Naughty Bits: Too Hot to Print Read Online Free Page B

quirking in response. ‘I’ve never met a . . .’ She sketched a pause, flicking her gaze up and down the entire length of
Jerome’s phenomenal body – ‘ crowd I couldn’t handle.’
    He sketched a long slow wink as she pushed herself off the doorjamb, arching her back fractionally as she did so to show off her slim figure.
    ‘I bet you haven’t, baby girl,’ he purred as she walked away, a positive sashay in her step, down the corridor to where Carrie was indicating the room in which her costume was
stashed.
    ‘Oh, shit!’ Evie exclaimed, remembering what the brief encounter with the insanely hot Jerome had briefly pushed from her mind: she needed to ring Paulie and tell him she
wouldn’t be back for the late shift.
    And I’d better nail this audition, she thought grimly as she tapped the screen of her cellphone. Cause Paulie’s going to go crazy when I tell him he’s one girl down
on a busy night. If I don’t get the job here, I’ll be lucky to have one to crawl back to at the Midnight Lounge. . .
    * * *
    Paulie had, predictably, thrown a fit. Yelling curses down the phone, telling her that if he even let her back to the Lounge, she’d be working the shitty daytime shifts
from now to eternity, pointing out that the money she’d make doing burlesque was sweet fuck all compared to what she pulled in onstage at the Lounge – let alone what she could make
giving private dances.
    And Evie knew he was absolutely right.
    What the hell am I doing? I want to make a ton of money. I want the big bucks, the high life, the rich men who come into the Midnight Lounge and pick out girls to set up in apartments and
spoil the hell out of. I got one sugar daddy by shaking T&A on the Lounge stage – no reason I can’t meet a second just the same way. Lawrence broke up with me because he wanted to
be exclusive and I couldn’t promise him that. I wanted to look for another rich guy and keep Lawrence as my hot piece on the side, just like before.
    So I lost Lawrence, but my chances of meeting a big fat wallet on legs are way less likely if I’m doing burlesque at Maud’s. I’m turning into a performer, not someone
you’d expect to be selling sex. What the fuck am I thinking? I must be insane!
    But standing in the wings, her face and body made up in the shimmering green, silver and aquamarine tones she had spent the last few days designing for her mermaid look, neat little silver
shells covering her small breasts, a matching silver thong her only other piece of clothing, her mermaid tail held carefully in her hand – to avoid smudging her body makeup – she could
not have been more excited at the thought of embarking on this new career. Her heart was pounding as she listened to the audience gasp in excitement, and pictured them, in the space of a few
minutes, making the same sounds for her . . .
    I’ll be lucky! she thought, watching Jerome, who, amazingly, had curved his body into a perfect hoop and was rolling round the stage. This is a damn hard act to follow – he’s
the hottest, sexiest contortionist I ever saw in my life . . .
    Jerome’s body seemed to bound like a spring, popping out of the hoop into a handstand, the transition so smooth that even Evie, who had been a gymnast in high school, caught her breath,
unable to see how he had done it. His legs were spreading wide in the handstand, the muscles of his arms bulging as he held his torso perfectly still, his legs now wide in a centre split; the
audience whooped and cheered as the split opened further, his impossibly flexible hips allowing his legs to drop down on either side of his body, until, amazingly, his toes touched the stage.
    The pose made his crotch bulge out even more. The audience whooped as he folded forward, his round buttocks now on full view, just a narrow black strip of fabric between them, his body so smooth
that he must depilate on a daily basis – or maybe he’s had himself lasered, Evie thought. From her position in