. Nothing about that tradition gave me reason to feel this cloud of anxiety surround me. Still, I could not ignore the sensation. Something would happen tonight, something big enough to warrant some precognitive jitters.

My gaze locked on the soft sway of branches in the late afternoon breeze. The hypnotic motion grabbed my mind, pulling the tension from my heart and lungs, slowing my breathing until I was able to function without thought to the prior batch of nerves. Although I was settled, I still worried. When these ‘episodes’ hit me, there was always a real reason. I’d never had an anxiety attack that didn’t warn of something to come.

The echoing and familiar tones of the register being cleared for the night, the money drawer being locked in the safe, drew me from my reverie. A high-pitch voice chimed from across the room, “You are coming out tonight, aren’t you, Cici? You promised.” The woman’s lip stuck out in a pout that wouldn’t even fool a blind man.

“Yes, Marie. I’ll be there. What time were we meeting again?”

I don’t know why I bothered to ask. I could be an hour late, and I would still be the first to arrive.

“Nine o’clock at Sardi’s. We’ll start the night out with some super hot male flesh, then we’ll go to Oscar’s after that for some rowdy drinking and karaoke. Don’t be late! Ginger is coming tonight. I told her all about how the guys hang all over you, and she wants to see it first hand.”

Inwardly, I cringed. Yet another sad truth. I loved when GNO started at the strip club. The rock solid bodies were amazing to watch. The way the muscles rippled, the completely sexual gyrations…it all added up to a great tease. Unfortunately, when you had no one waiting at home, the tease just drove that idea home. I would make it through again, though. Colin would make sure of that. There were a great many positive points to making friends of the dancers. Only one of those reasons was the ability to hide backstage every once in a while. If I didn’t leave the table occasionally, the guys would get in trouble for hovering. Colin would let me wander in the back, away from the dancers while they performed. It would let them do the job they were paid to do without my obvious distraction.

So it was that several hours later, I sat at the table nearest the ladies room…and the back stage entrance. Colin sat with me, keeping me company while I waited for the rest of the ladies to show. He and Carl, the big, hulking bouncer, always took care to keep me safe, both from the errant dancers and from the jealous patrons.

“Cici, you are in for a bit of a treat tonight. We have fresh blood.”

I raised my eyebrows at him. “Oh, really? Might I be allowed to meet the newbie before he takes the stage? Give him a chance to see who it is he is to avoid while out here?”

Colin glanced over his shoulder at Papa Sardi, the owner. He was very much ensconced behind the bar, keeping up with the hoard of overly enthused women wanting to get loaded before they started tucking the bucks in the g-strings. He stood and moved quickly around the table, grabbing my hand on the way. I had expected as much. If Papa Sardi knew the guys let me hang around back stage, he would be understandably pissed off. It didn’t matter that I had no expectations from them, nor did they from me. It was the principle. As far as Papa Sardi was concerned, if one woman could hang out backstage, there might as well not even be a back stage. The guys should just let it all hang out for the whole crowd, non stop.

Just as we passed through the curtain into the hidden realm of the facility, a strong hand snaked across the entry, stopping both of us.

“Colin,” a rumbling tenor spoke from the shadow. “I do believe Mr. Sardi stated there was to be no fraternization with the patrons. Please explain to me why this young maiden is following you out of sight.”

The musk rising from that arm held pure masculinity. The quick inhalation of surprise brought the scent directly to my lungs. My breath caught momentarily. Good gracious, a man shouldn’t be allowed to smell so delectable.

My companion stumbled a few moments, trying to find his voice. Listening to him fumble for the right words, I took pity and put an end to the consternation.

“My name is Cici, sir. You’re obviously one of the new guys, or you would know my name, and know me on sight. Papa Sardi has given strict instructions to all of the dancers that they are to avoid me for the most part. Unfortunately, that warning doesn’t work so well if new dancers don’t know who it is they should avoid. I asked Colin to introduce me to the new dancers so we could avoid a scene out front.” I felt his eyes roaming all over me while I spoke. The trail of fire left in the wake of his gaze was quite disconcerting.

Hesitation and disbelief showed through his tone. “Why exactly would Mr. Sardi give such an order regarding an obviously beautiful woman?”

I knew I blushed. I hoped I was enough in the shadow still as to not be seen. “I don’t pretend to understand the attraction, sir. Men just seem to gravitate my direction. They tend toward staying near me. Then Sardi gets all worked up and ends up asking me to leave. I’m here to unwind after a hard month’s work, not to cause someone to lose their job.” I paused. “However, if you are concerned, I will return to my seat without fuss.”

The gentleman paused, contemplating my words. “Until I know how the routine works here, I greatly appreciate your offer to return to your seat and ask that you do so.”

Truly, I was a bit put out by his request, but I simply nodded and turned away. Colin stayed behind the curtain, and I went back to the table. Some of the ladies had finally arrived.

Marie was already well intoxicated. “Where were you? You’re always here first. I was beginning to think you’d skipped out on us.”

I shook my head and waved at the waiter for a refill. “I had to step to the ladies room. Do I even bother ask you girls what took so long?”

Another bouncer, Tom, stepped over with my favorite flavor, Captain Morgan and Coke. “Four seventy-five, Cici.”

I handed him a ten dollar bill and bid him keep the change. The twinkle in his eyes told me I’d given him a great start to the night. As if to accentuate the glitter, he leaned down and gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, doll.”

Ginger laughed loudly, drawing a few eyes from other tables our way, though their gazes didn’t linger. “The bouncer even, Cici? Marie told me you were a magnet, but I just couldn’t see it.” She took a moment to give me an appraising glance. “Of course, when you’re not decked out in that straight-laced suit with your hair tied back in a tight bun, it does wonders for your appearance. You look amazing tonight.”

I blushed again. I hated it, but I tended to embarrass easily. I hadn’t really done much, but she was right. Every day at the office, I wore a very strict suit, reminiscent of any man’s suit. The best way to be taken seriously in business was to look the part. Men weren’t threatened by you if you weren’t dressed to kill on a daily basis. My raven hair hung past my waist. If I didn’t keep it tied up, it just got in the way. After my shower, I’d taken the requisite two hours with the hair dryer and left it all hanging loose. The soft black slacks clung nearly like a second skin and were accentuated by the burgundy blouse. One side stood sleeveless with a brass buckle at the shoulder. The other boasted a long, flowing sleeve slit along the top with four small buttons scattered along the length holding it together. The deep v-cut met at a very form-fitting waist line and gave the appearance of having a bit more up top than what I really boasted. With the very light make-up application rounding off the look, I had amazed myself when I looked in the mirror. Anyone who did not know me would believe me to be just like the rest of the ladies here, seeking companionship for the night without a care for tomorrow.

Before I could respond, Papa Sardi signaled for my attention. I excused myself and went over to the bar. “What’s up, Papa Bear?” I flashed a very winning smile at him. I was the only person who ever got away with calling him such a simple epithet.

“Cici Malcom, I hear you were trying to slip backstage already?” The frown from his lips echoed in his furrowed brow.

I rolled my eyes. “I just wanted to introduce myself to your new dancers to keep from causing problems with the crowd tonight, Papa. I know just as well as you that when the ladies get ticked off, they don’t tip as well. The last thing I want to do is take money from your employee’s pockets.”

He leaned close as if to share a secret. “That’s kind of what I figured. I know you respect these guys. That’s the only reason I let you get away with hiding out back during the show.” He paused, letting his words penetrate my skull. “Yes, I know all about Colin letting you hide out back. For the record, I approve…but only for you. However, we have some potential investors here tonight. I can’t let you sneak off anywhere. You’re just going to have to be a little forceful with the new guys and make them dance elsewhere.”

It was my turn to furrow my brow. “Investors?”

He nodded. “Yep. I’m looking to open up a few franchises. The investors are here to see just how profitable this venture is. So, do me this favor tonight and help me out, will ya?”

I nodded. I understood completely what he said. Papa Sardi’s was a very lucrative business. If he needed me to vary my routine, I had no problem with that. I leaned toward him. “Any chance I can just slip out the back for a while, then? Tell them I’m your unofficial accountant, if you need an excuse. I just have to be able to escape occasionally. The GNO girls can be a bit overpowering at times.”

He chuckled. That was a good sign. Papa reached into his back pocket and retrieved a key card, handing it to me. “This will get you in and out the side door in the storage room without having to pay cover repeatedly. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? This is our little secret. If I didn’t like you so much, I’d just throw you out. But you don’t paw all over the guys like the rest of them.”

I kissed the elder man on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa Bear. I really appreciate it.” I tucked the key card in my bra.

His eyes followed the action. “I’m going to have that key card bronzed when I get it back.” He shook his head and heaved a big sigh. “If I were only thirty years younger…”

“If you were thirty years younger, Papa Bear, you’d give these show-offs a run for their money they’d never forget.”

***

The night was fairly uneventful while the usual guys came to stage. I really liked the set-up Papa Sardi used. While one dancer was on stage, at least four or five more wandered through the crowd. Too many shows stuck to one dancer at a time. They could never make their way through the crowd and would lose a lot of tip money because of it. With this arrangement, there was not a neglected patron in the building. I used several of the floor shows as reason to slip away from the crowd, into the storage room and out the back door. The air was so much cooler outside than in the bar. Once I heard the songs change, I knew I could return. This kept the guys from centering their attention on me.

A glance at my cellular showed the time nearing midnight. That meant we were near the end of the show. The new guys would be dancing soon. I slid the key card from my bra, passed it through the lock and found my way back to my seat.

Marie was fanning herself. “Oh, my gosh, Cici! You missed the most amazing…oh, my gosh!”

Ginger guffawed. “What she’s trying to say is that there are some prime cuts of beef in the new crowd. Sardi brought them out a round early to get them warmed up. Only a couple, and only one of them is taking the stage tonight, but—holy crackers, are they hotties!” She clapped her hands and pointed at the stage. “Here we go.”

I turned my chair to face away from the table and toward the catwalk. The spotlight shone bright, but the dancer hung back in the shadows. My breath caught in my throat at the picture presented. He wore all black, from his hat on down, including his long, sleek hair. As the music drifted through the room, he moved very slowly into the bright beam. Hat, trench coat, and cowboy boots. The song was slow and haunting.

The new dancer was experienced. He swayed with the music in more than just the usual ways. He truly danced as he shed one piece of clothing after another.

Beneath the hat, his hair glimmered with a clean, healthy appearance. I drew a long but shallow breath as the light revealed the fine, chiseled features. Strong cheekbones belied a possible Native American ancestry, as did the deep complexion. His eyes sparkled like emeralds. His expressions floated from lady to lady, causing hearts to melt and near swoons with the heat radiating from the intrepid gaze.

The trench coat slid next, slowly from his shoulders, pooling on his forearms, revealing a silk shirt beneath. He worked the crowd skillfully, letting several women slide their hands along his torso but not releasing the leather trench. While the music progressed, he worked his way along both sides of the catwalk and then descended the few steps to start along the tables. Every once in a while, he paused, encouraging one of the patrons to unfasten a button on his shirt. His chest was as chiseled as his face.

I had been so caught up watching his graceful movements that I hadn’t noticed my chair being cautiously slid along the floor until there was a small chasm between me and the rest of my group. It wasn’t until he glanced directly toward me that I caught the reflection in his gaze. I whipped my head around and caught several of my group waving twenties over my head.

“Oh, good grief,” I whispered and shook my head. My attention was away long enough that when I turned back toward the stage, I found myself staring directly at his well-structured abdomen. I gasped, realizing that he straddled my thighs and was inches from my face. Instantly, I regretted the breath. His musk entered my nostrils and went straight to my head. This was the shadow man from back stage earlier.

His soft and coercive voice washed over me. “I trust you will find I have been sufficiently warned, but your cohorts seem determined to have this be your dance.”

I cleared my throat. “Apparently.” I wiggled my fingers just to ascertain that my hands were still at my side and not on his enticing body anywhere.

He stepped back briefly and reached a hand toward me, inviting me to stand. Just on the edge of my peripheral vision, I noticed Papa Sardi give me a brief nod. I accepted his hand and let him guide me from my seat. Electricity shot through my arms. I knew everyone in the room had to be letting out some of the most raucous hollers ever, but the blood pulsing in my ears blocked all sound. Liquid heat pooled in my midsection, trying to spread.

He circled behind me, his breath caressing my neck. Shivers crept along my spine; I fought to maintain control. I felt warmth envelop me from behind as he stepped directly against my body. Slowly, a hand crept along in front of me, circling my waist, then sliding back where it came from, up my spine, then down the length of my arm. Everywhere he touched, his hand left a trail of fire in its wake. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of raging hormones these light caresses stirred.

After what seemed an eternity, I felt him return to stand before me. The veil of haze was pierced by sounds from the room. I forced my eyes to open. He took my hands in his one more time and led me back to my seat then continued his trek around the room.

It takes a lot to strike me speechless. That very sexual non-lap dance was one guaranteed way to keep me silent. I felt completely flushed and in desperate need of a very strong drink. I turned my chair back toward the table, grabbed my glass and downed the whole thing, quickly motioning for a refill.

All the GNO ladies were chattering about the unusual display, but I chose to ignore anything they had to say. I desperately needed to step outside to cool off, but my legs felt like jelly. I couldn’t walk if I tried. I’d been to many shows and gotten private dances from a very wide variety of men. This guy, however, had disturbed the sleeping dragon. Five years of chastity was desperate to come to an end.

Before I knew it, the show had reached the end. The volume of chatter rose exponentially. Still, I sat nursing another Morgan and Coke. I waited until the place was nearly abandoned before I gathered my things to leave. As I leaned down for my purse, I realized part of what caused the twitter among the GNO girls. He’d managed to slide his trench coat onto me without me even noticing.

I shrugged the article from my shoulders and straightened it. Just as I moved to fold it over the seat, I quickly lifted it to my face and inhaled that amazing musk. If I needed fuel for any fantasy, I was getting it from this new dancer. Finally, I laid the leather across the back of the chair, knowing Papa Sardi would make sure it got back to his employee. I waved to a few of the guys and stepped out into the cool evening air.

I drew a deep breath, hoping to cool the heightened awareness of every nerve in my body. So far, it wasn’t working. I looked as far as my eyes could reach in both directions. Not a single cab sat waiting. With all the energy in my body, I decided the mile and a half back to my flat would give me time to work some of it off. Maybe I’d actually be able to sleep. The ladies expected me to catch up to them at Oscar’s, but after that show, I just didn’t think I could handle being around the regular bar flies.

***