Black Jack Page 2

  “Jen just called. She’s got that same damn stomach virus as Marshall. Looks like you’re out both leads tonight.”

  “Fuck!” Emma cursed, turning to kick the mast of the fake ship.

  “Hey, take it easy on the props,” Travis hollered. “Took me ages to find a carpenter who could build that thing well enough to please you.”

  Emma threw Travis a dirty look, but didn’t reply.

  Jack tried to calm the storm—a role he was accustomed to playing with his friends. “So we’ll just find someone else. How about we split that phone list of yours? Start at the top and work our way down. Bet we could knock it out in under an hour.”

  She shook her head. “Too late for that now. We’ll never find anyone who can learn the part and get ready in just a few short hours.”

  “It’s not like there are scripted lines, Em. Isn’t that what you told me? The woman would just have to fight the kidnapping pirate and allow herself to be ravished onstage in front of a horny audience.” Jack wiggled his eyebrows suggestively and ran his hand along his half-erect, jeans-clad cock. “Hell, you can’t give up now. You promised me a hot captive.”

  She snorted. Jack enjoyed the familiar sound. “Christ, Carlysle. It’s not a fucking porno. All you have to do is pretend you’re doing it. Mimic the motions.”

  Travis interrupted their conversation. “Doesn’t matter if Jack plays the part or not. Without an actress, we may as well cancel the show.”

  Emma scowled. “It’s sold out. Do you know how much money we’d lose?”

  Travis rubbed his chin irritably, indicating he knew exactly what they were facing. “Yeah, Em. I think even with my limited math skills, I can work out the equation on that.”

  She sighed sadly. “I wasn’t insinuating that—”

  “I know,” Travis interjected. His business acumen had taken both Jack and Emma by surprise. The guy was born to run a club—except for the lack of social skills. For that, he had Emma.

  “Why don’t you do it?” Jack suggested. The words popped out before he could think better of them. He’d enjoyed practicing his role with Emma and he hadn’t exactly been looking forward to sharing the stage with a stranger.

  Travis burst out laughing. “Holy shit. Now I’d pay to see that, and it’s my fucking club.”

  Emma scowled at Travis. “Go back into your hole, little worm. Crunch numbers, think up all those grand schemes you’ll make me execute. I’ll deal with tonight’s show.”

  Communicating through insults was standard operating procedure for all of them. Travis grinned. “Let me know if you decide to play the damsel in distress. I wanna make sure my video camera’s charged to get the footage.”

  “No cameras allowed at Scoundrels,” Emma said.

  Travis shrugged. “That’s the beauty of this mirror. You don’t have a clue what I’m doing behind it.”

  “Eww. Gross,” Emma called out as Travis headed back into his office and closed the door behind him, leaving them alone once more. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Jack scowled. “Meaning?”

  “Meaning there’s no way I’m going to dress up like some damn fool and scream my head off while you have your wicked pirate way with me.”

  “I see. But it’s okay for me to make an ass of myself in front of God and everybody.”

  Emma sighed. “That’s not what I’m saying. You don’t work here. You may come and have a drink occasionally and take in a show, but you don’t have to see these people day in and day out.”

  “So you’re embarrassed about acting in front of the employees? The regulars?” Jack didn’t buy it. Emma had played the lead role in the school’s musical during their senior year. She’d been a natural. In fact, for a while, Jack suspected her decision to move to L.A. had been based on a secret desire to be an actress.

  “I’m the manager here. Next to Travis, I’m the boss. I don’t think it would do my reputation any good if I got up onstage and pretended to be a submissive captive.”

  Jack struggled not to laugh. “Emma, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. Regardless of what you do on this stage, I find it hard to believe it will change the way your employees view you. You’re a force to be reckoned with and no one’s in danger of forgetting that.”

  “Ha ha. You know, I’m not that hard to work for.”

  She was a perfectionist with high standards and a work ethic that wouldn’t quit, both things that Jack respected. She also expected that same level of commitment in others, which he suspected was another reason the club was so successful. Those who could toe Emma’s line were driven, energetic, kindred spirits. Those who couldn’t hack it got out. As a result, Scoundrels had a staff most nightclubs would kill for.

  “What’s the real reason you don’t want to do it, Em? I’m not buying this losing face line.”

  She sighed. “I’m not sure I can pull off the role. You must admit, submissive isn’t very high on my list of personality traits.”

  This time Jack did laugh. Loud and long. “Jesus, Em. It’s not on the list at all.”

  She narrowed her eyes in annoyance.

  “It’s called acting. You’re familiar with the premise. You managed to play Maria from The Sound of Music. Let’s face it. You aren’t exactly nun material either, but you pulled that off.”

  “Fine. You want me to spell it out for you, Mr. Clueless? Then I will. We would have to imitate having sex onstage. You and me. Us,” she said, pointing at him and then herself for effect.

  “No shit. Isn’t that sort of the point of the whole little fantasy scenario?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You don’t think that would be a little awkward? No, strike that. You don’t think it would be a lot awkward?”

  He shook his head. The question didn’t require a moment of thought. “No. I don’t.”

  His confident answer took her aback and, if he wasn’t mistaken, seemed to hurt her feelings. “Oh.”

  What the fuck was going on inside her head? “We’re friends, Em. We have been forever. I’d feel more comfortable acting out a fantasy onstage with you than with a stranger.”

  She nodded, but he got a sense his words weren’t helping much. It was clear she was upset. However, this was Emma Potter. Nothing held her down for long. He watched her shake off whatever was bothering her in an instant. “Right. Well…”

  She fell silent for a moment and he remained quiet. Emma was a thinker and nothing he could say or do at this point would change the fact she’d make the decision to participate—or not—on her own.

  That didn’t stop him from hoping she’d agree. Even though they’d only played out a small part of the fantasy, he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t like the idea of dominating Emma…a lot.

  “Fine. I’ll do it. It’s a sold-out performance and there are going to be some big-name stars in the crowd. Canceling isn’t really an option I want to consider.”

  Her love of the club won out. Jack knew it was foolish to be irritated that she was only participating for work. They were friends. Nothing more. Still…

  “Great. Then I think we need to finish the rehearsal.” He was itching to get her beneath him.

  She gave him a rueful grin. “You sure you don’t want to improvise? Might come across as fresh and realistic if we aren’t too rehearsed.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You aren’t seriously telling me you let your actors go onstage without running through the act. I know you too well.”

  She shrugged, her silence giving her away.

  “We’re practicing and that’s all there is to it.”

  “Whatever. Let’s get this over with. I have a gazillion things to do before showtime.”

  He smiled. “You can’t rush art.”

  Emma snorted. “This isn’t art. It’s soft porn.”

  “Thought you just said it wasn’t a porno?”

  She shrugged. “You know what I mean.”

  Jack took Emma by the hand and led her to the ladder. The f
ake ship was two levels with a narrow balcony that served as the deck. Climbing down the ladder put them on the main stage, which, in this instance, was the pirate captain’s private quarters. There was a large bed positioned sideways at center stage—making it the most important prop and providing the entire audience a perfect view.

  Emma and Travis had worked hard on this particular set. Jack remembered stopping by many afternoons to lend his own advice and to watch as the ship was constructed. Typically, each fantasy show at Scoundrels ran for one month. Because it was unscripted, the show was never the same, featuring different actors each weekend for four weeks, who changed up the lines and actions to keep returning audience members entertained. The actors were given the bare-bones synopsis and told to interpret it however they wanted. So far, it seemed to be an award-winning combination, mainly because Emma only hired truly talented actors with strong improvisational abilities.

  This was the last week of the pirate fantasy and Jack knew Emma and Travis had spent a small fortune on marketing, as well as saving their best actors for last. Marshall and Jennifer had a huge fan following and their performance nights never failed to sell out.

  Jack gestured for Emma to climb down the ladder. He followed her. When they reached the main stage, he looked at the bed and felt the arousal he’d been holding at bay reappear. No point in trying to hide his emerging erection. She was going to feel it when he pressed against her. Not that he’d apologize for it. After all, the whole purpose of the show was to prompt sexual excitement. “Go lie on the bed.”

  Emma gave him a strange look. “What the hell for?”

  “I think we should practice the phony sex thing.”

  “What about the rest of the show? My heroine is supposed to fight tooth and nail. She’s not going to just hop in the bed and say ‘have at it’.”

  He laughed. Emma had more in common with the spunky heroine than she realized. They were both headstrong, stubborn women who wouldn’t bend to any man’s will. Jack’s cock thickened even more. Those attributes were hotter than hell.

  “I know you’re going to fight. I can handle that part. The tricky part is going to be the simulated sex. We have to make it look real.”

  “The lighting helps with that,” Emma said matter-of-factly. “We’ve got it set up so that certain areas of the bed are in shadow at the beginning. Once you start moving, there are a lot of flashing, colored lights that help enhance the scene until the climax.”

  Jack grinned and wiggled his eyebrows.

  She smirked and slapped him on the arm, well aware of the dual meaning of her words. “I mean the climax of the story, you dork.”

  “Get on the bed,” he repeated. He was pleased when she obeyed without kicking up a fuss. She really was determined to play this role.

  She was wearing a short skirt with a soft cotton T-shirt. Emma was beautiful in a simple, unassuming way. Her clothing was never ostentatious or flamboyant. The best word he could think of to describe her was classic. She had light brown hair with natural blonde highlights thanks to the California sun, big blue eyes and the slightest smattering of freckles on her nose.

  Tonight her outfit would consist of a blouse and long skirt. She’d shown him the costumes earlier. He was looking forward to ripping some of that clothing off her.

  He felt certain Emma never would have dialed his number if she’d realized exactly how much he wanted to do this. Last month, he and Travis had finally had a heart-to-heart and come clean about their unusual sexual desires. While they’d been best friends forever, the subject of what they liked in the bedroom—and who they’d like in their bed—had never come up. After consuming a bottle of Jim Beam while watching the fetish show from Travis’ lofty tower office, Jack had confessed why he’d sent his latest love interest walking.

  While it was little mystery to his friend that he was a serious dominant in the bedroom, there was one aspect of his nature he’d never shared with Travis. If he hadn’t been three sheets to the wind, he never would have revealed his penchant for sex with a twist at all. The truth was he’d harbored the secret desire to perform before an audience for a long time, but not as an actor. While Emma shone in the spotlight back at school, he’d been content to work in the wings. No, his need wasn’t to be yet another wannabe actor roaming Hollywood Boulevard.

  Jack liked sex in public. Not all the time, but more than he realized most women were comfortable with.

  Growing up, he’d felt like there was something wrong with him. In North Dakota, his desires would have gotten him drawn and quartered at dawn or committed to a mental hospital. However, in a city of sinners, he no longer felt it was wrong to experiment with that particular fetish and he’d indulged more than a few times with women who’d shared his interest—mainly actresses who thrived on attention. The problem was he’d yet to find a woman who could hold his attention outside the bedroom, unless he counted Emma. He’d never seriously pursued her sexually, though they’d flirted for years. There was a part of him that suspected she’d balk at his fetish. Besides, he valued their friendship too much to risk it.

  As far as Jack was concerned, performing onstage at Scandals was an acceptable form of sex in public, even if it was simulated. Nearly perfect. Nearly as exciting.

  Travis had understood and confided his own twisted fantasy. While Jack longed for the sexual spotlight, Travis liked to watch. He’d built his office and the club simply to fulfill his need for visual stimulation. Unfortunately, Travis hadn’t found anyone to share his peeping Tom pleasures with. Jack worried Travis would never find a companion. God knew he wouldn’t as long as he continued hiding behind the glass.

  Travis had given him shit for hiding his feelings for Emma, calling him to task for wasting so much time. Truth was Jack had taken special care to hide his true nature from her. His deception wasn’t based on shame or anything like that. It was simply something he’d never felt comfortable telling her. Emma was as straight as they came, which made her agreement to participate in this show all the more surprising.

  Emma climbed onto the bed, sitting in the center of the large mattress. Jack shook his head. “Lay down, Em. On your back.”

  She narrowed her eyes and he knew she was irritated at being commanded to do anything. “This is pointless.”

  “Not at all.” He walked to the bed and crawled on. He sensed Emma’s surprise when he continued moving, pushing her until she was caged beneath him. Once he had her where he wanted her, he froze, giving himself time to take stock of her response to his close proximity. Her breathing accelerated slightly and he could see the tiny pulse at her neck racing. Her nipples made an appearance, poking against the material of her T-shirt.

  “I’ve watched the fetish shows before,” he said. “And you’re right. The lighting and sound effects are deceptive. Always made me wonder how much was real and how much was make-believe.”

  She nodded and licked her lips. A nervous reaction? Or an invitation?

  Jack decided he didn’t give a shit. He’d waited a lifetime to kiss her. He bent down and placed his lips on hers.

  For a split second, Emma remained motionless. Then she responded. Reaching up, she wrapped her arms around his neck, accepting his kisses and his tongue as he invaded her mouth. He lowered until his forearms supported his upper body on the mattress. The switch in position pressed his body closer to hers, her breasts crushed against his chest.

  Jack deepened the kiss, unwilling to break the spell. He’d never consciously let himself imagine kissing Emma, knowing he’d want it too bad. Now that his lips were on hers, he kicked himself for being a fool. Suddenly, all the years they’d spent floundering in mere friendship seemed like a huge waste of time.

  Her tongue brushed his and he groaned. Lowering his waist, he ground his erection against Emma, letting her feel his arousal, his need.

  Her response shook him to his core.

  Reaching down, she lifted her skirt so she could raise her legs to wrap them around his waist. He pressed his
cock against her panty-covered pussy, the heat he found there undeniable even through the denim of his jeans.

  He shifted slightly, humping against her until she was panting. Jack wondered if he could bring her to orgasm with the simple motion and increased his speed. He wanted to see her come more than he wanted his next breath.

  A slight shuffling sound from the landing above momentarily caught his attention but Jack blocked it out, not caring if Travis watched. The idea that his friend might be on the landing ramped up his efforts. He lifted his lips from Emma’s and moved away slightly. Her face was flushed, her eyes hungry. She blinked rapidly, confused by his sudden departure.

  “I want to watch you come.”

  She shook her head, no doubt trying to regain her wits. He refused to let her overanalyze his request.

  “I need to know what it looks like.”

  He reached down and shoved the thin material of her panties aside. Before Emma could protest, he pushed two fingers into her wet heat. Emma lurched beneath him and he figured out exactly how close she was to climaxing. Her pussy walls contracted around his fingers and, for the first time, he realized he was in danger of blowing too. Christ, he hadn’t come in his pants from simple foreplay since he was a teenager. Right now that reaction seemed like a foregone conclusion.

  “God,” Emma cried. “Jack, please.”

  He increased the speed and pressure of his thrusting fingers, relishing the tightness of Emma’s sheath. She was trembling as her hips writhed beneath him. She appeared to be oblivious to everything except his fingers in her body, driving her higher, harder.

  “Goddamn it, Em. Come, baby. Let me feel your pretty pussy squeeze my fingers. Then think about what it’s going to feel like when I fill you with my hard cock.”

  His words were the final nail in the coffin. Emma screamed her release. Jack gritted his teeth against the desire to join her in that bliss, but the idea of spending the rest of the afternoon in sticky jeans held him back—just barely.