Page 6 of Damian’s Conquest

“Turn around, please.” A moment later, she felt his hands on her back. “Okay, now inhale.”

She took in a breath, and the salesman pulled the zipper all the way up.

“Let’s have a look at you.”

She stepped out of the cabin and the man directed her toward a large mirror.

“Perfect,” he said. “As if it was made for you.”

He had to say that, of course. After all, he was a salesperson. She cast a hesitant look into the mirror and froze, barely recognizing herself. The costume was tight and gave her even more of an hourglass figure than she had. Her wide hips were hidden beneath the skirt that reminded her of a ballerina’s tutu. Her waist looked slim in comparison, the tight bustier making the most of her shape. Her boobs were barely contained by the red cups, and had it not been for the black lace trim, her nipples would have popped out.

“If that guy doesn’t notice you now, then he’s blind, honey,” the salesclerk said.

“I’ll take it.” Then she met his eyes in the mirror. “May I leave it on? I don’t think I’ll be able to zip it up on my own.” How she was gonna get out of the dress when the night was over, was anybody’s guess.

“Of course, you may.” Then he reached for the cape and draped it around her shoulders. “I’ll pack your clothes and ring you up.”

She glanced at the mirror again, grateful that the costume came with a cape, so she wouldn’t have to walk around town in this skimpy outfit. Her eyes fell on her shoes. She was wearing tennis shoes. Damn, she had to go back home first to slip into her high heels.

After paying for the costume, and returning home to change into black high heels, she called an Uber to drive her to the Mezzanine in SOMA. There was a line outside, but it seemed to move relatively quickly. With the red cape draped around her, Naomi waited patiently. She’d put her cell phone, her house key, a credit card, and some cash into a zipped pocket inside the cape, glad that she didn’t have to carry a handbag.

Naomi glanced at the people in the queue. Several of the men were dressed like pirates, one guy behind her had chosen to dress up like a devil, the woman next to him an angel, a Victoria’s Secret angel. Ahead of her were a couple of nurses, a woman in a catsuit, a gladiator, and a man in a Pharaoh costume.

The gladiator and the woman in the catsuit were let into the club by the big bouncer. He was at least six foot three, and had arms and a chest that looked like he spent twenty-four hours a day in the gym bench pressing two hundred pounds. His facial expression could only be described as stoic and unyielding. Yeah, nobody would mess with somebody like him.

The bouncer waved the Pharaoh inside, then blocked the two nurses. “We’ve already got enough nurses in there,” he claimed.

“What?” one of the girls asked.

“And sexier ones too. You’ve gotta do better than that,” the bouncer added.

“Come on!” the second girl complained. “I don’t see you wearing a costume.”

The bouncer took a step closer to the girl that had dared complain and glared at her. “This is my costume. I’m a bouncer.”

“Orlando. Be civil.”

At the female voice, the bouncer’s head whirled to a woman walking past Naomi. She was wearing a French maid outfit.

“Isabelle, evening,” he greeted her, a smile all of a sudden curling around his lips, his eyes drinking in the young woman’s enticing form.

She walked straight past him to the entrance door, bypassing the line. “See you later.”

“Enjoy your evening,” Orlando said, before he looked back at the two nurses. “Beat it.”

As the two nurses walked off cursing, Naomi quickly took her cape off and draped it over her arm, worried now. Would he reject her too?

When she suddenly stood only a few feet in front of Orlando, his earlier smile was gone. He ran his eyes over her, lingering first on her legs, then on her cleavage. Would he find her sexy enough to let her enter? Or did she not measure up? Was she looking vulgar rather than sexy, trashy rather than hot?

“Now that’s what I’m talking about.” He inhaled deeply. “Go in, enjoy yourself.”

Relieved, Naomi entered the club. Cool air blasted toward her, and she realized that the air conditioning was running overtime, clearly to make sure that the clubbers didn’t overheat inside their costumes.

The music was loud like she’d expected, a mix of eighties and nineties rock ‘n’ roll and pop. The place was packed, the dance floor rocking, the bar buzzing like a beehive, four bartenders busy serving drinks. Yes, tonight was the perfect night for snooping around the club. Everybody was so busy with enjoying themselves that they wouldn’t take any notice of her.

Game on.

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