Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book #8)(25)
I turn back to Piper and Daisy who both look sickly pale and just a tiny bit afraid as the girls shake what their mommas gave them at the lot of us.
“I’m taking off to the little girls’ room. Be back in a flash!” Normally, one of them, both of them would have volunteered to go with me, but they’re too green to move at the moment. A waitress comes at me holding a tray full of liquid courage, and I gladly take a tiny blue shot from her. Everyone at the club assumes they know me, and for the life of me, I have no idea if Caila gets charged for all the freebies I manage to procure while I’m here. I settle myself at the bar, sipping my little blue something or other that tastes like nail polish remover over ice. The clock strikes nine, and the lights dim down before swirling into a dizzying inferno of color.
The emcee, a rather handsome, buff man with muscles that do their best imitation of rippling chocolate, takes the mic. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, I have the pleasure to introduce the lovely, the luscious, curvy-swervey, the fabulous Caila Jace!”
“Fabulous indeed.” A little giggle chortles from me.
The lights go rabid, as does the crowd. An entire thicket of men in business suits storms the runway like vultures at feeding time once my sister steps out onto that stage. There she is. My heart stills for a moment, because from this vantage point, even I’m having a great deal of difficulty telling us apart. If I wasn’t in my own skin, I’d doubt who was who, but I’m not here to see my beautiful sister strut her stuff. I turn my greedy eyes toward my stupefied best friends. Even Scarlett, in all her auburn glory, looks slightly aghast by what she’s experiencing. Piper gazes up, mesmerized by Caila, as she edges her way to the end of the stage. The music starts up obnoxiously loud, like the drumming of a 747 engine. Caila swings her hips to the rhythm, looking every bit calm, cool, and collected as if she wasn’t doing this in a room full of sexed-up men and women, but for a lover. But Caila isn’t the type to take a lover. She’s too busy taking men by their horn, and I do mean that in the singular sense, landing them right where she needs them. It’s safe to say my daddy’s abrupt departure did nothing to nurture normal male relations with the two of us.
Caila’s long blonde hair is blown out straight over her shoulders, pouring down her back like white glacial milk. She’s donned a cat suit made of black netting with jewels sewn into its webbing, giving her that glittering effect that blinds the audience every now and again. That, right there, is the best analogy of Caila. She’s so powerful and beautiful in her own right it’s blinding on occasion. But her breasts are bare, and moving freely to the beat as she dances seductively while owning that stage. You can see her perky little titties clear as day, despite the netting they’re enmeshed in. There’s a tiny vanity cluster of white rhinestones making an ill attempt to cover her personals down south, but, other than that, there I am prancing around in what God gave me for all to see. As it were, that’s not enough. A couple of male strippers dance out onto the stage with their muscles oiled down to a tan perfection, their smiles just as greasy as they help free my sister from that fishnet she’s tangled up in. Both Piper and Daisy drop their jaws, and by the looks of it their sanity as they gawk in horror. Piper wastes no time in jumping out of her seat.
“Holy hot mama!” I abandon my pretty little poison and run laughing and screaming as the music holds its own, deafening everyone in the vicinity to my cries.
Scarlett tries to stop Piper from getting on that stage, but she’s halfway to Caila by the time I arrive, so I do the only thing I can think of—jump on her shoulders like I’m trying to put out a fire.
“Relax! It’s not me!” I laugh right into her red-with-rage ear.
Piper turns just enough to identify this newfound monkey on her back and tips me over with the ease of a dump truck.
Daisy is quick to help me up and holds my chin in her cold, shaky hand. “What the hell?” Her little pert lips twist, letting me know she’s put it together, and she is not amused.
“I said I was just stepping away to the little girls’ room.” I bat my lashes at the two of them. “Where in God’s name did you think I went?” I attempt to fan myself with my hot pink fingernails.
“Shit.” Piper looks from me to the stage. “Okay, don’t freak out, but that chick on stage is wearing your face!”
Scarlett and I indulge in a nice, long laugh on behalf of our two besties. Caila’s routine comes to a close, and she struts on over. Both Scarlett and I don’t waste a moment in sharing a quick fist bump with my almost-mirror image. The music dies down, and the next girl appears on stage as Caila pulls me into a hug.
“Did we kill ’em?” She laughs, dabbing tears from the corners of her eyes as we resettle ourselves off the runway. I’m not the only one who gets a kinky thrill out of the deal.
“You killed us all right,” Piper snarls at my gorgeous other half.
Daisy pulls me in close, looking from me to my beautiful sister. Caila has three different makeup artists backstage who airbrush her to stripper-worthy perfection and utilize other far more secretive beauty tricks to get her to this level of flawlessness. Not that she needs it. Her confidence alone is a force to be reckoned with.
“What’s going on?” Daisy is a little curter than usual. She’s pre-law, and already I know she’ll make a great legal eagle one day. “Is this your sister?”