Chapter IV
Striptease
The strobe lights flashed to the rhythm of a frantically beating heart. The bar smelled of smoke and sex. It was intoxicating and sleazy. There was only one customer in the large room and their eyes were riveted to the stage. On the stage, twisting and undulating to the heavy techno beat was a single dancer. She performed flawlessly, flaunting her perfect body for her single, devoted observer. The dancer shed her starched white men's business shirt. She moved to the brass pole in the middle of the stage and did a quick twirl, and then the short gray skirt was shed, leaving her in a skimpy G-string and an equally small bra. A barley banked fire burned in the dancer's laser blue eyes and she began to move down the stage again. This time, though she didn't stop at the edge. She put one high heel clad foot on an empty chair and left the safety of the elevated stage. She moved through the hazy room. Her eyes locked with the lust darkened eyes of her audience of one. She moved closer to the observer with the grace and intensity of a wild jungle cat.
The dancer reached her observer and a predatory smile went across her face. She picked up the neglected glass from the table and tossed back the clear liquid, tequila. She licked her lips, catching any spare drop of alcohol. The enthralled watcher reached out a hand, but the dancer batted it away. "You can't touch the dancer..." She suddenly moved, placing herself astride the observers long legs. She settled herself in the willing lap and ran her slender hands through dark silk hair. Intense brown eyes met clear blue. The two women, dancer and observer were caught in a highly sensual moment. Then the dancer started to move again, using her powerful thighs to move her all over the other woman's body. Her hands scrapped down the woman's shirt. The observer's hands gripped her seat, her knuckles white, her eyes pleaded with her torturer. "Cat." The blonde smiled and bent down and their faces were inches apart. "Patience is a virtue." Then the dancers hands darted behind her own back and released the dainty catch on her bra and the brunette's eyes widened and her breathe caught. She wanted to touch. The dancer smiled and peeled the silk off, leaving herself clad in a barely there scrap of lace and too high heels. The the dancer chuckled, "Sara." The brunette's control broke and her hands darted up and grabbed the dancer's firm behind and pulled her close, eliminating all the useless space between them. Their lips met in a fiery embrace and one of them groaned.
Warrick Brown didn't open his eyes, he didn't even dare move. He didn't want to lose the dream in the haze of waking up. For once, he was glad his wife wasn't in bed beside him...because he really didn't want to explain why he'd dreamed about one of his beautiful female coworkers stripping for another equally beautiful female coworker. He wasn't sure he'd be able to look either Sara or Catherine in the eye when he saw them next.
