Chapter Three: Masquerade Part 1
With his hands in his pockets, Jacob held his head low. A hooded leather jacket covered his face and naked torso beneath its smooth, cool seams. Taking small strides up the dimly lit street, his nerves clenched while a dark silver hatchback parked by the curb. Seeing a lady and her baby exit the driver's seat, he relaxed again. Being dressed like a mugger himself, warily, she watched him for a moment as he continued on.
Reaching the club, overhead lights of neon pink and blue glowed down from the sign tilted, 'Premium Fun House.' The golden light of 'open' was still out.
Pulling the door to, its edge caught on the corner of a chalkboard sign. Glancing at it, his eyes rolled. It's fancy, neat writing was obviously Miranda's. The script was as sickly fake as she was—perfect. She made herself out to be a queen, his queen, where all must obey and treasure her, when really; she was lower than a street urchin.
'Masquerade's final night!' it read. A dark smirk came over Jake's mouth as he slipped inside. He had made this place what it was—one of the top strip clubs within Washington—without him, this side of her business would be closed within a month.
From the door, he could see the back wall stage done up in blue satin. Bright blue lights shifted and moved over the dark floorboards. Small fairy-lights lined the extended catwalk-like pathway and the base of the stage. More lights were wrapped around trees planted in terracotta pots. At the end of the catwalk, was a pole. Small round tables with single or double chairs were placed over the room. A single white cloth dangled over the edges of the tables.
Stepping further inside, looking up to the ceiling was like seeing the insides of any mechanical device. Up there, was where the lights and ropes could come down and swivel over the room. In his eight years of working here, he never showed up any earlier than ten minutes before the show. He never helped with the setup of the stage. Only with the costumes: hooking and unhooking bras, feathers tops, bunny ears and tails rap gear, police, paramedic, nurse gear.
Making his way around back and down a narrow, red-bricked hallway, down from the bathrooms, Jake pushed the dressing room door open to see his best friends Embry and Paul pulling on black and yellow firefighter gear. The trousers hung around their black boots. The red suspenders gripped down on their shoulders, hiding their nipples but centring their abs into point of view.
"Hey guys," Jake slightly smiled, setting his bag down beside the floor to ceiling mirrors, lining one side of the room.
"Heyya Jake."
"Jake, what the hell?!" Paul snapped turning around. He had a stick of eyeliner in his hand. "You're leaving us dude?"
"You don't need that," Embry muttered, plucking the item from his fingertips, throwing it into the brittle dust coated cane makeup basket sitting on a small table beside the mirror.
"No," he breathed, unzipping his jacket. Allowing the clothing to drop from his shoulders, it revealed his lean, sculptured body. The only fault; the bits of bone that stuck out from under his skin—over his shoulders, hips and wrists—he was underweight from her influence.
His russet skin seemed lighter in tone in the overly bright, blinding lights. "I broke up with Miranda. She's kicking me out." Dropping his jeans to the floor, it was evident he went around commando. Grabbing the only fireman's outfit left, he pulled the trousers on.
Paul's eyes widen in shock before the corners of his mouth turned up into a cocky grin. "About bloody time man!" He clasped Jake's shoulder. "Don't know how you stood the bitch." Getting a helmet and an axe from the cupboard, he placed the hat on and hung his wrists over the handle resting on his shoulders.
"Well done Jake," Embry smiled small.
"Thanks." Jacob forced a small smile cover his mouth. He really didn't feel like it was as good as the guys made it out to be. He knew he had to get away from her, but now, he felt low. Like there was no meaning in his life.
Letting the suspenders snap over his shoulders, the door flew open as Leah came striding through. Grabbing his helmet and hose on the reel, he ran after her.
"Leah, wait up, I need to talk to you." He was one of her few friends, one of the few she put up with hearing his problems and complaints, give him advice only to hear a few days later, he hadn't used it. Leah didn't put up with any crap and with how 'beautiful' she was. Every guy she had danced for knew better, especially those she stripped in front of. Her one rule: no touchy.
She was native, like Jake. Her hair was waist length, jet black and straight. Her skin a lighter shade of russet compared to Jacob's. Constantly, she held her firm filled mouth pursed over her narrow oval face. Her hair was usually tied up in a pony-tail, but not at work.
"What is it Jacob?" she sighed, snapping. Reaching over the girl's mirror for a paramedic's suit, she groaned. "Ugh, where's that bag?!"
"I was wondering … will you be my 'friend with benefits?'"
Her movements paused, sliding down from the tips of her toes to the balls of her feet, turning her head towards him. "What did you just say?"
"Will you be my friend with benefits? I found someone and I know you're supposed to have more than one."
"You also know that it's not supposed to be with co-workers. Jake," she paused, loudly exhaling; her head went from side to side. "Why don't you just say 'fuck buds?' I'm not going to be your rebound girl."
"Because that's what Miranda would say … I'm not like her," he whispered, unsure if she was within hearing distance. "I know. I don't expect you to." Easily, he reached over the mirror and pulled down the paramedic suit and bag.
"Thanks." Quickly, stripping down to her black bra and underwear, she pulled out a golden bra, slipping its straps over her shoulders. Jake clipped the back together as she changed her panties too. Pulling on the suit, the top was tied into a bow below her breasts, bringing them up, looking perky and sexy under the too small bra. She left the shirt unbuttoned in a V displaying her flesh.
Silently, Jake mentally groaned—he knew better than to let Leah hear his growing passion, unless he wanted a hit over the head or a knee to the balls. Like changing in front of a mirror hadn't been enough… Paul and Embry hooted from where they stood further down the room. She tempted at ignoring them.
"Fine, I'll do it. But remember I have a kid to care for Jake. I'm not going to be at your beg-and-call—I can't be—as it is I have Sam looking after Jesse, and I'm not going to be like Miranda. No bdsm. No s&m. It's straight vanilla." From the bag, she pulled a surgical mask and slipped it on over her mouth. Blue gloves covered her hands.
"Thanks."
"Whatever, we're on." The second she had finished speaking, her phone rang out its alarm—it was show time. In front of the boy's mirror, Jake grabbed his bag and took out the masquerade mask. Tying it on, he winced at the memory of why he had begun wearing the thing, stopping the flashback before it started.
He thought over how he had started as a waiter at the place when he was fourteen. From then on, she prepared him for work when he was older, dancing, using the pole and stripping off. Soon as he was eighteen, he began the real job. That was when the club really peaked in business.
"I don't know Jess, he seems … different." On her way inside, Bella passed a bulky bouncer filtered out the underages and trouble makers.
"That's what you said about Derek, now look what's going on. That guy is a creep and your own cop father can't do anything until he does something! Just be careful Bella, that's all I'm saying."
"I meant, innocent, different, Jess. But … he wasn't…"
Blinking, Jessica shifted her green-eye gaze to Bella's. "You didn't…?"
With her head down, dragging her teeth over her lower lip was the only hint Jess needed. "You did! Oh my god, my girl is growing up! You're first one night stand!" she gushed. "How was he? How big? Dish girl!"
"Jess, stop…" Her cheeks highlighted red against her pale skin. Bella's arms wrapped around her short and thin black sequined dress. Shuddering, she glanced back over her shoulder as a guy with many piercings passed by.
"Oh just tell me his size!"
"I don't know … nine … ten, I don't have a measuring tape on my arm like you."
Over the loud chattering of ladies and a few men, abruptly the sound of Rihanna's, Rude Boy bleared through the speakers. Blue lights glowed over the stage, reflecting in Jessica's red sequin dress. Imitation smoke clouded the deep blue stage floor lights. As the background shutters pulled back, a tall native woman with a paramedic's suit strutted out onto the extended stage, going straight to the pole, where she gripped up onto the pole. Men reached up and stuffed notes into her bra.
Suspiciously, Bella raised a brow at Jessica taking a chair beside her. "Why'd you bring me here?"
"To get your mind off your male problems," She used quotation marks around problems. "You're lucky you have male issues. I can't even get one!"
Captured by the woman's flexibility and steady grip upon the pole, Bella thought of how if she even tempted at gripping the pole she'd fall and break her neck. "So … you're trying to turn me lesbian instead?"
Jessica's eyes rolled. "They have unisex performances Bella—the best to last. You're so getting a lap dance from Masquerade!" she giggled, fanning herself with her matching red clutch.
"Don't you dare Jessica Stanley! Have one if you want one but count me out!"
"Oh loosen up Bella."
Only the men were hooting and hollering, until the real sexy came out on stage. The screams of excitement were deafening. Jessica and Bella's eyes almost popped at the sexy firemen on stage, one had an axe over his shoulders, the other in the centre of the three, a hose between his legs, along with an un-matching masquerade mask. The last on the end had an oxygen tank in hand.
He stepped forward, down to the end of the stage, where the dark haired woman twisted her leg around the pole. Coyly, his arm rested on her shoulders, pressing the back of his frame against the rod of steel. Moving from her position, Leah moved to his side and pressed her body against his own, rubbing against him, teasingly slow. Producing a mic from the front pocket of his trousers, a dark grin lifted the corners of Embry's mouth.
"Anyone need some oxygen?" He offered, lifting the tank. He glanced back to the one in the mask. "Or … how about a hose?"
The room had suddenly felt rather stuffy to Bella. Her face was hot, completely flushed as she stared at the one in the middle, holding the hose between his legs, the mask clinging to his face. He had to be masquerade.
That stomach… centred by the red suspenders over his shoulders, picking up the russet hue over the skin of his abs and pecks, so defined, curved! If only his trousers were a little lower, she thought, biting down on her index finger. He was flexing his hips over the hose at a painfully fast rate, but somehow, he seemed out of place, for the star.
From her seat, Jessica rose, waving her hand in the air, shouting out, "I'll take some air!" Blinking, astonished, Bella watched her friend run to the stage before he offered her his hand. All too willingly Jessica took the invite. He whispered into her ear before she loaded his pants with cash. Before long, Jessica replaced the paramedical woman's position against the pole. The next minute, she was hauled onto his shoulders being assaulted by his mouth, much to her pleasure, gripping and twisting her fingers his short black hair. Bella's eyes rolled, appalled to be Jess's friend within that moment. She didn't find that guy attractive.
Suddenly the paramedic was catching all the attention, standing behind the guy her hands were on his stomach, running up and down his almost-there abs and gripped his pecks.
"Think it's a little warm in here for this, don't you ladies?" The whole crowd screamed in encouragement, his hips swinging back and forth over the axe as his helmet went flying into the crowd, much to their disappointment. Someone set the black helmet on the stage where people were piling the money in.
"Not enough huh," She questioned the crowd. "How about this then?" Taking the axe, she flung the blade against the back of the suspenders. One side fell relieving the V of his hips. The screams heightened!
Cash was over mounting the helmet's brims as Paul dropped the other side, relieving a tiny black thong. Stepping proudly up to the side of the stage, Paul stuffed his thong and its strings full of cash. Placing the hat back on his head, getting down to his knees, he pumped his hips to the crowd, where the women were crowding in running their hands all over him.
Bella hadn't been quiet prepared for that, nor to see Jessica back so soon. Sitting down beside her, she exclaimed her friend. The strap of her skimpy dress was dropped to the side. Her normally neat, not-a-strand-out-of-place hair was a bushed, classic bedhead style, and there was a mark on the side of her neck.
"Have fun?" Bella muttered.
"Oh yeah," Jess laughed, producing a note of paper from inside her bra. Waving it in front of Bella, she grinned. "He really liked me."