Peep (Brighten Sisters Book 2) (3 page)

“
C
haplin
, you better get your ass in gear. The show starts in forty minutes, and the Uber is waiting for us,” Jack yells from my front door.

“I’m coming!” I yell back.

I take one last look at the dark and deserted apartment across the alley. My shades are drawn as they always are when my lights are on, but she’s been MIA since our meeting in the closet. It makes me wonder about her. Every weekend she seems to be gone.

Does she go home to her parents?

Does she have a boyfriend?

This last thought has me stiffening and growing angry. I don’t want her to be with anyone but me. From this moment forward Tiffany Brighten is mine, whether she knows it or not. Fuck the rules.

“Dr. Douche, let’s go.”

Jack has always been so mature. I roll my eyes. “Where are we going?” I ask, not really caring as long as there is beer to be had.

“Some bar that Dr. Tim told me about. Apparently there is lots of alcohol and dancing girls.” He waggles his eyebrows.

“I’m not going to some strip joint.” I’m ready to jump out of this moving vehicle to avoid the disease infested club Jack-ass is undoubtedly taking me to.

“Easy, man. No need to bolt. This isn’t a titty bar. Give me some damn credit. I don’t need to pay for tits and ass.”

“Jesus,” I muse at his crass mouth.

“I’m not Jesus, I’m God,” he croons.

“Wow, now you’re blasphemous. My Catholic mother will pray for your soul.” Touching my hand to my forehead and continuing with the sign of the cross only feeds into his laughter.

Jack has a God complex, but he gets it honestly. His father is a total narcissist and one of the best orthopedic surgeons in the country. He was raised to believe he was superior. Thankfully, he doesn’t pull that shit on me. His father is outstanding, but mine is better.

“If this isn’t a strip club, then what is it?”

“Supposedly it’s a burlesque lounge. The dancers there are gorgeous. At least that’s what I’ve been told. We shall see.” He shrugs.

We drive a little further until the Uber pulls up to a building marked Faire L'amour Cabaret.

Good lord.

As we walk in, I take in the sleek sophistication of the place. The decadent nature oozes sex and sin. Low lighting and elegant furnishings only help to make the place more alluring.

I turn to Jack, who is sauntering about as though he owns the place. A scantly clad woman walking in his direction has him perking up.

“Jack, my love. I’m so glad you made it.” She takes him in her embrace, nearly suffocating him with her large chest. He doesn’t appear to mind at all. She is lovely although twice his age.

“Guys, this is Madam Loraine. She’s the owner.” She beams at him.

“Gentleman, welcome. I hope you enjoy our show tonight. Some of our best will be performing. Make sure you are here for the closing act. Our little Scarlet Pearl is here tonight. She’s a crowd favorite. You’ll know why when you see her.” She winks. “My Jack, I have the best seats in the house for you. Drinks are complimentary. Tip your server well.” She kisses him on the cheek and walks away, waving over her shoulder at us.

Strange lot.

Jack hooked us up. Our service throughout the night was impeccable. The acts are outstandingly bizarre, yet entertaining. Knife swallowing, fire throwing, tasseled ta-tas and loads of singing keep us enraptured for well over an hour while the never-ending bottles of liquor are served. Madam Loraine knows how to keep a man happy.

The lights dim even further, and a single spotlight shines on the middle of the stage for the closing act. This has to be Scarlet Pearl. We’ve heard murmurings throughout the evening about the infamous vixen that has everyone here on the edge of their seats. She has to be something spectacular.

From the ceiling, a seemingly naked woman is suspended by silk. At this point, I can only see her bare legs and long blonde hair. She’s alluring even from this limited vantage point. I watch transfixed as she twirls herself into some complicated handstand. People around me are oohing and ahhing, but I just keep watching this woman’s toned tanned legs.

The woman twists herself until she’s hanging from the silk with her legs behind her in an L-formation. Looking at her profile, my entire body goes still.

No. Fucking. Way.

“She kind of looks like that spicy little nurse from this afternoon. What was her name…Brighten?” Jack says from my right.

“Doubtful,” I stammer not thoroughly convinced it isn’t.

“Oh it’s her, I recognized her as soon as I saw her at the hospital. Why do you think I brought you here? This isn’t your type of place, but I thought you’d enjoy this little surprise.” He chuckles.

She lowers herself all the way to the floor hiding behind the piece of silk she was just hanging from. The music switches over to a sensual rhythm. Soon one red stiletto clad foot appears, running its way up the length of the piece of silk covering the woman. When she steps out from behind, my breathing stops.

Tiffany Brighten. Fucking hell.

I shoot daggers at Jack’s head. “It’s not her,” I lie.

“It is”.

She appears naked with the exception of a nude colored bandeau covering her breasts and a tiny nude thong. I’m ramrod straight in my chair. I have the urge to run onto the stage and cover her. I don’t want other guys seeing
my
girl.

It may seem premature, considering we’ve only been together once and technically we’re forbidden, but she’s
mine
as far as I’m concerned.

I watch as her hips sway to the music. She dips her head between her legs showcasing just how flexible she is. My dick becomes painfully hard, and I shift in my seat, adjusting my growing erection. Jack doesn’t miss my uncomfortable movement.

“She is seriously hot.”

I want to murder him. Right here, right now. Dead.

“These seats are uncomfortable,” I lie, and he gives me a cocked eyebrow letting me know he’s not buying my story either.

She disappears off the stage, and a brunette wielding hula hoops comes front and center and starts to showcase her less than stellar talent. Compared to the number before hers, it hardly seems fair.

After five minutes of watching the hula hoops glide over the woman’s body, I’m ready to make my way backstage. I don’t care if I get kicked out. Just before I stand, the music changes once more and hula-girl exits stage right just in time for Tiffany to come back onstage dressed like Marilyn Monroe.

Holy Shit.

S
he’s wearing
the iconic white dress and blonde wig. Her lips are painted a bright red and if that’s not enough she opens her mouth and begins to sing. The sound that comes out does something to me. She’s so talented, and I’m mesmerized. She twists and twirls making that fucking dress spin just enough to give us all a glimpse of her ass cheeks.

I’m having heart palpitations. I akin this feeling to how those super crazy boy band fans feel except I’ve
had
this girl. Once wasn’t enough. I’m beginning to wonder if I’ll ever get enough.

Crazy talk?

Perhaps.

Do I care?

Fuck, no.

I have to have her, so I do what any normal guy would. I wait until the act ends, and I head toward the stage rooms. No more waiting. Everyone in the room saw her ass and that ass is about to be mine.

I
stare
at myself in the giant stage mirror in front of me. My face is caked with makeup, and my lips are blood red. You would never be able to tell that I’m bone tired. Just as I reach for a tissue to wipe off the night, the door to the backstage dressing rooms swings open. My eyes widen as I take in the man stalking toward me.
What the hell is he doing here
? Why is Dr. Chaplin in my dressing room? Oh my God…

Did he see me perform?

I can feel heat rush against my face, and I’m sure the color of my cheeks is bright crimson. “What are—”

“What am I doing here?” He breathes out through flared nostrils as he makes his way to stand in front of me.

“Umm, yeah,” I mumble.
I’m so confused.
Of all the places in the city, how is he here? I’ve been working here all these months, and I’ve never seen him. Even before I started dancing, I had been here working the bar and never had my worlds crossed. My eyebrow rises up. It doesn’t make sense now that they would.

“Are you stalking me?”

“No, Of course not.” His brows furrow as his eyes look to the left. “No, just a happy coincidence, but after that performance, maybe I need to.”

The curve of his lip rises on the left side of his face, causing the most perfect grin to form. I melt. The look he’s giving me makes everything inside of me turn into a puddle of need.

I shake my head back and forth, trying to get my head together. “Wait, what are you doing back here?”

“Claiming what’s mine,” he says as he crashes his mouth against me.

I try to break free, to understand how this all happened, but as his lip becomes one with mine, I’m completely lost in him. We’re devouring each other. Our mouths caressing, sucking, licking, biting each other…

We can’t get enough.

Pulling back, he looks down at me. “You’re so gorgeous. Look at you.” His strong hands turn me around. From behind, I can feel his tongue trailing at my neck. The breath leaving his body has goose bumps forming across my skin.

He pushes me forward, and my body bends over the dressing table. I catch my image in the mirror in front of me. My eyes are huge and dilated. His hand grasps at my costume, pulling my skirt up and hiking it to expose my barely covered ass. I feel a tug on my crystal-encrusted thong, that was visible in my dance number.

“Seeing this almost killed me. I almost jumped on stage and fucked you in front of the entire audience. Would you have liked that? Would you have liked me to fuck you with an audience? Would that turn you on?”

If he only knew how much having someone watching me turns me on.

“I can smell you from here… If I touched you right now, I bet I would find you drenched.” His hand cups my mound, and I let out an audible sigh at the contact. “Watch as I finger fuck your pussy. Look at yourself,” he moans as his finger spreads my folds and opens me to him.

My breathing picks up, and my chest begins to heave as he slowly enters me. I watch myself in the mirror as he pumps his digits inside me. It’s the most erotic sight I’ve ever seen. Dilated pupils, flushed face, my whole body shaking with desire…

The feeling swirling inside me begins to rise, and just when I start to fall over the edge, he pulls his hand away, and I can see my juices coating his fingers. Through the mirror, I watch under hooded lids as he licks his fingers, sucking my essence off.

“I saw you up there and needed to claim you. That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to lick you, and then I’m going to fuck you so hard. I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk and then bathe you in my cum so everyone knows you’re mine.” His head turns from me, as he peers across the room. “I want to eat you now, but not like this. Sit over there.” He motions his hand across the room to the swing prop hanging from the ceiling.

My lips split into a huge grin. This is one of my signature props I use for my performances. It’s so instrumental for my act that Madame Loraine installed one backstage in the dressing for me to practice on.

W
alking
to the center of the room, I strip off all my clothes. I place my body in the hammock style swing and spread my legs. His eyes dilate as he takes in all that I’m offering to him. He drops down to his knees, he leans in and swipes his tongue across the seam of my pussy.

“You taste so sweet,” he says as he continues to lick me, trailing his tongue up toward my engorged clit and locking on to the swollen nub. My hands grip his hair as I grind my pussy against his mouth. His lips tighten around me and suck even harder. The new pressure has me tightening my grip in his locks and screaming out as my whole body spasms from my release.

Abruptly he stands and unzips his pants. His rock hard length stands proudly in front of me, and I lick my lips in anticipation. I can see a bead of moisture lining the tip…

I wonder what he tastes like.

“I see the way you’re looking at me, and as much as I want to stuff your mouth full of my cock, I need your tight pussy.”

He strokes himself a few times as he aligns himself with my dripping wet hole. His cock rubs across my entrance, lubing himself up before he inches inside me. I watch and wait for him to push all they way in. He’s so slick, he glistens in the light. One move and he will be encased within me. But he doesn’t enter me. Instead, I’m shocked when he places his hands on my knees and pushes me away from him. The swing lurches back and then sends me toward his cock, allowing him to slip deep inside me. My pussy grips him tightly and then he slips back out. I contract desperately, aching to be filled again. Just when I think I can’t take it anymore, my body sails back in his direction and impales him. Our bodies join together in a perfect symphony.

I gaze down to where we meet and watch as his cock thrusts in and out of me with the movement of the swing, taking him in completely and then releasing him. It’s effortless and perfect. Nothing has ever felt this good.

“Oh God,” I moan as the pace picks up, a rhythm so fast and hard I can’t hold back my sounds of pleasure. His face contorts, and I can feel his hands tighten around me, stopping my movements. He’s buried deep inside me, when his cock starts to jerk. Soon he is spilling his seed, coating my walls with his warmth. The feeling of being bathed in his cum has my whole body trembling and quaking. I clench around him, following him over the edge of ecstasy.

“We’re going back to your place,” Tommy whispers into my ear.

“Are we now?”

“Yes, I want you in your bed. I want to see where you sleep.”

I nuzzle into him. “Okay.”

“Okay? Just like that?”

“Mm-hmm,” I murmur, completely sated.

We hear a rumbling noise, and it occurs to me that the stage crew probably thinks I’ve gone for the evening and are cleaning up. I jump up and scramble to find my clothes. It wouldn’t be the first time they’ve caught cast fucking, but that’s not like me. I
never
do that, and I’m not about to get caught now. I’d never live it down.

“Tiff, what-where do I go?”

I chuckle, watching him panic as he stands half-naked trying to hide his assets from the onlookers.

“Here, go in here.” I push him into a closet. It’s obviously becoming our thing.

The cleaning crew comes in with a prop, and when they notice I’m still here, they exit quickly. After a few minutes, Tommy strolls out dressed and strutting.

I take him in from head to toe. He’s a dream—brilliant, funny, and entirely too beautiful. It really is unfair to the population of males worldwide. No one person should be
this
perfect.

“You look nauseatingly happy.”

“I’m feeling pretty good, Ms. Brighten. Let’s get out of here.”

I sigh, reaching for his outstretched hand. He takes mine in his, and we bid the cabaret a goodnight.