Читать книгу Too Hot to Sleep - Stephanie Bond - Страница 8

“COME ON, GEORGIA, stop gawking and start squawking!” Toni laughed and dragged Georgia to her feet, then cupped her hands over her mouth and hooted at the gyrating man on stage. The naked bodybuilder wore a headdress and twirled a short stick with fire at both ends, seemingly oblivious of the danger to his lineage. He moved across the stage in little hops to the beat of the calypso music blaring from speakers at deafening decibels. His body was remarkably muscled and proportioned to the point of deformity. Georgia could only stare, and Toni cheered like a woman who’d never before seen a baton.

In fact, the entire room undulated with hundreds of standing women, their hands raised to offer tips, their voices lifted to offer encouragement to the men who performed on the U-shaped runway. Of course, the dancers didn’t require much urging to remove every stitch of clothing and wag the audience into a frenzy. The throbbing music and high-pitched screams reached such a staggering crescendo, Georgia was certain the shaking mirrors that flanked the stage would shatter at any moment.

She suddenly swayed and grabbed the back of the chair in front of her for support. Embarrassment rolled over her in waves. Every square inch of her skin tingled. Her breasts felt heavy and, since the room was stifling hot, she couldn’t blame their hardened points on the cold. Her stomach swam with dizzying desire.

Georgia held her breath and allowed the atmosphere to consume her. The scent of the performers’ body oils, the taste of perspiration on her upper lip, the press of bodies around her, the flashing spotlights that criss-crossed the room, the pulsing music, all swirled around her like a haze of sexually charged ions. It wasn’t so much the dancers’ naked bodies but the blatant openness that she found so titillating, the fact that the men were proud of their physiques, and that the women weren’t afraid to express their appreciation.

Georgia wet her salty lips. It was enough to drive a decent woman to do things she might not ordinarily do.

She fumbled behind her for her untouched rum drink. Curving her hand around the cool glass, she lifted it to her feverish cheek. Georgia glanced at Toni to see if her friend had noticed she was quietly freaking out, but Toni was laughing and waving dollar bills.

Thinking the alcohol might numb her too-keen senses, Georgia gulped the drink. The fire twirler exited in a blaze of glory, only to be replaced by a construction worker with a swaying tool belt. Within minutes, he had stripped down to his hard hat and was taking bids from the women on the perimeter of the stage. Georgia felt a tingling in her thighs and frustration crowded her chest. She tried to project Rob’s face onto the body of the dancer, but she couldn’t reconcile the two separate images of stability and sensuality.

“Some hammer, huh?” Toni asked, nudging Georgia out of her reverie.

“Hmm?” Georgia scanned the man’s considerable attributes. “Oh, yeah, I guess.” She drained her glass in another deep swallow.

“Hey, are you okay? I was just teasing about Rob earlier. Did you guys have a fight or something?”

“No.”

Toni’s eyes narrowed and she jerked her head toward the ladies’ room.

Georgia grabbed her purse and followed a bit unsteadily, sensing an inquisition but grateful for the break from the onslaught of erotic cues.

Before the door closed behind them, her friend had lit a menthol cigarette. Georgia frowned, then opened her purse and retrieved a lipstick. “I didn’t know you smoked.”

Toni exhaled and leaned her rail-thin body against a condom vending machine. “Special occasions only. So, are you having a good time?”

She ran a finger around the collar of the sleeveless white button-up shirt she’d worn tucked into loose black jeans. “Sure.”

“Liar. You’ve been in another world all night.”

Her heart pumped the rum through her body, bypassing her empty stomach and sending the alcohol straight to her brain, making her feel floaty and somewhat philosophical. “I have the all-overs.”

Toni squinted. “The all-overs? Funny, I don’t remember that one from school.”

Georgia turned and stared at her flushed reflection in the mirror and talked while she drew an uneven line of mocha lipstick onto her mouth. “I’m restless, fidgety, distracted.”

“Horny?”

Leave it to Toni to cut to the chase. She sighed, puffing out her cheeks, liking the way her laugh lines disappeared. “Toni, do you think I would know if Rob was gay?”

Her friend choked, then coughed out a cloud of smoke. “Probably. Why would you think that?”

She blotted the lipstick with a rough paper towel. “I don’t really. It’s just that I can’t figure out his…likes and dislikes.”

Toni chortled and dismissed Georgia’s concern with a wave. “They all have hang-ups, babe. My old boyfriend liked Aerosmith on the stereo when we made love. Go figure.” She pressed fingers to her temples and closed her eyes. “Let me guess. Rob wants the lights off, and his socks on.”

Georgia gave her a wry smile. “I wouldn’t know.”

Her friend’s eyes bulged. “You mean the two of you have never had sex?”

“Right.”

Toni pursed her lips. “Wow. How far have you gone? Second base? Third?”

Georgia quirked her mouth side to side. “I’ve never been quite sure what constitutes second and third base.”

“You’re stalling.”

“Okay, we’ve kissed.”

“No uncontrolled groping?”

“No.”

“No nipplage?”

“Nada.”

“No oral sex?”

She shook her head.

“Damn, no wonder you think he’s gay. But I have a lot of homosexual friends, and I’d bet money that Rob is not gay.”

Georgia tilted her head and inspected her own reflection. “Which means he doesn’t find me sexually attractive.”

Toni’s face appeared over her shoulder. “Look at you—great hair, great face and great body. I’m telling you, the man is probably intimidated.”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, yeah, that’s me, Miss Intimidation. I’m not exactly a siren, Toni.”

“Precisely. Most of the time you look like Miss Untouchable.” The cigarette bobbed wildly. With a flick of her wrist, she removed the clip that held Georgia’s dark hair away from her face, then fluffed the long layers. “And here.” Toni removed a cranberry-colored lipstick from her purse. “Toss that brown stuff and try this.”

Georgia applied the new color, then frowned. “It’s bright.”

“Yes, ma’am.” She twisted Georgia sideways, then unbuttoned her white shirt until the little pink bow on her bra was exposed. “Do you have to wear the bra?”

“Yes!” Bare skin under thin white cotton? Oi.

“Okay, okay.” Toni pulled out Georgia’s shirttail and tied the front ends high enough to expose her navel. “There. You just need to loosen up. I’m sure all Rob needs is a signal.”

She looked back to her reflection and pursed her mouth. “You think?”

Toni dotted the cranberry lipstick onto Georgia’s cheeks, then blended the color with her thumb. Someday her friend would make a wonderfully smothering mother. “Definitely. Do something to shake him up a little. You know, show up at his place wearing nothing but a belt or something like that.”

Georgia chewed on her lip. “And what if he turns me down?”

Toni shrugged. “It’ll be his loss and then you’ll know where you stand. But trust me, he won’t turn you down.”

Her friend had a knack for making things seem so black-and-white. And even as her tongue formed more words of protest, Georgia stared at her new wanton image in the mirror and warmed to the possibilities. She’d worked her way through college and three years of post-graduate work. Every day she handled life-threatening situations at the hospital. So why would she be worried about making a pass at a man she’d been dating for several months? Maybe because it was safer to let him go on thinking she was Miss Modesty than to risk unleashing the passion that boiled beneath the surface. She didn’t want to come across as some kind of…well, any of those names her mother had called her father’s string of faceless girlfriends.

“Come on,” Toni said, snuffing out her cigarette. “Let’s buy Stacey a table dance—I saw her eyeing the pirate. Besides,” she added with a wink, “we have some planning to do.”

Georgia followed her friend, rubbing the headache forming just behind her ear. While most people had a conscience, her conscience had a conscience—a something that reined in her urges, and kept her on her best behavior.

She swallowed. At least so far.

GEORGIA SLIPPED INSIDE her apartment door and swatted at the light switch. Still buzzing slightly from her last drink, she kicked off her shoes next to the couch and glanced at her new phone contraption, but the message light wasn’t blinking. How flattering. She removed the portable phone from the base and headed for the bedroom, not the slightest bit sleepy. In fact, her pulse kicked higher with every step.

Over the past few hours, she’d thought about Toni’s advice and allowed herself to be carried along on the crest of the erogenous wave rolling through the strip club. She’d decided her friend was right—Rob was waiting for her to make a move. So, during a shared cab ride home, Toni had settled upon the least threatening, yet highly erotic option: phone sex.

Despite that phone sex was a favored fantasy of hers, Georgia felt obligated to protest on behalf of the upstanding girl she was purported to be. Besides, she didn’t know how to do it.

Toni had pshawed. “What’s to know? You talk, you moan, you hang up.”

“But how do I ask him if he wants to?”

“Don’t ask, just do.”

And if Rob were totally offended, Georgia reasoned, she could always move to the Midwest and change her name.

Moving slowly in the dark, she slipped out of her shoes. Could she pull it off? The fact that she’d never participated in phone sex before only heightened her anticipation. Her chest rose and fell more rapidly, her breasts tingled, her thighs grew moist.

She turned on a lamp, then dimmed the illumination to bathe her Verdigris iron bed and the mustard-colored comforter. After stepping out of her jeans and folding them over the padded seat of her vanity table, Georgia sat on the edge of the bed and sank her crimson-tipped toes into a green hooked rug she’d made when she was fifteen—a lifetime ago. At that age she had fantasized of romance and physical bliss, never imagining one element without the other. She had thought by now she would’ve met a man who could provide a constant supply of both. Could Rob?

She sighed. Well, soon enough she would know if her fantasies would get him off, or scare him off.

Georgia glanced at the clock. One-thirty, Wednesday morning. Rob would be in deep REM sleep. Although if things went to plan, he’d be wide awake within a few seconds. Before she had time to reconsider, she slipped off her white cotton panties and left them lying on the rug. Her hands shook slightly as she held the phone and pushed the button to retrieve Rob’s preprogrammed number.

When his phone began to ring, warmth flooded her abdomen. After the third ring, she panicked and started to hang up, but before she could locate the darned Talk button, she heard his sleep-fuzzy voice come over the line.

“Hello?”

Her heart thudded so loudly she could barely hear him. “Hi, Rob, this is Georgia.”

“Hmm?”

“D-don’t talk,” she said, then leaned back against a pile of pillows and lowered her voice to what she hoped was a sexy tone. “Just listen.”