Cervena (3 page)

“Fuck,” I hissed again, just as Karel glanced my way and smirked.

“Getting hot under the collar, Joel?”

I scowled and didn’t answer. A damp patch in my underwear surrounded the head of my dick, and I couldn’t help imagining Sasha performing just for me.

As if he’d heard my thoughts, Sasha faced my way, parted his legs, and threw his head back. He stroked his hands over his chest and stomach as he continued to move to the music, thrusting his crotch toward an imaginary lover. As he ran his hand over the bulge in his shorts, I gulped to swallow the abundance of saliva in my mouth, and squirmed uncomfortably in my seat. How the fuck was I going to endure this every night?

None of the others had ever affected me like this, except maybe Phillippe. He was a French dancer who’d worked for us some time ago; a little older than the others, but just as hot. He’d been my last relationship. We’d continued to see each other after he’d left the club and worked for another establishment that paid better. I hadn’t complained at the time. My jealousy hadn’t been easy to control when I’d had to watch his private dances on the screens in the viewing room. The relationship had ended when he got fired from the other club and decided to go home to Marseilles. I’d never found out the reason for his dismissal, and the only thing I could do was put him out of my mind.

Sasha’s song ended and he climbed down from the podium, scooped up his clothes, and hurried off the dance floor. When he returned to the bar five minutes later he’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I’d had time to compose myself, and my erection had reduced to half-mast.

“Pretty good.” Karel was the first to speak.

I cleared my throat and looked up at Sasha’s flushed face. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead from his exertion. “That was great, Sasha. You think you’ll be okay in front of a crowd?”

“I think so. I think about something else. Imagine I’m somewhere else.”

“Whatever helps. The schedule is on the back of the door in the dressing room. You’ll have three slots tonight.”

“I’ll leave you to carry on.” Karel got up and went to the bar.

“Was it really okay?” Sasha asked.

“You’re a natural. You look like you get lost in the music.”

“Yeah.” He grinned and his green eyes sparkled. “That’s how I feel.”

“You must have practiced somewhere before.”

“In front of a mirror in my bedroom. My parents would never have let me go out to parties or clubs.”

“You seem to be settling in well—fitting in with the others.” I hadn’t had much opportunity to talk to him since that first night. I’d checked on him a couple of times but otherwise left him in the hands of the boys. I’d given Tomáš one of the company credit cards and instructed him to take Sasha for his haircut and to buy clothes. They’d made a day of it and returned with so many bags they could barely carry them. Tomáš had been filled with glee, while Sasha had seemed guilt ridden and embarrassed.

“They all seem nice. Tomáš is becoming a good friend.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“Not like that.” Sasha chuckled and avoided my eyes. “He’s not my type.”

I opened my mouth to ask what his type was but bit back the question. He’d only arrived a week ago. I didn’t want my attraction to him to be obvious and make him feel awkward or under pressure. He needed the job more than he needed me bothering him. I reminded myself of the fifteen-year age gap and besides, he probably wouldn’t be interested in me.

“I’m glad you get along well with them. What about Karel?”

“I’ve barely seen him. He spoke to me once on the day after I arrived.”

I heaved a sigh of relief. I wouldn’t put it past Karel to try and break in the new boy, despite my warning to leave Sasha alone. Bohdan and Marek had seen their brief involvement with Karel as entertaining one of the bosses, but there’d been another boy a year ago. Dominik from Slovakia had only worked for us for three weeks. Karel had fucked him twice, grown bored like he usually did, and left Dominik hurt and confused. He’d confided in Marek how he felt, but he hadn’t been able to continue working at the club. He’d slipped away one night without even leaving a note.

Sometimes I wondered how I managed to remain friends with Karel. Some of the things he did either annoyed me or turned my stomach, but on the whole things worked well between us. He’d had my back when I was finding my feet in a new country, and he was a good business partner, so I tended to overlook the rest of it.

“I want to say thank you.” Sasha’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“I do. You didn’t have to take me in that night. I’ve seen many homeless people in this city. You could easily have turned me away or called the police. I never expected—” He gazed around him. “—all this.”

“It was a good decision. I’m glad you’re here, Sasha.”

I wanted to keep talking to him, but I excused myself and went to get my coat from the office. It was early afternoon and I had eight hours before the club opened. I intended to go home and have dinner before I got ready to go out again. I had no intention of missing Sasha’s debut and planned to watch all three of his performances.

The cleaning team arrived as I left, ready to scrub the floors, wipe down the tables and chairs, and ensure the toilets were spotless before the Saturday night crowd arrived. I left them to get on with their work and made my way home.

WHEN I
returned to the club seven hours later, the city center was already buzzing. Every bar I passed was filled with people, some spilling into the streets; a normal Saturday night. I stepped into the road to skirt around a couple dancing on the footpath. I had a smile on my face as I let myself into Červenà. Pausing in the doorway of the dressing room, I greeted the boys. Sasha sat in front of a mirror, dressed in his first outfit of the night, under which I knew he’d be wearing the skimpy black silk underwear. Tomáš stood beside him and applied hair gel to Sasha’s freshly shorn locks to make them stand on end.

“Evening, boys.” I spoke in Czech as usual. Sasha was learning as he’d said he would, and he answered the same way the others did. I left them to finish getting ready and headed into the bar. I’d taken my place on a bar stool before Bohdan caught up with me.

“May I speak with you, Joel?”

“Of course. Drink?” I gestured at Kris, one of the bartenders, who was already getting me a beer.

“No, thank you. I know I should have done this officially and written you a letter, but I haven’t got around to it, and I need to tell you. I—”

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

Bohdan’s eyes widened and he flushed. “I’m sorry. Is it that obvious? I hate to let you down.”

“It’s all right.”

“Karel will be mad.”

“Let me worry about him. Do you have another job to go to?”

“I’m going to a dance school in Vienna.”

My mouth fell open. I hadn’t seen that coming.

“I saved,” Bohdan went on. “That’s why I do so many lap dances. I didn’t say anything because I thought the others would tease me and say I’d never do it. But I got a place. I leave tomorrow. I meant to give you more notice, but I kept putting it off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s all right. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.” I grasped his hand and shook it, then drew him close and gave him a hug. “Work hard and do well. You certainly seem determined.”

“I am. I’m sorry if I seemed like I wasn’t pulling my weight sometimes. I did a lot of practice in my room for my auditions. Then I kept sleeping late.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve been a good worker. I think we can overlook a few late shows. Bohdan, if you need any kind of reference, for the school or anything else, get in touch with me, okay? Or for anything else you need.” Bohdan didn’t have the support of a family. He’d been in a children’s home until the age of sixteen, then worked in a factory for two years before he came to us.

“Thank you, Joel.” Bohdan relaxed and smiled at last. “What do you think Karel will say?”

“Don’t worry about him, he’s not here. Enjoy your last night with us. See me before you go. I’ll make sure you have a little parting gift.” I would give him a decent bonus to help him get by in Vienna.

I remained at the bar until the club opened that night. Karel came in to greet me, but within half an hour he’d picked up a young guy and disappeared. I didn’t bother to try to speak to him about Bohdan—I’d call him the next day. I was relieved I’d be able to watch Sasha without Karel making fun of me.

Fran performed first, followed by Marek. Crowds formed around the podium, thinning after each dancer finished his act, and quickly regathering as the next was announced. When Tomáš came out after Marek, cheers showed his popularity, and some of the men edged closer, reaching out but not quite touching. I impatiently tapped my fingers on my thigh. I’d prepared the schedule myself and Sasha was up last, but I was eager to see how he got on. I hoped he wouldn’t be too nervous to get on the podium or alternatively make it up there and then freeze.

Another thirty minutes passed while I watched Andĕl and Bohdan. I’d already taken some cash from the safe to give to Bohdan and had a word with some of the others. A little announcement was planned for him at the end of the night.

As always, Bohdan climbed down from the podium with his shorts stuffed with cash and the spotlight dimmed for the duration of a couple more songs before it was Sasha’s turn. Ralph, the British DJ whom I’d recruited four years ago while on a trip home, cut the music and picked up his mic.

“Something special for you tonight, guys. We have a new dancer!”

A roar of appreciation went up from the clubbers.

“Please give a warm welcome to our new Russian boy, Sasha!” Ralph lowered the mic and set up the next track. As the intro began, Sasha emerged and strode confidently toward the podium. The crowd around it parted to let him through. He climbed up and stood in the middle, feet a little farther than hip distance apart.

My pulse quickened and my mouth went dry as I waited for him to start moving. He tilted his head back and half closed his eyes as he had in his rehearsal. He didn’t look scared or embarrassed; more as if he were imagining himself elsewhere, the way he’d said he did.

Sasha moved slowly at first, swaying with the music, hands raised above his head. His outfit consisted of a black silk shirt, so tight the buttons threatened to come undone when he moved. His loose black pants were wide enough in the leg for him to kick them off over his boots. Heat rushed to my groin as I anticipated him stripping.

It didn’t take long. A minute into the song, and the rapt audience was treated to an almost-naked Sasha, gyrating and thrusting his hips in every direction. He didn’t appear aroused, but as the music pulsed, he ran his hands down his body, cupping himself and stroking until his cock swelled. Mine thickened and throbbed as I watched.

A tall man reached up with a note in his hand, caught hold of Sasha’s ankle, and tucked the money into his boot. He kept his feet still while his body continued to move rapidly. A number of other men followed suit, pushing money into Sasha’s boots. Some stretched up to tuck their bills into the back of his shorts or one of the legs. One man took the opportunity to give Sasha’s ass a squeeze, caressing the exposed part of his buttock just a little too long. I clenched my jaw, my heart thudding. There was nothing between Sasha and me, but I felt the same possessive pang I’d felt when I watched Phillippe dance.

I glanced over at one of the security guards, poised to step in. But Sasha stepped away from the groper, dislodging his hand and turning to give the men on the other side of the podium a better look. I stared at his ass, wondering what he’d look like under the shorts. His chest was smooth and hairless with only a narrow line of hair leading from his navel into his waistband. I imagined his pubic region to be neatly trimmed.

“Damn it,” I muttered. My balls ached, and I wondered why I was denying myself. I could probably seduce Sasha the way Karel did with the boys he liked, but I couldn’t help thinking Sasha might go along with it out of gratitude, and I didn’t want that.

I released a frustrated sigh as he finished his dance and paused for a moment to allow his captive audience to tuck more money into his underwear or press it into his hands. Abruptly, he climbed down from the podium, grabbed up his discarded clothes, and went back to the dressing room.

“Hot, yes?” Kris leaned over the bar so I could hear him above the music.

“Uh, yes, he is. Get me a beer, please, Kris.”

The rest of the evening crawled by. I watched the other dancers perform another routine each. Then Bohdan and Fran took time out for lap dances. I didn’t see Bohdan for the rest of the night and assumed he was making the most of his admirers, to top up his dance-school fund. Sasha danced twice more in the next two hours, wearing different outfits from the supply Tomáš had helped him pick out. The second costume was blue and the last one white. The underwear consisted of a microscopic white jock that barely covered him. My guess about him being trimmed was correct; nothing was visible other than firm, pale flesh.

Bohdan eventually returned after I had Tomáš interrupt his antics and tell him to get down into the club. Ralph stopped the music, announced that Bohdan was leaving us for dance school, and called him up on the podium to take a bow. He climbed down several minutes later with his underwear stuffed with money. I beckoned him over and gave him the envelope containing his bonus. Tears glistened in his eyes, and he seemed overwhelmed by the appreciation he’d received. He apologized again for giving me so little notice, but I brushed it aside.

There were no more performances that night. Tomáš and Marek had gone to give lap dances, but there was no sign of Sasha. I spent a few minutes arguing with myself before I went looking for him. The least I could do was tell him how well he’d done on his first night.

I found him in the dressing room, mercifully wearing proper clothes. He sat in a corner, sipping from a bottle of water, and he quickly stood when I entered.

“Hi, Joel.”

“Hey. You did well tonight.”