The Black Chapel (8 page)

“I’m not sure she will, but it could happen. My mother is very thorough and she trusts no one, not even me,” Michael says.

“Have you given her reason to trust you? I mean, we
are
trying to deceive her,” I say.

Michael’s lips squeeze together. “Are you telling me you want out?”

“No,” I say.

He reaches out and grabs my hand, his eyes intense now.

I swallow and lick my lower lip. Oh, wow. His eyes are so enticing, his touch so stimulating.

“Since she might hire a detective, we’ll have to step it up a notch and be a little more affectionate in public.”

I try not to smile too broadly. Holy crap. Can I do this? Oh absolutely!
“
Fine,” I say, as casually as I can muster with my heart in my suddenly very dry throat.

“Good.” He pats me on the knee and stands up. “Can I meet you for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I say.

“And we should probably spend the night at each others houses at least a couple of times this next week. Do you feel comfortable with that?” Michael says.

“Well that depends,” I say in a slightly sexy, inviting voice.

He’s taken aback, it looks like, and then his eyes darken. “I won’t take advantage of you, you know.”

I flush. But that’s what I want you to do
,
I think, but I smile and say, “I know. I trust you.”

He smiles. Oh those dimples!

I let him out the front door. But instead of saying good bye right away, he pulls me outside with him and then pushes me up against the wall, his hands around my waist.

“Stand. Very. Still,” he says, and I hold my breath. He moves so close to me, his nose grazing mine, and then he kisses me lightly on the lips. Pulling back just enough, he says, “Sorry if I took you off guard. My mother could be watching, and I didn’t want to miss an opportunity to show her how very much in love we are.” Then he kisses me passionately, his tongue gliding into my mouth. I’m beside myself, and feel very hot everywhere, especially between my legs.

He pulls away and then he’s off. “Tomorrow. Nine o’clock, babe!” He waves as he’s walking away, leaving me in a pile of ashes, desperately yearning for him to continue his sudden assault on me and quench the raging fire he has started.

Driving to work at The Black Chapel I really hope Michael’s not there. I decide I’m going to have to wear even more make-up and my heaviest masks so he won’t recognize me, in the event he shows up here. Getting to work is a little tricky, since I don’t want a possible detective stalker of Mrs. Manning to follow me and find out where I work. First I park three blocks away, then I sneak into a small grocery store, slip out the back door and take the back streets to work.

The second I walk in the door, Laila approaches me. “We need to talk.” She grabs me by the elbow and takes me into her over-stuffed office. “Sit down,” she says.

Shit, does she know about Michael and I? I’m nervous.

“Mr. Manning is being very persistent in asking for Samantha’s information. I don’t want to make him wait any longer. I need to know your decision today,” Laila says, sounding like she’s restraining her voice from yelling at me.

“Oh,” I say, extremely relieved that she doesn’t know my secret. “I’ve thought about it and I don’t think I’d like to give him my information. It’s just not the right time for me right now.”

Obviously, Laila had back up plans for me. “Would you consider meeting him in the Sanctuary at least?”

The Sanctuary is the private room where, though there is no sex involved, there is a whole lot of other stuff going on. I’ve never been in the Sanctuary, and up until now, I had promised myself I’d never enter.

He would surely recognize me if he got me in there so close, kissing… touching… fondling… I can se in my mind’s eye the whole disaster unfolding -my mask slipping off, him recognizing my kisses..—I feel my blood go to my head.

“Well?” Laila looks impatient. “I haven’t got all day, Scarlett. Let’s do this, shall me?”

“Can I keep my clothes on?” I ask.

“I’ll leave that up to you,” Laila huffs.

“And my mask, can I leave my mask on?”

“Also up to you.” Laila props her elbows on the desk and folds her arms. “Well?”

I hesitate, but then I think of his hands on my body, him wanting me. I’ll just have to be extra careful to not be myself when I’m in the Sanctuary with Michael. I spit out a
yes
.

“Thank you. I know this is probably beyond your comfort level, but I can guarantee you, it will mean a whole other level of living and income for you,” Laila says.

“And for you, too,” I say, lifting my right eyebrow.

“Yes,” Laila says dryly. She stands up, and locates her clipboard. “He’s already here waiting for you. Do your first number,
Angel of Mercy
, and I’ll cancel the rest of your numbers so you can be with Mr. Manning. He wants you in the Angel costume.”

I’m panicking now. So soon? “Aren’t you going to train me first?” I ask. Normally there is a one-week training period for all girls entering the Sanctuary.

“No time.” Laila slams the door behind her and the Christmas bell wreath jingles. She opens the door again and says, “When the lights go up in the Sanctuary, your time is up.” She shuts the door again.

Oh, dear. What have I done? He’ll recognize me, I’m sure. I haven’t even had time to process this. Ok, I’ll have to dim the lights sufficiently and keep my distance. Yeah, right, my mind says. But I’ll use my stage voice and apply a couple of other tricks that might work. Maybe he won’t recognize me. Oh, this is very bad.

In the dressing room, when I’m getting ready to perform, I spray on a different perfume than I normally wear—Anne’s. I insert purple colored contact lenses and do a heavy-duty make-up job.

“I hear you have a private meeting?” Anne, wearing her Naughty Little Elf costume, says and sits down next to me.

I break down. “What do I do? He’ll recognize me, I’m sure of it.”

“No he won’t. Just act differently. Use your angel voice and you’ll be fine. Trust me. I’ve done it a million times.”

“Are you sure?” I ask. “I’m starting to get confused.” I huff. “And Laila didn’t even train me yet.”

She turns to me. “Honey, here are the rules of the Sanctuary: Don’t be yourself. Don’t let yourself fall for this man. It will only end in heartbreak for you, so keep your professional distance. Just go with the flow, and never, ever let your guard down. Got it?”

I frown.

“You haven’t already fallen for him, have you?” Anne asks.

“No,” I say. “But I—” I stop. I can’t explain it. I really, really like Michael, and I can’t get enough of him.

“It will catch up to you, Scarlett. You’re playing too many games to keep things straight. Maybe you should just get it over with and tell him who you are?” Anne says.

“I can’t! He might pull the deal, and I really need that money, or my dad won’t get chemotherapy and I’ll lose my parents’ house.” I feel completely overwhelmed, like my life is teetering on the head of a needle.

“Well, would losing the house be so bad? I mean, you are starting to make a lot of cash here, and you could move into an apartment. Then you could save up some money for your dad’s treatments. If you needed to save even more money, you could stay with me,” Anne says.

“My father built that house with his own hands. I’d do almost anything to not lose my family’s home. And besides, my dad needs treatment way sooner than I can save up to it,” I say.

“But think about the facts. Take the emotion out of it. The mortgage is killing you. Wouldn’t you feel so much better starting fresh?” Anne says.

I scowl. “No.” Though starting fresh does sound heavenly.

“You’re up in two, Scarlett! Now get your head out of your ass!” Laila yells.

“We’ll talk later,” I say to Anne and head for the stage.

Michael is waiting for me at the back of the audience. He sits up a little taller when I take the stage. His eyes are burning with desire, and I feel the heat created between us all the way across the room. Why do I feel so sexy when I know he’s watching me dance?

All the while I’m dancing, I can’t keep my eye off him and can’t stop thinking about what he’ll do to me once he gets me inside the Sanctuary. Holy Heaven. What will
I
do? I finish my dance and the nearly full room applauds. Making my way down the stairs, I see Michael standing, waiting for me. His expression is hard to read in the dark, but the excitement between us is unmistakable.

Laila is waiting next to him, and when I arrive, she leads us in to the Sanctuary. I can hardly stand the anticipation.

“Mr. Manning has requested a thirty minute session, Samantha,” Laila says.

“Please keep the lights low,” I whisper to Laila and she nods.

We enter the red and white room and Laila closes the heavy satin curtain. The lights dim even further and I feel more at ease. Suddenly we’re alone, and my heart starts racing. Michael lays his overcoat across the red velour chaise lounges.

“Would you like to have a seat, Mr. Manning?” I say, gesturing to the white leather circular couch. I’ve never been in this room alone with a man before, and I remember telling Laila that I never wanted to when I had started working here. It was just not a boundary I felt comfortable crossing. But now that I’m here, all I feel is excitement to be alone with Michael.

Michael heads over to the bar and pours himself a vodka on the rocks. “Would you like one?”

“Yes, please.” I desperately need a drink, because my nerves are totally shot. Not only am I in a room with Michael alone, and he
wants
me, I have to keep my façade believable so he doesn’t figure out that I’m not only Samantha, but also Scarlett.

He hands me my drink and I swallow it down, wondering if he hires strippers like this a lot.

“More?” he asks.

I shake my head. If I allow myself to get too tipsy, I might not be able to keep up appearances.

He sits down on the couch and looks me in the eyes. “The first moment I saw you, I knew you were my angel.”

I have to squelch a laugh. His line is kind of cheesy, but the fact that it’s coming from him and that he thinks I’m his angel actually turns me on.

“I hope you can understand my hesitancy, Mr. Manning,” I say in my angelic voice. My wings are rubbing up against the back of the couch, and I find it hard to sit.

“Please, call me Michael.” He scoots closer, and I can feel the electricity in the air increase. The lights are really dim, and I’m grateful for that, especially now that he’s so close.

Should I tell him the truth that this is my first time, or feign competency. I go with the truth. “To be honest, Michael—” I love saying his name. “—I’ve never been in the Sanctuary before. You are the only one who has convinced me to—stretch my limits.”

He smiles and then strokes my cheek with the back of his hand. “That’s very sweet of you to say. I’d like to believe that.”

“It’s true,” I say, somewhat unsettled that he doesn’t believe me. But I suppose I can’t blame him. To him, I am only a stripper after all.

He pauses. “Well, then, I feel honored. It’s my first time, too.”

Now I don’t know if I believe
him
.

His hand makes its way down to my shoulder and chest and onto my thigh. “Is it okay that I touch you like this?”

“Yes.” I’m so heated, I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to straddle him and kiss him, but I’m not sure he’ll approve. Maybe he wants to be in charge.

His hand makes its way slowly up my thigh, and then stops short of my sex. I want to sigh, but I haven’t been trained on what to say or do in this room, so I smile instead. Being this close to him completely intoxicates me.

“May I kiss you?” he asks, grazing my lips now.

I smile. “In this room, you are the ruler,” I say, and I can’t wait for his lips to touch mine.

He pulls me closer and our lips touch. A shiver of pleasure goes through my body. His tongue glides across my bottom lip and he sucks on it gently. Instinct takes over and I straddle him and run my fingers through his cinnamon hair. I feel him hard up against my sex and it drives me wild. This heavy burning fire needs to be relieved.

He cups my breast with his hand and I moan into his mouth.

“Oh, Michael,” I say.

The mention of his name makes him go wild, and he pulls my hair gently back so he can kiss my neck.

I groan and he laughs. “You are so spellbinding, Samantha.”

I laugh, too. I grind my pelvis against his, and feel him so full and long. How long will it be until he makes me his?

“You smell and taste like an angel,” Michael says.

“I’m your angel,” I whisper.

“Will you dance for me?” he asks.

I climb up onto the round glass table and start dancing. I imagine his arms all over my nude body as I touch myself, and it is the most erotic dance I have ever performed. I put my finger in my mouth and suck on it.

Michael’s eyes are blazing, and he stands up and pulls me down off the table. He helps me take my wings off and then he gently lays me down on the couch and gets on top of me. His body feels firm and heavy on top of mine. He kisses me passionately and his hands are groping my derriere. I grab his hips and pull him closer. Can’t get close enough. Oh, shit. I don’t know if I can hold back any more. I need him inside me
now
.

“Please give me your information so I can call on you,” Michael says.

“No, I can’t,” I say.

Then the lights slowly go up. I realize I need to get out of here before it gets too bright and before he recognizes me. I turn my head to the side.

“I need to leave now, Michael.”

He stops kissing me. “Please give me your phone number so I can call you.”

“No,” I say.

He kisses me again. “Please?”

“No.”

“Then what about an email?”

I’d have to create a new one with my stage name. Totally doable. “All right,” I say.

He sits up and searches his overcoat pocket for a pen. I write my email address on a red napkin, hoping the email address isn’t taken already.