Show Off, page 1
Show Off
Also by Renee Dahlia
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His Lord's Soldier
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Rekindled
His Buxom Beauty
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Her Pregnant Rival
Seraph's Burlesque Club
Show Up
Show Off (Coming Soon)
Show Queen (Coming Soon)
Standalone
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Watch for more at Renee Dahlia’s site.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Also By Renee Dahlia
Show Off (Seraph's Burlesque Club, #2)
About the author
Foreword
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Author Notes
All Books by Renée Dahlia
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Also By Renee Dahlia
Show Off
Renée Dahlia
From casual hook up ... to something more?
Burlesque dancer Charlie Kent should be happy performing and hooking up with sexy people now the pandemic is over, just like before. Instead it feels empty. The audience is always missing Elle, her friend-with-benefits. They were just casual, but Charlie now realises she wants more. Much more. When Elle arrives at the Seraph’s Burlesque Club for business only, Charlie is not going to let this second chance go to waste.
Elle’s interior design business has boomed since the pandemic with so much work she’s barely thought of the sexy-as-sin burlesque dancer who she used to hook up with... Except when she’s lonely all night. But she can’t be just friends anymore, so she stays away. When she is commissioned to refit Seraph's Burlesque Club, Elle bumps into Charlie, and all her best intentions go out of the perfectly dressed window.
Elle must keep her professional reputation intact, and can’t allow her attraction to Charlie to derail her work and her need for love. . . Unless she can have it all?
- friends with benefits to lovers
- second chances
About the author
Renée Dahlia is an unabashed romance reader who loves feisty women and strong, clever men. Her books reflect this, with a side note of awkward humour. Renée has a science degree in physics. When not distracted by the characters fighting for attention in her brain, she works in the horse-racing industry doing data analysis and writing magazine articles. When she isn’t reading or writing, Renée spends her time with her partner and four children, usually watching them play cricket.
To everyone who got vaccinated for COVID as soon as they were eligible.
Foreword
Welcome to SHOW OFF, the second book in the Seraph’s Burlesque Club series.
This series consists of three lesbian romances is set in a burlesque club in London. If you love to read about a found family with queer people who thrive, this series has that and more. This book is friends (with benefits) to lovers with a high heat level.
Please note that this book is set in a post-COVID London where people are (mostly) vaccinated. There will be some references to the pandemic. There are also references to a character having long covid, parental fat shaming of a main character, parental manipulation, and a broken arm.
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Social Media Links
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I hope you enjoy reading this book!
Renée
Prologue
March 2019
The burlesque dancer plucked Elle’s glass of champagne from her hand and twirled away from her. Her tightly laced corset emphasised her slender waist and her breasts spilled enticingly over the top. From an aesthetic point of view, Elle was intrigued when she really didn’t want to be. What exactly was feminist about dancing semi-naked for an audience? Elle rolled her eyes at the display, still unsure why her soon-to-be sister-in-law Willow had allowed her bridesmaids to bring them all to Seraph’s Burlesque Club for her hens’ party. And now her drink—the only thing keeping her from boredom—had been stolen by a glorious tall white woman stripping out of a Belle Epoque gown. The gown fell from her hips finishing just above the dancer’s narrow ankles and bare feet. Okay, perhaps she wasn’t precisely bored watching this dancer flirt with the audience. She was beautiful, in a disconnected aesthetic way, and so confident as she fluttered her feathers and shook her tits.
Elle glanced around the room again. The room had a theatrical quality with dim lights over the audience, and tables squeezed together. People leaned on the bar, men with shirt sleeves rolled up, and women in nice dresses, as the dancer moved under shining spotlights on the stage. Red curtains hung on either side of the stage, with gold tassels occasionally catching a glint of light. The stage was largely unadorned apart from the dancer who twirled and shimmied to music being played by a small jazz band at the side of the stage. Elle’s glass of champagne had been placed on a chair in the centre of the stage; the whole set up really needed something more. Nothing that would detract from the dancer, but a little more care in the set design would make the experience better, more lush, for the audience. She couldn’t help but use her design training to assess a room, and the stage here was no different.
Aside from Willow and her squealing friends, most of the audience were straight-passing couples. She scoffed at herself and her judgemental nonsense. She’d been part of a relationship like that and had hated the erasure from everyone who assumed she was straight just because she’d happened to have been fucking a man at the time. But damn, some of these men were salivating too openly at the dancer, while their wives looked as bored as she felt. She ought to wave at the waiter to get another drink. Bloody cheeky of the dancer to nick her champagne like that.
The dancer crouched on stage, right in front of Elle, and once again she cursed Willow under her breath for paying for a table next to the stage. The stage was level with her table, lower than Elle had expected when she’d first walked into the room. It brought an intimacy to the room that Elle appreciated even if she wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the spotlight like this. Everyone must be staring at them now and she ignored the urge to wipe her face in case she had a crumb on her chin from the cheese platter they were sharing.
The dancer slowly dragged her gown up her leg, exposing lightly tanned silky bare flesh. Elle swallowed. That was an effective way to get rid of boredom. Elle gaped at the dancer, and the rest of the audience faded away. She was unable to look away, desperate for the glimpse into the shadows of the dancer’s thighs. Salty sweat and the tiniest hint of a rose-based perfume filled her nostrils. Rose was one of her favourite scents; she didn’t wear it herself as it made her feel like a grandmother, but she adored the heady fragrance of walking through a rose garden in summer.
Somehow, the dancer balanced on one leg and lifted her exposed leg, so her big toe rested on Elle’s lip. A sensual shock jolted into her lungs, searing her breath. And when the dancer poured Elle’s champagne down her leg so it dribbled into Elle’s mouth, it was the hottest thing she’d ever experienced.
Elle’s tongue chased the drops of liquid as it ran down the dancer’s toe and onto her lips. She was so wet—instantly hot and ready—she was sure she was leaving a puddle on the chair. The dancer winked at her, then removed her leg, and spun away. For the rest of the performance, Elle couldn’t move. She just sat there, her pulse racing, and her finger resting on her bottom lip. Now she understood why people came to watch burlesque.
She tracked the dancer across the stage, with every movement branded on her memory. When the dancer undid her skirt and it fell to the stage, Elle was once again reminded of roses, and when the dancer removed her corset to reveal perky tits with red tassels over her nipples, Elle was pretty sure she had stopped breathing completely. A little shake from the dancer sent a shiver down her spine. Her mouth dried and she almost licked her lips.
“Having fun?” Willow nudged her. “Isn’t this so cool? Those ladies are so brave, getting up there. You’d never see me doing that.”
“Um, yeah.” Elle couldn’t form words. She wiped her palms on her skirt, uncaring if the sheen of sweat would leave a mark on the fine fabric.
“I’m so glad you came along. I really want to be friends with you.” Willow’s drunken happiness came right as the dancer bent over and shook her almost naked bottom at Elle.
“Yeah.”
Willow’s squeal and rapidly spoken something didn’t compute and Elle tried to nod politely at her. She couldn’t look away from the dancer who grabbed the microphone.
“Thank you everyone. We are going to have a little break, so grab another drink, and then you’ll get to meet our famous showgirl Violet Alegría, as well as our crowd favourite Rad Bad Fandango, and we have a new act for you that I think you’ll all adore.” The dancer bowed to the crowd’s applause, then knelt down right in front of Elle, with her knees slightly apart, so Elle’s gaze was level with her sequined g-string. Just when Elle thought she might die from wanting—yes, it was that dramatic—the dancer leaned forward and handed her an empty champagne glass.
“Meet me after the show at the bar and I’ll get you a new one.” The dancer projected her voice in a stage whisper and the crowd cheered.
“Do it, love.” Some bloke’s cheer made her grit her teeth. Elle really didn’t want to be part of the show, but she also wanted to have a drink with the dancer, so she forced herself to nod and take the glass. Their fingers grazed each other, and a spiral of heat rushed across her skin. Hell.
The dancer stood up. “Thank you everyone. I’m The Gloved Gatsby.” She bowed and walked off the stage.
Elle made it through the rest of the performance with a new appreciation for the show. Maybe it was feminist to own the stage like that and be in control of what people saw. Throughout the evening, Willow got drunker and sillier. Far out, what was Hugh thinking in marrying her? She was lovely, and of course, smoking hot, which had to be the attraction because he wasn’t marrying her for her rational approach to life or her intelligence.
Elle sighed. When had she become so fucking judgemental? It’d been a disappointing year, and the year was only a few months old. Her boyfriend had dumped her the day before Christmas last year—in hindsight, she’d dodged a bullet there—and her job sucked. The daily drudgery meant she continually forgot that she had a plan. In another year, she would’ve saved up enough to launch her dream business. Yes, 2020 would be her year. She just needed to get through this year. Sticking it out in a boring job would be worth it in the end.
Maybe all she needed was some really good sex to restart some positivity in her life. She’d bang that dancer, that was for sure. As soon as the thought filled her head, Elle wanted to thump her forehead on the edge of the stage. It was one thing to crave the dancer’s touch, and quite another to be so brutal in her wanting. But she could imagine the dancer bent slightly over the piano, with her long legs spread. Her fingers trembled as she thought about stroking them down the dancer’s spine, leaving a red line in her skin with her fingernails, and listening to the dancer groan at her touch. If she wasn’t surrounded by Willow’s drunk friends, she’d touch herself. Press her clit hard, as she slapped the dancer’s bare arse. She could visualise the way her body would jerk forward from the slap, and the red palm mark on her arse. Elle wanted to kiss it better, then get on her knees behind the dancer and lick and suck at her until she screamed with pleasure.
“Elle. Are you alright?” Willow slung her arm around her.
“Ahh, yeah.” She blinked, dragging herself out of her fantasy.
“We are going to grab a ride share car and head home now. The girls want to see my new place and Hugh told me not to stay out too late because we have plans tomorrow,” Willow said.
“Okay. I might head home too.” Elle hadn’t forgotten about the plan to have lunch with her family and Willow’s family. She didn’t dread it; not really. Her family were big on appearances and while they’d been pleasantly cautious around her since she’d broken up with Campbell, she wasn’t keen to be the single one at lunch with two families who were high on wedding nonsense. She stood up and gave Willow a quick hug. “See you tomorrow.”
“This was so much fun.” That high note entered Willow’s voice again.
Elle smiled. “It was. I enjoyed it more than I thought I would.” And if she had a drink, as promised, with the dancer afterwards, it might lead to more. Well, a girl could dream, anyway. She waited until Willow peeled herself out of their hug, then waved to all her friends as they picked up their purses and wandered out to the front. She sat alone for a few minutes. Normally, she’d pull out her phone and scroll her various social media apps, but she wasn’t ready to escape from the cloud of lust around her just yet. Her imagination was more entertaining than anything the internet had to offer.
“Here is the replacement drink I promised.” A flute of champagne appeared before her, and Elle turned her head towards the dancer’s voice.
“Thanks. That was some trick.” Oh God, she sounded so silly, or judgemental again. Didn’t trick mean something else? Crap. That comment was certainly going on replay at three in the morning.
“Which one?”
Elle’s throat was dry and she sipped the champagne. “Um, with the champagne down your leg.”
The dancer grinned. “Awesome. I might have to keep it in my routine now that it’s worked once.”
“I was your first?” Elle wanted to slap her own forehead. How naïve did she sound?
The dancer laughed. “Yeah. Obviously I’ve practiced it a lot, but that was the first time I used it during a show.”
A rush of heat flushed across her cheeks, and Elle wanted to shake her head to get rid of the heady sensation. She couldn’t possibly be jealous of whoever had been the recipient of all those times the dancer had practiced it. Elle sipped her champagne again, except the dry tart notes of the champagne reminded her of the rush in her veins when the dancer had tipped champagne down her leg into Elle’s mouth.
“My name is Charlie.” The dancer held out her hand, and Elle shook it.
“Elle.” Her skin burst into life at Charlie’s touch. “I hate to ask this, but why me?” As soon as she asked the question, she wished she hadn’t as Charlie gave her such a pointed look that she wanted to hide under the table.
“You looked so lonely in a group of happy people.”
“Ouch.” Although it was true; she didn’t really belong with Willow’s friends and had only gone because Hugh wanted them to be friends. Her own friends were more likely to go to a book club than giggle drunkenly at some dancers. Maybe she needed different friends? No. She liked talking about books, and she’d recently joined a class learning furniture restoration. It was run by an amazing trans woman, Sam, who was so welcoming with everyone. Elle was happy learning a skill that would help her business when she started it.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s kind of true.”
“Why go out with people if they aren’t going to include you? I mean, Seraph’s shows aren’t cheap.” Charlie sat in the chair next to her. She wore a red chiffon dressing gown wrapped around her slender dancer’s frame, and the thin fabric didn’t hide anything. Her tassel covered nipples were on display, as was the sequined g-string and stockings held up by suspenders. Fuck, she was so hot and so casually confident in her body.
“Willow is marrying my brother. He wanted me to go to her hen’s night.”
“Oh, family.” There was some weight behind those two words, and Elle wanted to ask more.
“Yeah. Anyway, I enjoyed the show. I’ve never been to anything like this before, so I had no idea what to expect. You were really amazing.” Elle stopped before she blurted out something about wanting to fuck her.
“So were you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not everyone in the audience is cool with getting involved, but you were great.”
Elle flushed. “I even swallowed.” Shit. “I mean, shit...”
Charlie roared with laughter. “Oh my God, that’s hilarious.” She clapped her hands and kept laughing until Elle had no option but to join in. Either that or actually hide under the table. “I’m sorry, but that’s so funny.”
“It’s okay. I mean, I wasn’t sure of the protocol.”
Charlie was still giggling. “I’m pretty sure there isn’t one, but you are so cool. Just going along with my nonsense.”
No one had ever called her cool before—geeky, uptight, and bookish were words people usually wrongly used for her—so Elle just bit her lip and nodded. It was almost like Charlie could see through the carefully crafted façade. After a moment, Charlie reached up and brushed her thumb over Elle’s lip.
“So pretty and cool with it. I bet you don’t even know how beautiful you are with those dark brown eyes, staring at me like I’m special.”
Elle swallowed. “What?”
