CHAPTER 3
“Told you so.” Gabe was a bit breathless as he downed half a glass of chilled beer. His whole body was on fire, the core of the heat in his crotch.
“What?” Cole looked a little shaken, his hand not quite steady as he raised his glass to his lips, while a subjectively tantalizing trickle of sweat snaked its way down his left temple.
“I said you probably had moves you weren’t aware of.” He grinned. “I was right.” He released a heavy breath and wiped his own flushed, sweaty face. “Boy, was I right.”
Cole took another drink and then twisted his glass on the bar. “I’m pretty sure most of that was you,” he mumbled.
Like fuck it was, Gabe thought as a sudden, jarring pulse ran through his cock. “Oh, no,” he chuckled. “Trust me, you were doing your part.” He exhaled and cleared his throat. “And doing it damn well.”
Cole wasn’t convinced. “I was just following your lead.”
Gabe looked at him. “You should come to work here.”
“What?” Cole blinked. “Here… at the club?”
“Yeah.” Gabe grinned. “You’d be an instant sensation. Handsome, with a rockin’ hot body that…” He blew out a breath. “… that knows how to move.”
Twisting his head, Cole glanced toward the stage.
Jin had finished his performance, and now Trey—a young, blond southern boy from the Bible Belt—set the stage ablaze with a sprinkling of hellfire.
Cole watched him for a few moments as the young man seemed to put every sexy muscle in his body to use, then looked at Gabe and laughed nervously, “No way I could do that.”
“That’s what you said about dirty dancing on the floor, and… well…” Gabe shrugged, smiling.
“That’s a lot different than dancing on stage.”
“Not really.” Gabe finished his beer and rested his elbow on the bar, his chin in his hand as he gazed at Cole. “It’s kind of the same thing, with less clothes and you’re making money.” He raised an eyebrow. “How much are you making at your current job?”
Cole shifted. “Nothing. I don’t have a job. I just…” He shrugged. “I just got to town about a week ago. Right now, I’m living on savings.”
“So, you’ll need a job soon?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well, then?” Gabe stretched out his arm and grinned.
Cole chuckled quietly. “No, I don’t think so. I would never feel comfortable on stage.”
Gabe hardly believed it. Cole moved with an innate grace, a kind of sensuality that can't be taught. The way he effortlessly and quickly tuned into Gabe’s body showed clear signs that he was born to dance. Now, all that remained was convincing Cole.
Was Gabe serious? Become a stripper? Over the past few years, Cole had thought about what he might want to do for a living, but “stripper” had never made the list. It hadn’t even been in the running.
He looked again at the stage, his eyes following the young blond dancer as he executed moves that made Cole’s cheeks flush. Gabe said it wasn’t much different from what they had done on the dance floor, but Cole didn’t remember doing those things.
Still, he couldn’t deny the thrill in his gut when he thought about being on stage with Gabe. His body continued to burn from their time on the floor. Gabe wasn’t wrong; Cole had matched his rhythm almost effortlessly. He had never felt freer in his life.
“At least, think about it?” Gabe implored with those baby blues. It wasn’t easy to resist.
“I, uh…” Cole swallowed. “I really don’t think I could do it.”
Gabe leaned in, tilting his head. For a stunned moment, Cole thought he was going for a kiss. But he stopped well before invading Cole’s space. “We could practice, on stage, without an audience. Let you get a feel for it.” The corner of his mouth curled up flirtatiously. “If you’d like.”
The only thing Cole noticed at that moment was the alluring curve of the man’s mouth—and the fact that he hadn’t pulled away when he thought Gabe might kiss him.
Did he want this to be the end? One hot dance, then maybe never see the man again?
What does it matter? He’s a stripper. It’s not like anything will come of this.
True—but Cole couldn’t get the dance out of his head. He still felt it in his body, felt how perfectly their bodies aligned, and how good Gabe felt rubbing up against him.
Cole took a quick drink of beer, almost gulping it down. Gabe watched him, that half smile on his handsome face, those captivating blue eyes refusing to look away. “Maybe,” he heard himself say, with a slight rasp in his voice. “I don’t know.”
Gabe brushed the back of his fingers along Cole’s arm. “I’ll take maybe.” His hand slowly turned over, and he caressed Cole’s warm skin with his fingertips. “What’re you doing for the rest of the night?”
The invitation shot straight to Cole’s groin. His crotch swelled and suddenly throbbed. Was he ready for what he was nearly certain Gabe was offering?
“I…” He shifted on the stool as things down below became uncomfortably hard. “I don’t know.”
“You said you were new to the city,” Gabe murmured, stroking his forearm. “I could take you out on the town, show you around.”
Cole wondered why this stripper was so interested in him. He looked at the man uncertainly. “You’re not… an escort, too… right? ‘Cause I can’t afford…”
Gabe stared at him, blinked, then barked out a laugh. He grabbed Cole’s shoulder and shook his head. “No,” he said between choking laughs. “No, I wasn’t offering escort services.”
“I’m sorry,” Cole said sheepishly, suddenly feeling foolish. “I don’t know where that came from.”
“No, no,” Gabe grinned. “I’m totally flattered you thought I could be a paid escort.”
“Well… I mean… people pay you to dance for them…” It didn’t seem so far-fetched to Cole.
Gabe rested his chin on Cole’s shoulder, his breath warm on Cole’s ear as he murmured, “You think I’m hot enough that men would pay me for sex?”
Cole shivered. “I, um…” he cleared his throat. “I mean…” He turned his head and met Gabe’s curious gaze. “Yeah.”
Gabe sighed. “That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”
Unsure if he was serious or joking, Cole just stared at him. “It… is?”
Gabe pulled back, a little smile on his face. “In my line of work, that’s a compliment, baby.”
“Okay.” Cole still didn’t know if he was joking.
“So?” Gabe traced his fingers down Cole’s back, sending a flurry of shivers up his spine.
“So… what?” Cole’s breath hitched audibly.
“Night out on the town?”
Every part of Cole wanted to jump at the chance to spend more time with the hot stripper—one part did jump—but he didn’t take the leap. “Maybe another night,” he mumbled and finished his beer. “I should probably head home.”
“You haven’t been here that long,” Gabe said. He squinted teasingly. “Got a boyfriend waiting for you?”
Cole smiled. “No. No boyfriend.”
“So why the rush to leave?” Gabe’s tone grew sultry as he traced a circle on the small of Cole’s back, causing that one part of him to jump again. “I thought we were having a good time.” His smile widened. “I thought you liked me.”
“I do,” Cole whispered, looking away. “I just…” He swallowed. “I don’t think I’m ready to…” He looked at Gabe, falling into his baby blues. “… go out on the town.”
Go out on the town. That isn’t what he meant.
Gabe knew what he “wasn’t ready for.” So, why are you pushing it?
He didn’t know. He wasn’t this persistent with the club customers—so why this guy?
What did it matter if he walked out and never came back?
He was just another hot man among many. One thing the Phoenix had no shortage of was hot men.
This one wasn’t any more special than the rest.
Even as the thought went through his head, Gabe’s mind dismissed it. This man was different; he had sensed it the moment he saw him. And when they danced… fuck. He’d never felt so “in tune” with another man—not even Logan, who was a master of the craft.
You can’t let him just walk away.
The “desperation” was unlike Gabe—men came and went at the Phoenix every day. He never once worried about whether any of them would return. Never really cared. There was always another man to replace the last one.
No one can replace this man.
Did he honestly believe that? Cole was a complete stranger. What gave him the idea that he was irreplaceable?
The dance. That’s when he knew.
“Can I at least give you my number?” Gabe asked, trying to sound casual rather than desperate. “When, or if, you decide you want that tour of the city, just give me a call.”
Cole nodded without much hesitation—a good sign, right? He took out his phone, opened the contacts, and handed it to Gabe, who entered his number, email, and physical address. Gabe returned the phone to Cole.
“I don’t sleep much,” Gabe said. “So, if you wake up in the middle of the night and feel like chatting, call me or shoot me a text. The only time I might not answer is if I’m here at work, on the clock.
But just leave a message, and I’ll get back to you ASAP.
” He smiled. Yeah, he was aware he sounded a little too eager, but he didn’t care—some guys were flattered by the eagerness.
Still, Gabe resisted the urge to walk Cole out of the club when the man got up to leave. He wished Cole had given him his number, too. But maybe it was just as well he hadn’t—Gabe didn’t think he could stop himself from phone-stalking the man if he had a direct line to him.
Gabe left the club shortly after Cole and headed straight home. He’d barely entered his apartment when his phone buzzed with a text message. After closing and locking the door, he went into the kitchen and took out his phone.
The text came from an unknown number.
Gabe smiled, hope fluttering in his heart as he opened the message.
‘I’m thinking about it. Have a good night.’
Gabe grinned. He’d already been having the best night, and this just made it even better.
Cole sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his phone. He didn’t expect Gabe to message back and wondered why he had felt compelled to send the text.
I’m thinking about it.
Had he meant the job suggestion—or other things?
The dance? He couldn’t get it out of his head.
Cole hadn’t wanted to leave—he really wanted to go out on the town with Gabe.
But he knew where that would lead, and he needed to take a breath, let his body cool down, and think with the right head for a minute about whether that was a place he wanted to go—with Gabe or anyone.
Cole undressed down to his briefs and lay on top of the blankets, gazing at the ceiling.
The only light was a dim bedside lamp, casting a soft glow through the small bedroom.
Cole turned his head and looked at the bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand.
He always kept them close at night. Often, he took them preemptively to stave off the nightmares always looming right there when he closed his eyes.
They weren’t as bad as when he’d first run away, but still bad enough.
He hesitated when he reached for them now. Maybe he didn’t need them tonight. He’d never had anything else to think about, to dream about.
Breathing deeply, Cole relaxed on the bed, closed his eyes… and let thoughts of the beautiful stripper consume him as he replayed the dance in his mind.
He drifted into a restful sleep, where the memory of his evening at The Phoenix became his dream; pleasant, sensual… and free from nightmares.