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Lucas immediately felt the energy coming off Naomi. She nodded, smiling at him. "This is great, I love burlesque."
"Do they have a burlesque club in Edinburgh?"
"I've seen several different events advertised. Nothing as big as this."
They moved on to a display of body piercing.
Naomi watched, fascinated, as a built guy revealed his multiple piercings on a starkly lit set. Preparations were under way for him to receive more.
Lucas noticed she was quieter. "That kind of pain doesn't appeal so much?"
She shook her head. "It's something I can watch, but not for me. Why, were you planning on having me studded?"
He laughed. "No. You're perfect as you are."
In one of the performance rooms they watched a beautiful transvestite singing Edith Piaf songs. Naomi snuggled against him. "I adore Piaf," she murmured against his ear when he ducked down to ask if she was enjoying it.
It was something he didn’t know about her. There was so much more to learn, and he anticipated every moment of it.
"Does it concern you that someone might recognize you?" she asked. "You don’t wear a mask."
"Not at all. The fetish scene is part of who I am."
"Lucas, there's so much to love and learn about you," she purred.
"I was just thinking that about you." It meant a lot that she genuinely respected his openness about his BDSM side. And something about the way she'd said that triggered a reaction he wasn't expecting – he craved her. He wanted to hold her and then set her on a podium and let people look at his woman. It was like a confirmation of something he sensed about her in the beginning – they were kindred souls. She'd indicated she hadn't explored that side of herself before. He was more than willing to help her explore.
"Do you come here often?" She chuckled, it was deep and throaty, and it made him want to stroke her, so he did.
"A few times a year." He moved his hand under he hair, kneading the back of her neck affectionately.
"You haven't met anyone here?"
"I don’t think of the scene that way. I've never come here to meet someone. I just enjoy the liberation, the open decadence of the sexual self. I've always felt it’s a place to share with your other half, a playground to explore together."
"Your other half?" she repeated.
It was a b
it of a romantic turn of phrase, he supposed. But it's how he thought of it – and what he wanted her to be. He silently admitted that to himself. He took her fingertips to his lips and kissed her. "Sorry, I guess it does sound a bit old fashioned and romantic. My parents use the phrase about one another, that’s where it came from."
"Oh Lucas, you have parents." She chuckled.
She could have teased him about the romantic turn of phrase, and he was grateful she didn't. He would tell her how he felt about her soon, but not now. "I do, although my father and I don’t often see eye to eye."
"Ah, yes you mentioned your father was in the retail trade. I confess I hadn’t ever though about Lucas Eaglestone – Mr. Intimating himself – having parents." Her eyes twinkled. "It seems like you were just made this way. Now I'm trying to picture you as a teenager."
"Oh please. Come on. Time for another tequila."
"Wait. One more question since we're talking about this place. I didn't want to bring this subject up," she said, "but I must ask."
"Go on."
"Did you bring Clara here?"
"Once. At the time she said she wasn't comfortable being public about her sexuality. I came to realize she wasn't into this kind of sexuality." He frowned.
"I'm sorry, I had to ask. I can relax now." She hugged close to his side as they stood by the bar.
