Pier Lights Read Online Free PDF Page A

and sensual, as sensual as Lina’s
movements.
    The skirt slipped from around her waist.
Unlike most of the girls who wore skimpy bikini bottoms, Lina wore
what looked like the new swim bottoms, short skin-tight shorts. She
played with the band by running fingers along the top edge, pulled
them down only enough to tease. Screeches from the audience told
her to take more off. She could only take so much more off. Most of
the girls took off their tops. Bottoms had to stay on. Dio was just
as glad. He preferred a little something left to the imagination,
and he didn’t want to see quite that much of his coworkers. Breasts
were good, though. He hoped she would take off the top.
    But she ended the song still covered. And
they yelled for her anyway.
    Dio had planned to introduce himself when
she was done, but he changed his mind. Not tonight. He was too
turned on by her, and he had to be able to perform later.
     

 
     
     
    ~4~
     
     
    Caroline was ready for a night off by
Tuesday. Saturday and Sunday, she’d left before the end, although
she wanted to see the closer. She found the experience more
exhausting than she expected.
    And she wanted to hit the beach, to
unwind.
    Okay, she might as well be honest with
herself. She’d wanted to catch her swordsman if he was still there.
He hadn’t been. Caroline tried to convince herself she wasn’t
really as disappointed as she felt she was. It was just a guy with
a sword. So what? Honestly, she could be so childish at times.
    Monday night, last night – had it only just
been last night? – she stayed until the end. Again she was
disappointed. The older lady in dark red closed on Monday. Caroline
wasn’t too impressed. She was flirty. She was very flirty, and very
open. And her breasts were still in good shape for her age, not too
saggy, no stretch marks, at least not apparent from stage. But she
was a bad dancer.
    Of course, she was a stripper, not a dancer.
They weren’t the same. Similar. Not the same.
    With a sigh, Caroline spread her towel on
the sand and slipped out of her sarong. She’d worn a very small
bikini this time, and she relished the way men nearby turned to
leer. She made a show of it; she realized she already enjoyed
putting on a show with her body, allowing appreciation of what
she’d worked so hard for so many years to have. Slowly, she took
the elastic band off her wrist and bent her head back slightly to
gather her medium length boring colored hair and twirled it into a
ponytail high on her head. Then she tossed her head so it swished
like a horse’s mane and, again slowly, settled on her towel, on her
back, her feet propped flat-footed and her knees up and parted,
slightly, not vulgar. Dark sunglasses shielded her eyes from the
glaring sun. It would lower soon. She would enjoy the heat for a
while, take a long swim, then return to lie on her front and leave
her barely covered rear to catch whatever rays were left for the
day. It was time for a tan. Ballerinas didn’t have tans, but
strippers did.
    As dark descended, Caroline would sip at her
thermos of red wine that would look only like she was drinking
water, and munch on the few things she’d thrown in her little
cooler. Fresh cut veggies. Rolled up ham and cheese. Crackers. And
she’d wait for a glimpse of him.
     
    Dio looked forward to being at work.
    He worked Saturday and Sunday nights, had
Monday off, and worked Tuesday. Then not again until Saturday. Most
often he loved Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday when he could go to
bed early and recover from the rest of the week. This week, he
resented not being there, not being able to see her. The new girl.
He’d missed her last night. He looked forward to her tonight.
    Sandy slapped his rear as she walked past.
“Gonna come home with me tonight?”
    “Same answer as last time.”
    “Yeah, yeah, no coworkers. Don’t know why,
though. Think I can’t be as good as some bimbo you take home after
she sticks money down your pants? I can do better