Interpret (Play Boys 2) by Ana Raine
Blurb:
Pyotr is in his last year at the prestigious New York School of Dance.
He's lost his private sponsorship, so to pay his expenses, he works at Twirl, a
high-end gay strip club two nights a week, wearing a mask to conceal his
identity.
When Pyotr confessed his love to Jacob four years ago, Jacob mocked
Pyotr for his foolishness and rejected him. Heartbroken and bereft, Pyotr
swears he's learned his lesson. The only relationship he'll ever give his heart
to again is his dancing. But when Jacob steps out of the shadows at Twirl,
Pyotr realizes he is still just as in love with the pretty playboy as he was
when he was eighteen.
Pyotr knows he should run before he gets his heart broken a second
time, but he's drawn to Jacob and the possibility of having his greatest
desires fulfilled. Jacob is everything Pyotr wants in a master, but is his
recklessness too much -- or just enough?
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R Excerpt:
No way I wasn't getting great tips tonight.
The only way to get a private dance here was to pay upfront, and that
was a lot of money. Space was limited to promote the idea of exclusivity at the
club, and the bouncers at the front door screening the clients helped make
Twirl one of the safest strip clubs in New York.
My ears burned as I ripped my flimsy pants off, exposing my long legs,
muscular from years of professional dance training. I ran my fingers over the
bulge in my briefs, reveling in the hollers coming from the audience. Any night
I worked, I ended up entertaining privately. I could already imagine Ray's
elated expression when the bids started.
Dropping to my knees, I ran my fingers through my hair and cradled my
face as though he were touching me. I pouted my lips and looked up into the
lights in just the right way to make my bright blue eyes glitter like giant
Christmas decorations.
The screams from the crowd got louder as I made my way to the edge of
the dance floor. I noticed a crowd of eager men had gathered. Grinding against
the dark stage, I felt eager hands on my ankles, my calves and my lower back as
money was shoved into my briefs.
Even though the other dancers had dropped to the floor and were doing
the same, the number of hands on me didn't decrease. They weren't allowed to
touch my face or hair, so playfully I swatted the few hands that tried to break
the rules.
Ray's motto was that if you want it, go for it. But I knew the moment
I showed any distress, he would have Jared come over and pluck me from the
crowd.
Only once had a group of really drunk guys gotten too hands on. Jared
had literally lifted me from the dance platform and carried me to the back like
I weighed less than one of the cushioned stools at the bar.
The moment Matt jumped from the stage and started going through the
crowd, I knew it was time. Disentangling myself from the reaching hands, I slid
back to a safer part of the stage and followed Ray as he worked the crowd.
There were several takers, that much I could see, but distinguishing
between their faces and bodies was a whole other story. They all looked the
same.
I gathered the bills from my briefs and prepared to take it the back
before Ray escorted me to the private rooms. I lost track of my boss. As I was
looking for him through the throng, my gaze was drawn to a man seated at the
far back of the club. Unlike the rest of the crowd, he hadn't followed Matt and
the others onto the dance floor. I couldn't make out the man's facial features,
but the haughty way he stayed seated, like he was too good to get up, made my
face burn.
That would be just like Jacob.
But I took a breath and reminded myself for the millionth time in four
years it wasn't Jacob.
"Go get ready -- and don't forget to put your cash in the
safe," Ray told me as he touched my shoulder, startling me. "Then
head for room one."
I nodded so I wouldn't have to scream over the music, and headed for
the dressing rooms, pulling on my jeans before I headed for the private rooms.
I rolled my shoulders and stretched, just as I did before every performance.
"Hey, there," I said, announcing my presence. "You
requested me?"
With a plush loveseat, matching couch and coffee table, the room was
made to look comfortable. A half empty glass sat abandoned on the table, along
with a wallet, car keys, and a phone.
He was standing with his back to me, but I would have known who he was
had I been blindfolded. He had grown in the last four years, and now towered
over me by a good foot. His dark hair was perfectly in place, making him look
just like the rich playboy I knew he was. No doubt a Bentley or Porsche waited
outside for him.
I had the urge to rip his clothes off so I could stare at his marvelous
tanned skin. Had his body changed much? From what I could see, he had
maintained the athletic build he'd acquired playing Rugby.
My knees felt weak as I envisioned what it would feel like to run my
tongue over his taut stomach and further down to his cock. Clearing my throat,
I tried to regain my composure and managed to whisper. "Jacob? So you
really are here."
He turned to look at me. His startling dark eyes caught me off guard
and his chiseled face didn't help. If I hadn't been wearing pants, my erection
would've have been as plain as day.
"You recognized me then, Pyotr?" he said in the velvet voice
I remembered too well.
"Of course." How could I forget? Jacob was only the star of
my every wet dream. He was the one who consumed my thoughts and kept me awake
at night.
He was also the reason I'd sworn to never
fall in love again.
