Tease Me by Dawn Atkins

between them.
    The walls of the huge room were Pepto-Bismol pink and Day-Glo orange and the air was dense with the smell of hairspray, cosmetics and clashing perfumes. Overhead, speakers piped in the throbbing pulse of strip music from the lounge.
    She sneaked a glance at the women at the mirror. Bothsets of breasts were huge and barely quivered when the women moved their arms to work on their hair. Had to be silicon. And they both had hair extensions badly in need of repair, cheap and snarled.
    Rox, the waitress training her, whipped in then, climbed a ladder behind the two dancers, opened the cupboard and removed a clear plastic sack of bar towels, which she carried back out. The dressing room was a very busy, very confusing room. It was used for storage and janitorial supplies and men and women wandered in and out while the dancers changed clothes or walked around with no tops on. Very bizarre.
    Jackson entered the room and she adjusted her posture to seem calm and energetic. It hurt to fake it, but she didn’t want him to think she was in over her head. She had her pride. Lately, that seemed like all she had.
    “So, how are you holding up?” he asked in a tone that suggested he expected her to be suffering.
    “I’m getting the hang of it. Doing great,” she said cheerfully.
    The two dancers tied each other’s tops and bobbled past them, nodding at her and shooting Jackson flirtatious smiles. He smiled back, but didn’t even glance at their bodies. Amazing. He must be used to it.
    He moved to sit beside her, so she took her foot off the stool, then winced in pain.
    “Feet hurt?”
    “Not really. Well…maybe a little.”
    He looked down at them. “Look at those shoes. Sturdy doesn’t necessarily mean comfortable, you know. Give them here.” He gestured for her to lift her feet.
    “I’m fine. Really.”
    Jackson leaned down and popped off both shoes.
    The relief was enormous. “Oh, wow,” she breathed.
    Then he lifted one foot to his lap, his palm warm as a hot pad on her sole, and examined it—top, sides and heel. “Major blisters. Let me grab bandages. Scoot out of your panty hose for me.” He left the stool, then headed for the cupboards.
    She became vividly aware they were alone in the room. Rather than run to the restroom alcove, she stood and reached under her skirt to wiggle out of her panty hose while Jackson had his back to her. The dancers would have made this into something erotic, but she was just shoving them off, keeping herself mostly covered.
    When she looked up, Jackson was staring at her, mouth agape, first-aid kit in one hand. Caught, he jolted forward to his seat.
    She felt a little twinge of triumph. Sexy didn’t have to be graceful, she guessed. She balled up the stockings and sat on them.
    Jackson opened the blue metal box and took out adhesive strips and an antiseptic gel. She expected him to hand her the stuff, but he picked up one foot and set it on his lap. It was nice the way he was taking care of her, this big bear of a man, so gentle and solicitous. He made her feel…safe. She didn’t want to think too hard about how much that meant to her right now.
    The air between them warmed with intimacy. With her leg high like this, cool air reached her panties. She felt…exposed. All Jackson had to do was duck his head and he’d be able to see the place between her legs. The thought made her damp and she wanted to squirm on the stool.
    She noticed that her toes were incredibly close to Jackson’s zipper. She could shift her foot just a little bit andtouch him there, where he… bulged? As she watched, he swelled upward. Oh, wow. He was aroused.
    She lifted her gaze from the sight and snagged his. He knew she knew. Her heart leaped in her throat and her blood surged through her in thick waves. She took a raspy breath.
    Jackson cleared his throat and busied himself squeezing antiseptic gel onto his finger—was his hand shaking?—which he applied to her injured spots, his touch so