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“Understood.” She fluffed up her hair. “How do I look?”
“Gorgeous, as always.”
She pushed her door open. “Come on. It’ll be fine.”
We paid our cover at the door and stepped into the club. What I saw was not what I’d expected at all.
Even with the lights low and the steady beat of music pulsing through it, the club had a whimsical and classy feel. Tables in various sizes and shapes encircled a huge stage. Some had poles attached to them, and a few large booths lined the side walls. In the far corner was an area with what looked like confessionals, only instead of doors, they had floor-to-ceiling curtains. The bar took up most of the back wall, and shirtless bartenders hurried about filling drink orders.
“There.” Sloane pointed to an open table near the confessional area. It was far enough from the stage that Graham shouldn’t be able to see us.
“Go grab it. I’ll get us drinks.”
She took off to claim our table. I went to the bar and leaned against it.
“Hey, handsome.” An absolutely gorgeous guy stopped in front of me. “What can I get you?”
“A Cape Cod and whatever local IPA you have on tap.”
“Coming right up.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes from him as he made our drinks. Jesus. If the bartenders were this hot, how gorgeous were the other dancers?
He slid our drinks across the bar top and gave me the total. I pulled a few bills out of my wallet. “Thanks. No change.”
He winked and moved to the next patron.
The lights blinked. The music changed from an instrumental to a pulsing dance beat.
“And now, for your viewing pleasure,” a silky female voice came over the loudspeaker. “Let’s welcome our favorite twins to the stage.”
I nearly tripped over nothing. Twins?
The music swelled and transitioned seamlessly into a thumping alternative beat with a heavy guitar riff. Was that “Burn It to the Ground” by Nickelback?
I slid into the seat next to Sloane. Her eyes were glued to the stage as the spotlights flashed on, revealing two guys on either side of it. They wore identical loose pants, zip-up sweaters, and had black ball caps pulled low, obscuring their faces.
“You don’t think they’re actually twins, right?” Sloane leaned close and half shouted her question in my ear.
“Probably just two guys who look a bit alike.”
The beat changed, and the men started their routine.
They moved flawlessly together, like mirror images as they danced along with the music. As soon as the vocals kicked in, they pulled off their hats. Dark hair fell around their faces. Not only were they hot as fuck, they were also identical.
Sloane grabbed at my arm and gripped it so hard her nails dug into my skin.
The crowd went bananas as the men danced. The only difference I could see was one twin smirked and the other appeared almost bored while they danced. Their movements were intricate and mesmerizing, and they never missed a beat. Every single step was perfect and precise.
“Why is this so hot?” Sloane hissed in my ear as one twin slid in front of the other and sensually rolled his hips.
I opened my mouth to answer, but froze when the other twin reached around his brother and slid the zipper of his hoodie down. He pulled the material apart, revealing a thin white undershirt, then slowly slid it down his brother’s arms. The move was entirely innocuous, the implication was anything but.
Bills rained down on the stage as the twins danced and undressed each other. They expertly skirted the line between innocent and indecent, and the audience ate it up. The crowd screamed their appreciation and shouted the lyrics as they sang along. The energy in the room was electric, and it was hard not to get swept along with their enthusiasm.
When the twins were down to only identical pairs of black microbriefs, the room was in a tizzy. A cluster of patrons formed around a platform of sorts on one side of the stage, and others rushed to the stage to toss bills to the dancers.
Whatever remix they’d used had a long outro full of heavy beats, riffs, and bass drops. The twins bumped and grinded together, choreographed in a way that was so wrong, and so blisteringly hot.
