Page 24 of Devoted (Love and Burlesque #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
KNIGHT
Listen to the sexy magician.
I ’m certain I have two left feet at this point in my first rehearsal. By the way Dom looks at me, I think he believes it as well.
“Why is there so much dancing in a fucking magic act, anyway?” I complain, trying to catch my breath. Snapping at him is unjustified, and I know that. He very graciously allowed me into his act at the last minute because I had no clue what I would do on my own.
Since the encounter with Vivian in the costume room, my temper has gotten the best of me and brought out the worst in me. Due to my normal business dealings and everything that comes with being a more involved owner, I am exhausted beyond belief.
Coming home late at night to an empty house hasn’t done anything to quell the loneliness, either.
In times when my guard is down and I finally let my thoughts swirl around my mind, the only image I conjure is coming home to Vivian.
I want to lift her in my arms, tell her how much I’ve missed her, and kiss her senseless every night.
At least I’ll be able to do that tonight, and that has to be enough for now. It’s all I’ll allow myself.
“I ain’t standing in one place the whole time, there’s some finesse to it, man,” Dom replies, effectively shaking me of my thoughts. He towers over me as I bend at the waist and rest my hands on my knees. The magician has his hands on his hips while he looks at me disapprovingly.
The main reason I wanted to combine efforts with Dom, the BDSM magician, was that I thought I could get away with being an assistant who hands him props every once in a while.
But, no, this man is riding me harder than Vivian did a week ago.
“So get over it, and build up some rhythm, boss .” Dom slaps my shoulder as he returns to our starting position.
When I follow his orders without a retaliating punch, I know I’ve become a better man than I was a decade ago.
A younger Knight, fresh out of disastrous marriage number two, wouldn’t have hesitated to clock the guy for speaking like that.
Even if he was right about my attitude. Honestly, especially if he was right.
I wasn’t one to listen to much logic or reason back then, including taking responsibility for my actions.
“Let’s try again,” Dom orders, counting us off.
I shut my mind off this time, pushing away my nagging complaints, and only focusing on doing this correctly. Failure is not an option. I can’t embarrass myself in this performance.
He takes the lead, performing his tricks while I mostly set up his next one or distract the audience with seductive movements that usually just entail a flash of skin. However, some spots in the routine require Dom and me to be plastered against one another, performing those movements together.
I admire what a natural-born leader he seems to be, and how professional he is about ensuring his act goes perfectly. I’m impressed.
The routine goes a lot more smoothly than before, and Dom cheers for me by the end of our rehearsal.
While I’m sitting and wiping the sweat off my forehead with the end of my shirt, the magician comes up and stands before me with his arms crossed.
“It’s easier when you submit, isn’t it?” he asks, like it’s the most casual thing to inquire from someone who is basically a stranger.
“I’m sorry?” I reply as my mind freezes for a second. There isn’t any way he would know about mine and Vivian’s exploration of our dynamic. How could he know?
“When you shut off your inner voice and just go with the flow, it feels easier, right?” Dom asks, and I keep looking at him with confusion on my face. “During rehearsal, you did a lot better after you stopped grumbling.” He motions to the stage with a nod of his head. “Stop thinking so much.”
What in the fuck is this? The man who pulls dildos out of a top hat for a living has analyzed me after one reluctant rehearsal?
I stare at him, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and I decide to take his advice and give in. “Is it that easy to tell, or are you a palm reader as well as a magician?” I ask, my hostility transforming into curiosity with every second.
“I know a subby when I see one,” he states. “And before you get in my face about that term, it’s not one I use as an insult. You are what you are, just like I am what I am. Ain’t nothing wrong about it.” He offers me his hand to help me get up from my sitting position.
After staring at his hand for a second, I take it and stand, continuing to look at him like he’s truly made of magic. He doesn’t let go of my hand right away; instead, he shakes it twice firmly.
“My real name is Domingo. Nice to meet you, boss.” An easy smile, the first one I’ve seen from him, spreads across his lips.
Shaking his hand and returning the smile, I reply, “You can call me Knight.”
Finding camaraderie in BDSM… I never would have thought it possible.