Show Off, page 5
“Um, what other events do you hold?” Elle had assumed Seraph’s Burlesque Club was only open at night for live events, but the idea that they held dance classes during the day opened up a lot more possibilities for how people used the space. She’d need to understand it all before she planned any changes.
Charlie raised one eyebrow. “You can get the schedule from Beth.”
“I know. But I like talking to you.” Elle pinched her lips together. Shit. She shouldn’t have admitted that—not when she was attempting to stay focused on her job—but Charlie just grinned, then winked.
“It’s because I have nice tits, isn’t it?”
Elle’s face bloomed with heat and she stammered, unable to get out a functional word.
“Ha, look at you. I shouldn’t tease, but it’s such fun.” Charlie bumped Elle’s elbow with her hand and barked out her big laugh. “Okay. So we obviously have the evening events with different shows. We do burlesque shows from Thursday to Sunday. We are shut on Monday nights, and on Tuesday and Wednesday we have a couple of other things, like drag trivia and sometimes a band or other live music. Mostly, Seraph’s is a typical bar with live entertainment. We hold dance classes during the day for people who want to learn burlesque, and thanks to Ben, the tech, we also do photography sessions for people who want a professional photo of themselves in a burlesque costume but don’t want to actually perform.”
“That’s a thing?” Elle had so much to learn about this business before she began the redesign of their spaces.
“Yeah. Funny, isn’t it? A lot of our clients are women who want a pretty photo of themselves to give as a gift to their partner, and a burlesque costume shows off a lot of skin in an elegant way without being totally nude. It’s really popular. We get a few men too, mostly thanks to Ace and Jack’s connections.”
“Okay, and where do you do that?”
“We usually take the photos on the stage. The lighting is the best, and people like to have the framing of the stage curtains and unfocused sense of audience.”
Elle couldn’t imagine wanting to give someone an almost nude photo of themselves, but then, people sent naked selfies all the time. Just because she wouldn’t do it didn’t really mean anything, and she’d have loved to have a photo of Charlie that had been created just for her. A rough lump filled her throat and she swallowed. Focus on work.
“Okay, so you need quite a versatile space with room for different types of uses, as well as enough planning to ensure it can be potentially used in ways that you aren’t doing now.”
“Sure.”
“Do you disagree?” Elle heard an odd note in the tone used by Charlie. Had she missed something?
“No. That all sounds good, but I don’t understand how Beth can afford this. I mean, we’ve been doing really well since stuff reopened—”
It wasn’t Elle’s place to talk about the grant that Beth had acquired for Seraph’s. “That’s a conversation you’ll have to have with her. It’s not really my place to discuss my client’s budget without permission.”
“Not even for me?” Charlie had a quizzical expression and Elle frowned. “It’s fine. Don’t tell me. I’m teasing.”
“Okay.” Elle tried to relax. They used to tease each other like this; about sex and random things, never about anything important. “Is it weird to have me here working?”
“I already said no, but if you keep mentioning it, then I’m going to think that you think it’s weird.”
A warm rush of blood spread over Elle’s face. “You have a good point.”
“I know. I’m all about good ideas.” Charlie’s smile heated up the room.
“Great ones too.”
“Fuck, I miss kissing you.” Charlie pounced before Elle had time to adjust and prepare herself. For what? For an incredible kiss that felt like home. She didn’t need to prepare herself for that, she only needed to fall into it. Into bliss.
The subtle rose of Charlie’s perfume surrounded Elle and she drew the fragrance deep into her lungs. Elle kissed Charlie with all the longing of missed time. It’d been forever since she’d kissed Charlie and she poured herself into the kiss. She slowed the urgency of their mouths, crushed together, and relaxed to make the kiss more languid. Sweet nips of lips and darting strokes of her tongue over Charlie until heat blossomed between them. Elle pressed her body against Charlie, slowly moving her until Charlie was cushioned between Elle and the wall. Just like the first time, so long ago. And just like then, this didn’t have to mean anything. It was the hook up of old lovers, comfortable with each other’s bodies and pleasure. Elle knew what Charlie liked and she intended to give and take with the same ease.
“Touch me,” Charlie breathed urgently into their kiss, the words muffled by their proximity, but Elle knew what she meant. She pushed her hand between them, cupping Charlie’s mound. The zip of her jeans was rough against her palm and Charlie’s eyes widened and darkened. Elle blinked for a second, unable to believe that she was here, ready to fuck Charlie in the middle of the afternoon where anyone could walk past.
“Someone might see.” She pulled back a fraction.
Charlie grinned. “Isn’t that exciting?”
“Um, yeah, sure.”
“If it’s not for you, we can stop.”
Elle didn’t want to stop. “Can we go somewhere more private?”
“People hardly ever walk this way.”
Elle swallowed. “I’m not an exhibitionist like you.”
“Ouch.” Charlie slid sideways away from Elle, with her hand pressed to her chest, and Elle’s breath stuck in her lungs. Shit. Just as Elle was about to open her mouth and apologise profusely, Charlie laughed.
“Oh shit, you should see your face. I miss the fuck out of teasing you. You always fall for stuff like that.”
“I happen to like consent with my hook ups.” Elle wanted to put her hands on her hips and glare, but that seemed to be too obviously falling into Charlie’s nonsense.
“So now I’m an exhibitionist who doesn’t care for consent. Careful.” Charlie grinned and tilted her head to the side, so Elle at least had a clue that this was the teasing continuing.
She shook her head slowly.
“Damn you. You know when I first saw you up on that stage, I couldn’t understand how doing burlesque was empowering, but fucking look at you. You’ve survived all this time and you are still amazing.”
“Fabulous, darling. I’m fucking fabulous.” Charlie threw her head back and laughed.
Elle wanted to capture the sound and keep it forever. It was the easiest thing in the world to fling her arms around Charlie’s shoulders and kiss her. Deeply, passionately, and with zero regard for the fact that they might be seen by someone. Charlie’s boldness could be hers. Because damn it, Elle was a successful businessperson now, not the downtrodden accounts manager at a shitty office furniture sales company. She had earned great sex with a fun partner. Charlie. Elle was a success and she’d bloody well demonstrate her new-found brilliance to Charlie.
Decision made, Elle bent over and took off her shoes. “Come here. Get on your knees and spread your legs.” She bit her lip as Charlie obeyed, then Elle walked to stand between Charlie’s thighs.
“Now what?”
Elle licked her dry lips—she would do this and it didn’t matter who might see them—and she slowly pulled down her trousers and panties so she was bare from the waist down. “Kiss me.” She leaned forward against the wall. At least the wall would hide the furious blush that made her face blazing hot. Then Charlie nuzzled against her bare pussy and the surroundings disappeared. Everything focused on how Charlie’s tongue flicked across her clit.
Elle groaned. “Fuck yes. I’ve missed you.” She stretched out and welcomed the way Charlie caressed the back of her thighs and gripped her bottom. “Harder.”
Charlie covered her with her mouth and Elle’s knees weakened as Charlie savoured her with a decent tongue lashing.
“That’s indecent,” Elle managed to croak out a few words of encouragement, ones that worked as Charlie’s fingers dug into her flesh and her tongue and lips created pleasure in her core. Every lick had Elle pressing her palms harder against the wall, needing to hold on tight before her knees weakened. She used her toes to help support her, with the added benefit that Charlie moaned as Elle’s toes pushed up against her tight jeans. Soon, Elle’s thighs trembled and when Charlie nipped at her clit, she came undone with her eyes closed and her hands sliding on the rough wall of the hallway. Fireworks surrounded her as waves of wonderful spasms flowed through her body.
“Holy fuck, Charlie. I—” She couldn’t form any more words as Charlie’s urgent tongue gave her no reprieve. She bucked and cried out, over and over, until she sank to the floor and Charlie held her tight.
“I missed you.” Elle found the last of her energy and kissed Charlie. The kiss was different to before, softer, with the taste of herself on Charlie’s lips and Charlie’s arms around her shoulders, holding her tight.
“I love it when you order me around, and then come completely undone.” How could Charlie manage to talk right now? All Elle wanted to do was cuddle into Charlie and close her eyes. An alarm sounded and she blinked.
“Shit.” They were back stage at Seraph’s in the middle of the day where anyone could walk past and she’d been so lost in being tongue fucked by Charlie that she sat here with her pants around her ankles and only Charlie’s arms protecting her.
“Yeah, that’s my class alarm. I’d better go.”
Elle scrambled to her feet and pulled up her trousers.
“Slow down, it’s okay.” Charlie rose to her feet and helped Elle with her pants. “You really are delightful.”
“Why?” Elle shouldn’t ask. She closed her eyes, not wanting to see Charlie’s expression.
“Because you are so commanding, and then so awkward. It’s like you get lost in the moment and show me your real self, then you pull on your barriers again and hide.”
Elle straightened her top and patted her hair. “Thanks. I guess I’ll see you around.” She bolted down the hallway before she admitted how close Charlie had gotten to the truth. Sometimes sex was the only place that she truly felt like herself, a bolder version of herself, someone she wanted to be. An aspiration. Even now as the owner of a successful business, Elle still had to work to overcome her natural hesitancy. As she paced away, she realised she owed Charlie an orgasm. She skipped and let out a wild giggle. This wouldn’t be their last time.
Chapter 5
Charlie was still buzzing when she walked—skipped—into work the next day. After initially assuming she’d messed up, she’d ended up with incredible stolen moments spent kissing Elle until she came all over her face. There was something extra about the way Elle balanced all the facets of herself; it’d never be boring being with her. The way she stressed about being in a hallway where anyone could see them, then with a little teasing, she’d made the fucking stunning decision to strip off her pants and bare herself, not just to Charlie, but to anyone who might walk down the narrow space connecting the rooms behind the stage. The audacity in her deliberate choice was enough to have Charlie lingering on the edge of an orgasm even before she’d tasted Elle on her tongue. During the pandemic lockdowns, Charlie had missed Elle’s clean musk and delicious taste and her first taste again hadn’t disappointed. Unlike everything else. The sheer relief that something was still as good as before overwhelmed her with joy.
Without any time to process what had happened, Charlie had bounced into her dance class, and it’d been the best, most energetic session she’d had in ages. Yes, being with Elle made all aspects of her life better. Could she admit that aloud yet? No. Instead she’d focused on work. The photography session with Sarah went well; she had chosen the correct size for herself and Ben’s photos were stunning. He brought out the depth of Sarah’s brown skin and the headdress they’d picked made her black hair look so luxurious. Charlie wanted to see Elle wear the same outfit because her black hair had the same potential; except better because it was Elle.
Charlie dumped her bag on her desk and turned on the computer, ready to plan the next month’s events with a fresh upbeat positivity. She’d missed feeling like this. Her phone rang. Mum. With a deep breath that did nothing to ease the sudden tension caused by seeing her mum’s name on her phone screen, she answered. As ever, the timing sucked most of the joy out of her lungs.
“Hi Mum.” Once again, years of acting training came in handy as she managed to sound upbeat.
“Charlotte, darling.” Oh fuck, that tone didn’t bode well.
“What do you want?”
“Why would you ask such a thing? Don’t you want to know how I am?”
“Fine. How are you, Mum?”
“I’m great. Do you remember Tom Scottridge?”
Charlie rolled her eyes. The whole fucking world knew Tom Scottridge; Oscar winner, silver fox, heart throb to the world’s middle-aged women and many others too. “The actor?”
“Yes. I’m going to be working with him on a new project.”
Shit, that was massive news. “Congratulations, Mum.” Charlie didn’t have to pretend to be pleased for her. A project with Tom Scottridge was a huge coup for her C-grade soap opera career.
“Thanks. So I thought we’d come along tonight and watch your show.”
Charlie choked on her own spit. “Excuse me?”
Her mother had never come to any of her shows because having her there would apparently only encourage Charlie to keep dancing. Supposedly, burlesque was beneath her talents, and apparently Charlie ought to be working alongside her on TV. Charlie had grown up on soap opera sets. It wasn’t a life she wanted for herself. Burlesque was her own space, on stage, away from her mother’s life, a place she could showcase her abilities without judgement and all the snide politics that came with struggling actors bickering over roles.
“Yes. It’s been so much fun to spend time with dear Tom again. Did you know we worked together on ‘Red Roses Of The Plains’ before you were born?” Her mother had a bit part on the show and from there, she’d gained the role of the elegant private school headmistress in Chelsea Avenue, a long running soap opera, where she’d been ever since.
“Yes, Mum. You mention that every time we see a headline of his.” Which was often because the actor was everywhere. He was literally one of the biggest actors in the world, making a pile of high earning movies with his chiselled jaw and upper class British accent. Charlie had never really understood the appeal. Tom Scottridge was the epitome of the bland white actor that looked like about ten other actors; dark blonde hair, blue eyes, generally pleasing features. To be fair to the guy, Charlie didn’t find many men attractive, and when she did, her type tended towards people who were less model-like and more interesting.
“Well, he is your father, so it’s only natural that I’d mention him often.”
Charlie gaped at her phone. What the fucking hell? Mum had never mentioned THAT fact before. She couldn’t speak or breathe. Fucking what?
“And since we are about to work together again, I thought it might be fun if we were seen out and about together. Naturally, we would come to support you, even if he won’t want it mentioned that you are related to him.”
“Right.” Because an actor of his level couldn’t possibly have a burlesque dancer as a daughter. She was too stunned to actually say that aloud. Charlie thought her eyes might fall out of her head. Shit. Fuck. What was worse? Her mother coming to watch her, just casually mentioning her father was bloody Tom Scottridge. She’d never ever mentioned that before. And... And they were both coming to watch her tonight.
Nope. There was no fucking way she was going to perform in front of her mum and her alleged father, who happened to be the biggest fucking name in acting, not just right now but for the last decade. Shit, shit. Thank fuck to the heavens that she’d never lusted after him. How fucking awkward would be to have a memory of his poster on her walls as a teenager or some shit? At least she’d spared herself that misery. She wanted to hide under her kitchen table or stand in Hyde Park and scream to the sky or something. Anything but this.
“It’s not about that. He’s very high profile now and we are about to embark on a new project, and he doesn’t want it derailed.”
“Hold on. Are you saying that he knows about me?”
“Always has.”
Hold on, what? Charlie’s brain must lack oxygen because did her mum just say that Tom Scottridge knew about her this whole time? What an asshole, ignoring her like that. Charlie had been okay with never knowing who her father was. She’d always vaguely assumed Mum had picked someone from a sperm bank.
“We agreed to keep it secret from the press. How do you think I could afford all those dance and acting classes for you?” The nasty revelations kept coming.
“And was the deal that you didn’t tell me?” She was so stunned that not a shred of bitterness came through in her tone. A tiny taste of lemon peel painted her tongue—the hurt would come soon. This was like being abandoned without knowing it.
“Darling. It’s not like that. I couldn’t tell anyone.”
“Including me?”
“Anyone.”
“So yes, including me. Fine. Whatever, Mum. I’ll see you both tonight.” Charlie hung up before she said something she regretted.
Luckily Charlie had never done anything that might be fucking weird thanks to not having that rather crucial piece of information. Like, she had never met the guy, so at least she hadn’t accidentally hit on her own father, but she’d also never lusted after photos of the guy or anything like that. Tom Scottridge was everywhere; it was a miracle she’d never been drawn into discussions on how hot (or not) he was. Her bloody mother deserved a tongue lashing over this—maybe one day—except she was all the family she’d ever had, and for all her selfish faults, she was still her mum.
One thing was true. There was no way Charlie was dancing tonight. She paced around the room trying to figure out this whole thing. Tom Scottridge was her father. She opened the search app on her phone and googled him. Yes, he’d definitely worked with her mum in the same year that she’d been conceived. It was unlikely that it was one of Mum’s stories. She called her mum back, who answered on the first ring.
