Chapter Five

Sophia came back down a half hour later wrapped in a black hooded cloak, which hung to the floor. She had adjusted her makeup to full-on glam. Her open-toed, silver shoes peeped out from under the cloak as she walked. She clicked her way to the stage, and a hush fell over the room. It’s now or never. She took a deep breath, and approached the microphone.

“Lucien, darlin’, dim the house lights and the kill this mic, would ya? Just give me the overhead. I need my hands free.” Once it was done, she addressed the room. “Are y’all ready for me to keep my promise?”

There were catcalls and other affirmations from her guests, which made her chuckle sexily. “All right, here we go.”

Sophia lowered her voice to a sexy rasp. “For those of you who weren’t here last week, I was asked by several of my regulars just what it is about Bon Jovi that gets their women all hot and bothered. I thought that I’d just try to explain it to you tonight, in a way you can understand it.” A few people in the audience whistled.

She looked down into the faces in front of her, grateful for the dim lighting and shadows. She knew if she could clearly make out any of their expressions, she’d lose her nerve, not go as far as she had planned.

“Noah, Grant, give me some sexy jazz. The rest of y’all, go have a seat.” Noah and Grant waited until the others left the stage, then started a soft, slow, sexy sax tune wafting through the room. More whistles from the crowd. Sophia closed her eyes, and writhed to the music.

Richie came back to join Jon, who had settled back into his booth, beer in hand. Both of them were smiling broadly. They had just enough ego to want to hear a sexy story about themselves. Whatever she had in store, the men in the audience were riveted. It had to do with the cloak, those sexy shoes and little red toenails peeking out from underneath. Hell, this was going to be fun. The two exchanged amused glances then turned their attention back to the stage.

Eyes still shut, Sophia began to speak softly, seductively. “Imagine, an arena filled with thousands of people, buzzing with excitement. The house lights go down, and the music starts. We hear Richie’s guitar filling the night. The deep quivering in our souls, in our very core starts. We know that we are about to experience something amazing. Something we will remember for the rest of our lives. Ladies, you’ve seen him here tonight, heard him, watched his beautiful, talented hands move. Who among you out there tonight didn’t fantasize about being the instrument he played with those exquisite fingers?”

The women in the audience called out their agreement, and looked over to where Richie and Jon were sitting. Richie gave the crowd a rakish grin and a little wiggle of his fingers, and the women all sighed dramatically, batting their eyes.

Jon rolled his eyes at the antics. “Grow up, asshole,” he laughed.

“Screw you,” Richie responded, laughing himself.

Sophia continued her lesson. “Now that Richie has our blood flowing, Jon takes the stage. The first glimpse of blond over blue takes our breath away. Baby, when he smiles, it’s like Christmas mornin’. Doesn’t matter how far from the stage we are, we feel the heat of his gaze on us, and are quaking with the anticipation of what is to come. His mouth is mesmerizing, hypnotizing us, and fueling our fantasies. We all imagine what it would taste like, what it would feel like pressed against our throats.”

Jon’s mouth went dry. Damn.

Sophia opened her eyes to wink in Jon’s direction. “Once we can drag our eyes from his mouth, we feast our eyes on his hair.” Sophia spun around to show her back to the audience, her cloak billowing out to give a glimpse of silver beneath. She dropped her hood to reveal an intricate hairdo held together by chopsticks. She slowly raised her arms, and eased the sticks out of her hair, one at a time, dropping them to the stage floor. Giant, glossy, chestnut-colored curls rolled down her neck, ending halfway down her back. She put her hands to her head, threading the tresses between her fingers and rubbing her scalp and groaning softly, lolling her head from side to side.

Richie glanced at Jon. His friend was clearly sucked in to the tale – or maybe it was the teller. Damn, why do the interesting ones all want Jon? He shook his head ruefully, and turned back to the stage.

Sophia had lowered her voice to a whisper, and groaned. “All that glorious, thick hair. We imagine ourselves pushing our fingers through that honey-colored heaven. Feeling its weight, its silky texture. We imagine grabbing hold of his hair, gently pulling him in for a kiss -- a kiss on that perfectly sinful mouth.”

Jon sat forward. His pants were now uncomfortably tight. He bet he wasn’t the only one suffering that particular affliction right about now. He scanned the room. From what he could see, nobody was breathing. Even the musicians on the stage were having trouble not getting lost in the story. Damn, she's good. Richie caught Jon’s eye and raised his eyebrows, mouthing “Holy shit”. Jon exhaled sharply.

“Then, there’s the skin he shows.” Sophia allowed the cloak to fall from her now bare shoulders, catching it as it dropped to her waist. There was a soft gasp in the audience, and Sophia smiled to herself. I’ve got them. The back of her gown plunged down below where the cloak was trapped, and was held up by a web of shimmery silver threads. She continued to sway to the music, once again addressing the men in the crowd. “Seeing that sliver of chest drives us wild.” She turned around slowly, showing the front of her gown. It plunged low, barely clinging to her breasts, showing her own sliver of chest.

“We all imagine what it would feel like to slip our fingers inside his shirt, and skim our blood-red nails lightly against that hard, muscular body.” She trailed her own crimson fingernails down the strip of skin she was showing, biting her bottom lip, then licking it. She shivered. “And we imagine what he would taste like.” She completed her pirouette, once again turning her back to the crowd. She continued her seductive swaying.

Richie smothered a laugh. “Shit, man, she’s good at this. Look at you. You’re loving every minute of this, aren’t you, you egotistical bastard?”

“Shut up. I’m trying to hear the lady,” Jon retorted, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Then, we seek out the ink,” Sophia said, as she dropped the cloak a little more, revealing a tattoo at the small of her back – a heart with a dagger through it, “on his strong, muscular shoulders. Ooh, they’re so very sexy. We imagine raising our hands to grip those strong shoulders while he's kissing us; to keep us from melting at his feet.”

Sophia took a steadying breath, and said “Then there’s that ass,” as she dropped the cloak altogether. The gown she had chosen tonight was the silver-white color of a full moon, and she wasn’t wearing anything beneath. The gown clung to her provocatively. This is why I have a gym upstairs, she thought. She knew that with the lighting set this way, she looked nearly naked. It was exactly the effect she was going for. She rubbed her own hands slowly over her body, writhing as if in the throes of passion.

Sophia looked over her shoulder, and nodded imperceptibly to Will and Matt. They came up on stage, taking their positions. Sophia whispered once more, still looking over her shoulder. “Finally, and most devastatingly, there’s the music, the words.”

Jon recognized the sexy, sultry opening bars of a song from one of their lesser-known cuts as it filled the room. Sophia turned, once again facing the audience. “Those words that rip into us, touch us in our hearts, at our cores. We are filled with thoughts of love, lust, passion, and good ol’ raunchy sex. The music is the backdrop for our undoing.”

Sophia looked in Jon’s direction. He swallowed thickly. He knew the song; remembered every word, and knew what was coming. He couldn’t move now if the building was on fire.

Richie laughed softly, watching him. “Oh man, you’re screwed,” he said. Jon shut him up with a look.

Sophia began to sing, her voice gravelly with passion.

When I look in your eyes I can feel the fire.
A see through disguise can't conceal desire
I've been reading your lips, they don't need no translation
They want more than a kiss, I come to make my donation

So turn out the lights, I'm going down slowly.
Don't tell me what's right. Just tell me you want me.

The heat in her voice was unmistakable. Jon briefly closed his eyes, letting her voice wash over him. Richie had his eyes closed, and was swaying in time with the music, breathing hard, almost moaning. Jon opened his eyes and threw a punch at him. “Cut that out,” he growled. “I don’t need to see that.”

Richie grinned back. “It’s either that, or you have to watch me jack off right here.”

“Shit,” Jon said. “Never mind.” He looked back at the stage.

Come, come, come a little bit closer
I want to play doctor.
It keeps getting harder, harder, harder to keep me away

She locked eyes with Jon for delivery of the last lines before the chorus.

I want to taste the sweat that’s running' off of your body.
Get the sheets all wet, I wanna make you feel naughty

When the lyrics faded out, all that was left was the music. Sophia looked over to Lucien, who had a grin a mile wide on his face. Time to be teacher’s pet, he thought, and the envy of nearly every man here.

Sophia held out her hand to him, silently beckoning. With a glance back at Antonio, he vaulted the bar, and made his way to the stage, lifting Sophia down gently. Sophia swayed to the music, wrapping herself around Lucien like a stripper’s pole, reveling in the music, Lucien’s strong arms, and what she imagined the audience was thinking.

Raising her arms over her head, she started moving sensually against him. The pair had been dancing together for years, and were completely comfortable in each other’s arms. Lucien spun her around, grabbing her waist from behind, and pulled her in close, held her tight. She melted back against Lucien’s chest, letting him support her weight. They swayed to the intoxicating rhythm, Lucien with his hands in Sophia’s hair, massaging her scalp. Sophia’s hands were high on Lucien’s thighs, gripping lightly. She let her gaze linger on Jon before closing her eyes and losing herself in the music.

When the music ended, she turned to Lucien and slowly put her fingers into her hair. With a breathy moan, she tugged his face toward hers, and gave him a light kiss on the lips. The room was completely silent, except for some very ragged breathing.

Sophia then turned to face the crowd. “And that, gentlemen, is why we get the way we do when those boys over there,” she gestured in the direction of the boys in question, “do what they do.” She made a deep curtsy, and left the room.

All at once, the room exploded in a cacophony of shouts, whistles, groans, and assorted other appreciative noises. Lucien went back to the bar, turned the lights back on and asked for Last Call. He and Antonio pulled several drafts, knowing the men in here tonight were going to need it.