Seeking Nirvana (4 page)

“That it does, M
rs. Steinbeck, and thank you for your kindness,” Liam retorted, while steering me up the steps, and away from the nosey neighbor.

“If there is anything at all we can do for you both, you know where I am. My door is always open.”

Liam tersely gushed, “Thank you, Mrs. Steinbeck,” before shutting the front door behind us. “God, that woman never shuts up.”

I stood in the hallway,
flanked by two entrance ways, one to my left, one to my right. Motionless, I peeked up the dark wooden staircase directly before me with a wooden balustrade, the top steps curving around the left corner.

Liam’s breath
tickled the nape of my neck, and the warmth of his body through his shirt, pasted onto my back. “Do you want the grand tour?” he asked in a husky tone. I swore I could feel the vibrations traveling from his throat to meet me.

He was already rounding my
stagnant body as I turned to face him. Standing on the threshold of the right entrance, he offered an encouraging smile, and I took hold of his hand as he offered to me.

“It’s a simple layout.
You follow the rooms around, and you end up at the left entrance in the hallway. This is the living room obviously.”

The room
bolstered a Grecian theme, with white and cream tones, white and gold veined marble, glass and chandeliers. An overstuffed white and gold-trimmed couch rested in the bay of the window to my left, a pillar-style lamp perched on a small table behind the left arm, and a hefty white marble coffee table with magnificent carved legs and a glass surface sat in the center of two overstuffed sofas. A fifty inch flat screen hung above the large, carved fireplace in the heart of the wall directly ahead.

“It’s very…white,” I breathed as I completed my perusal and followed Liam through the end archway to the dining area.

“Get used to it, it’s like this throughout. Don’t blame me, you’re the one who decorated, Kady, baby,” he chuckled.

The dining area and kitchen was integrated, and it was huge.
Passing the lengthy glass surfaced dining-table that sits six, a crystal chandelier hanging perfectly in the center, I stepped into the kitchen.

“This is your
room of preference,” he smiled, arms outspread as he performed a little twirl behind the white and oak-topped kitchen island.

I began my subtle perusal.
“Room of preference?” I grimaced, my eyes falling back on Liam who stood behind the island, his hands set on the wooden top. “What do you mean?”

The
island was the focal point of the room, a state of the art range along the back wall. Cooking equipment hung from hooks while gadgets were placed in its own designated area. It was both magnificent, and very intimidating. I was hesitant to move or touch anything, in fear I would move it out of place and never remember where it belonged. The amount of counters, worktops, units and cupboards were already confusing the Hell out of me. I knew it was going to take me a decade to find my way around.

He freed the surface of his hands and raised them in the air with
flair. “Your improvisations, your creations, they all happen here.” He dropped back onto the island, his shoulders practically touching his ears as he bore his weight through his arms. “You spend hours every now and then in here. I don’t know how you can stand the heat at times.”

Liam was
right; the entire house was identical to the living room with whites, gold, marbles and glass, apart from his home office, which was dark wood and burnish red. Bookcases upon bookcases spanned along the left wall, while a bay window was situated behind the desk.

I headed straight to the master suite after my grand tour. Liam pushed several times on the word
home
, but it wasn’t my home. And it wouldn’t be my home until something sparked. For now, it was a house.

Time didn’t exist as I
parked myself in the middle of the largest, most stupendous bed I had even seen. Ivory satin covers and a golden throw decorated the pillar-styled four-poster bed. It didn’t have a canopy, which to me, made it even more striking.

I sighed as I
stared at a photograph on my bedside, one I had no recollection of ever being taken. Liam and I were on a beach, he was wearing only a pair of knee-length shorts, displaying a Chinese tattoo on his left pectoral, an eagle on his left forearm, and a spider’s web on his neck. I was in shorts with an oversized black sweater draping over my shoulder, my blond hair whipping around my face. He was carrying me on his back and we were smiling like lunatics. I wondered what beach we were at; I wondered who took the photo.

The doorbell rang loud and clear,
causing my heart to lurch into my throat, and drew a close to my musings. Uncrossing my legs, I shimmed off the queen-sized bed, trudged down the cream and gold hallway with mirrors and pictures adorning the walls, and down the stairs.

Liam was already at th
e door, embracing the woman and mumbling something in her hair.

Although her arm remained on his forearm, t
he brunette pulled away from my boyfriend. With golden eyes, she observed me as I descended the finally two hardwood steps. “Oh, my God, there’s my, Kady. How are you feeling, chick?”

I smiled at the endearment.

Chick.

********

The music from outside pierced through the backstage door as I was adding my last coat of mascara. Checking out my reflection in the mirror surrounded by golden lit bulbs, I battered my eyelashes and smacked my red coated lips together.

“Oh, my God,” Through the corner of my eye, I spotted a
brunette sporting nothing but a gold shimmering thong and matching heels, flouncing through the door. “I have no idea who that guy is, but you need to check him the fuck out when you go on, chick.” She stopped behind me and helped me adjust my midnight-black glossy wig.

“You couldn’t sound any more excited if you tried, Liv,” I giggled. “What side?”

“Left, and trust me––” reflections still remaining eye contact, she bent down over the arch of my neck, totally uncaring that her tits were pressed against my shoulder. “He doesn’t look cheap. I think I might do a little digging for his number when I’ve finished.”

I sniggered and shook my head. Liv wa
s an amazing friend, she was so spirited, so brazen. She had everything that guys wanted: the tits, the figure, and the confidence. Liv could have anyone at her feet, both men and women alike.

“Raven,” Benny summoned me, the backstage door held open as he rested his back against it.
“You’re on, move that ass girl.”

I pushed myself from the stool, while
adjusting my tits in my red sequined bra to maximize my cleavage. “Sure thing, Benny,” I purred, strolling my ass past my boss in nothing but a thong, bra and transparent stripper shoes.

I waited behind the curtain for my set to begin. All my regulars knew when I was up, not solely by the fact that Liv was
always on before me, but because the music for my sets were basically the same: a sensual, chill-out, ambient style tune.

The soft
Japanese female voice of the group, Cibo Matto sounded over the system. I took a deep breath, holding the air prisoner in my lungs as I psyched myself up before stepping through the Red Velvet curtains. I stepped onto the stage as the first beat resonated, and was instantly bathed in crimson light.

A sensual glow from the bulbs
decorated and framed the walkway. I blanked everything out, allowing the music to wash over me, to consume me as I prowled seductively down the platform. Like every other night, I became one with the beat as I swayed my hips, caressed my near naked body with sensual strokes, and met the pole at the end of the way. Performing my usual one circuit warm up, I wrapped my hand around the steel before slowly grinding my pelvis, rolling my stomach and with the cold metal between my thighs I sunk to the bottom of its length.

I
hadn’t even glanced at the man Liv was gushing about backstage, yet I felt his eyes on me, boring a hole into me as I slithered my way back up the bar and into position, tossing my fake tresses back with a flip of my head. I circled my hips again, rolled my tautened stomach, cupped my breasts and bit my lip coyly when my hands slid down the golden flesh of my stomach, and wantonly concealed my pussy, before pressing my back against my pole and dropped down into a crouch.

Usually, I would have stayed zoned out, never really taking any notice of the people watching me, but that man who
was sitting along the left of the walkway had my full attention. I wasn’t dancing for the other twenty-odd men in front of me, I was dancing for him, and he made it very fucking clear that he was enjoying what he was seeing, and that alone spurred me.

He
was sitting back in his seat, loosening his tie and releasing the collar button of his shirt. The fingers of his left hand grazed over his lips, and his eyes didn’t stray from my body, my movements. I gazed at him as I raised my leg, wrapped it around the dowel and spun it again. I saw him fight a swallow and his lips parted as he gasped.

Sinking to my
knees, I crept my way further down the stage, my spine dipping with every movement forward, flaunting the arch of my back. I stopped in front of him; his right leg was outstretched as he dropped further into the seat. I held his gaze––even in the crimson light, I could see he had amazing eyes, and a magnificent jawline. He carried himself well. That was obvious.

My lower lip was swept by
my tongue as I lifted my shoulder coquettishly. The man inched closer and slipped a bill into the strap of my thong, before flashing me a sexy smirk that had my nipples instantly pressed against the cups of my bra. He winked before pressing himself back into the chair, and for the first time in a year of taking this stage, this pole, I finished my set with a smile, and felt sexier than ever.

Liv was straight on me a
s soon as I walked through the door backstage. “Did you see him, chick? Did you see him? Fuck me what I would give to grind my hips above him.”

I shook my head and flashed a shrewd smile. “Yes, I did. He was alright, I suppose.”

“Suppose? Suppose? Kady, we got to get you back in the saddle. But hands off that one, I saw him first,” she pointed a finger at me and puckered her lips. Her almond golden eyes glimmered with wry hilarity as she staked her claim.

I held my hand
s up, palms forward. “You have no worries on that one, Liv.”

That’s when Benny walked in, totally uncaring that two other members of his girls were semi-nude. “Raven, I have someone I wa
nt you to meet. Ass. Bar. Now.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

Flaunting my sequined red two-piece that barely covered my secrets; I strutted through the darkness in my six-inch heels to the bar along the left of the club. The guy was sitting on one of the stools with a shot in his hand. His hair slicked back and his tie loose. He was talking to Benny.

“Here she is…” Benny gushed, stretching his arm out to wind around my waist. “Raven, I’d like you to meet Liam. Liam, meet my favorite girl, Raven.”

“Hi,” I held out my hand politely. He took hold of it immediately.

“I must say, I have never been that enthralled in my life. You know how to move, Raven. And your choice of music is phenomenal.
Very sensual.”

For some unknown reason, I felt
horribly shy in front of this man. I had just danced for him, he watched as I stroked my body and teased myself as I grinded up against that cold metal, wishing that it was something else I was grinding against. I was thankful for the crimson lights, had it been any other color, I wouldn’t have concealed my blush. I smiled and simply said, “Thank you.”

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was deep, rough and so thick that I felt his words paste onto my flesh
. It made me tingle.

“I don’t drink when I’m working.”

I hoped that my answer would’ve had him backing off, considering Liv was interested in him. But it had the opposite effect, and when he asked if there was anywhere private we could go, I had hoped that when I told him that the Velvet Suite is two-hundred dollars for ten minutes, he would have said, fuck that.

Instead, he shunted himself
from the stool, his body towered over me and his scent––wow, his scent was amazing. He smelled like a man’s man, and the smell of scotch traveled on his breath as he rasped, “I know you’ll make it worth my while.”

Heaving
a breath, I plastered a shy smile on my face, then took his hand and led him to the room, but not before Liv flashed me a pained, wounded look and shook her head with an upturn of her lip. And that expression from my best friend had killed me.

Four nights a week I worked Red Velvet. And every night I worked, for two weeks, Liam was there. His eyes so intense
that I felt the heat of his stare as I descended the platform when I began my set, the way he slouched in the seat up front, his left elbow perched on the table while smoothing over his mouth as he observed every motion I made, how I manipulated my body to the sensual beat of my music.

He stuffed nothing less than fifty dollar bills in my panties and each night was another two-hundred for a private ten minutes in the Velvet Suite. He was insistent, he was haughty, he was so fucking self-assured that even being in his company, made me feel all those things, too.