Interpret (Play Boys 2) by Ana Raine
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?
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.