Not This Time

Jon: February 3, 1986

     I watched the woman onstage with a blank expression. It wasn't that she wasn't attractive, but my mind was wandering. It was the anniversary of the day Dorothea left me. Richie assumed I needed cheering up, but after Nina so insistently made me vent about Dotty, I really didn't. Even so, Richie's idea of cheering me up was not exactly what I would have chosen. Not that a night at the strip club was a bad thing, but it was really the last place you wanted to find yourself when you couldn't stop thinking about the women you have feelings for. It's like sitting in a strip club with your mom; you couldn't possibly enjoy it.
     Richie was seated next to me, staring up at the woman admiringly. I watched her too, but more so because she kind of reminded me of Nina, despite the mask she was wearing. It was her hair. It was tied up in the same sort of twisty half do that Nina had been wearing when she'd met me for lunch. Maybe I was imagining it; all those hairstyles looked the same anyway.
     "Hey, man," Richie said, not taking his eyes from the woman as he spoke. I glanced over at my friend for a moment before looking back up at the dancer. "Who was that chick you were hanging out with earlier?"
     I looked back over at him again. He must have spotted me and Nina leaving for lunch together. I was just about to say that it was the sound girl from first tour, but then I stopped, remembering Richie's words from the first time I'd even pointed her out to him.
...and she's hot. If you're not going to, I will.
     Memories of Richie and Diane together passed through my mind, but I looked away before they could show on my face. I looked back up at the stripper and didn't answer my friend. I didn't want to tell him it was Nina. I knew it was selfish, but I didn't want to share her the way Diane had volunteered herself.
     The dancer smiled at me and I smiled back a little. I could see Richie look over at me. He followed my gaze and saw the woman mouth something to me. His eyes grew wide and he gaped at me.
     "You mean..?" Richie asked, nodding a little toward the stage. He glanced between me and the woman dancing in front of us. I didn't say yes, but I didn't say no either. I just stared at the woman. She raised an eyebrow at me and bit her lip. I smiled more, knowing that Richie was watching the whole exchange.
     The woman glanced over her shoulder, again, directly at me as she walked away down the stage toward some other customers. Richie smacked my arm, bringing my attention back to him. He grinned and looked past me at the dancer.
     "Her?" Richie hissed, trying to keep his disbelieving excitement under control. He gaped at me as I, once more, said nothing. I smirked and looked away, implying that it was true. Richie's grin grew and he nodded, appearing impressed. "Way to go. And here I was thinking you were still hung up on Dotty."
     I frowned back at him. I wasn't hung up. He was still looking past me. I followed his gaze to find the dancer coming off the stage and waltzing through the tables on customer-level. I swallowed and looked away before she looked our way.
     "What's her name?" Richie asked me, finally looking back at me.
     I blinked. Her name? Oh shit. I hadn't thought about that. I tried not to panic as my lie took that unanticipated turn. I closed my eyes and tried to think of something to cover the fact that I didn't know the dancer's given name. I couldn't even remember her stage name.
     "Jon?" Richie muttered.
     I opened my eyes and looked over at him with a smirk. "She made me promise not to tell," I lied. I inwardly congratulated myself for coming up with something that sounded semi-believable. Richie stared at me with an expression of admiration.
     "Is she good?" he asked in a lowered voice, leaning toward me. I smirked and rolled my eyes. He would ask about the sex. That was Richie. With a glance back in the dancer's direction, I cleared my throat and nodded inconspicuously. Richie grinned, then he shook his head. "Nah, you're lying," he snickered, "You still want Dotty, I know it. You wouldn't give her up that easy."
     I frowned at him again. "You don't know shit about me and Dotty," I told him, "It's over with her. Why are she and I the only ones who get that?"
     "What's that supposed to mean?" Richie chuckled, picking up his beer from where it sat on the table in front of him and bringing it to his lips for a drink. I shrugged and shook my head. I shouldn't have said that. It was just annoying. Nina seemed to think that Dotty and I were destined to be together. My whole band seemed to assume that I wasn't over her. It was ridiculous.
     A bottle of champagne landed with a solid thunk on the table in front of me. I didn't have to look up to know that it was the dancer we'd been talking about. I could see her manicured fingers wrapped around the neck of the bottle. Nevertheless, I looked up and smiled at her.
     "Have some champagne with me, mon cher?" the woman asked in a French accent, "Just us?" Holy shit, she was French! Her voice was soft and seductive, but she smiled sweetly. I glanced over at Richie and raised an eyebrow.
     "Like I'd turn you down for this punk," I replied with a smirk. I didn't take my eyes off of her as I rose from my seat. The dancer smiled more and took my hand. She and I both glanced at Richie as we passed him. He was watching us in astonishment. She led me away toward a private room and I didn't look back at my friend once.
     I followed her into a small room that was furnished with a love seat and a couple of arm chairs with a small side table between them. In the opposite corner was a small counter with a cabinet underneath and a CD player on top. She ignored me as I closed the door and leaned on it. I watched her step over to the counter and retrieve two champagne flutes. She put on some music, but left the volume low. When she turned back to me, she had the flutes in one hand and the bottle in the other. She nodded to the couch and smiled.
     "What's your name?" she asked as she set the glasses down and popped open the champagne bottle. I joined her by the couch, but sank into one of the arm chairs instead. I could hear Dotty's voice in my head grumbling about strippers. I closed my eyes and shook my head as if that would help, but with my eyes closed, I could see Dotty rolling hers.
     "Jon," I finally answered, opening my eyes and forcing myself to stay in the current situation. I let my gaze drift over her. She didn't have much on after her performance, but everything she did have on was black. Underneath her sheer black nighty, I could see a minimal, black bra and panty set. It all went together so well with the black silk masquerade mask that she wore. The only splash of color was her cherry red lipstick and pretty blue eyes. "Tell me yours again," I prompted as she handed me a glass of champagne.
     She smiled. "Mystique," she answered simply. The name wasn't anything special, but her accent made is sound magical. She brought her own glass up to her lips and took a sip. She lowered herself onto the couch gracefully, never taking her eyes off me.
     "Why me?" I asked. She still stared at me over the rim of her champagne flute. This gesture reminded me of Nina, who liked to hide behind glasses too. Mystique's slight giggle brought my attention back to her in a hurry, though.
     She lowered her glass as I brought mine up to take a sip. "Three reasons," she told me with a smirk, "Un. You didn't seem interested, and I like a challenge." She paused watching me set my glass on the side table, "Deux. I heard you talking to your friend. You let him think some other girl was me." She smiled and giggled, "Is she pretty as me?"
     I tried not to react to her words, but it was too late. An image of Nina in a skimpy outfit like what Mystique had on appeared in my head, though without the mask. I blinked and tried to imagine her with it, but whenever I did, the woman in my mind didn't come across as Nina, only Mystique.
     "Mon ami?" Mystique prompted, pulling me out of my imaginings. She gave me a knowing smile. "Who is she?"
     I shook my head and reached for my champagne glass. "Nobody of consequence," I mumbled before draining the flute. When I set the empty glass back down on the table, Mystique was staring at me with a displeased expression.
     "She is someone you like," Mystique guessed, rising from her seat to pour some more champagne into my glass. I raised an eyebrow as I watched her do this. What right did she have to be asking me these things? We weren't friends; we weren't even acquaintances. "Yes?" She gave me a tempting little smile, holding out my glass. Damn, she was good.
     "The two of you look just alike," I replied, ignoring her later question and taking the glass from her. She tapped her glass against mine and sat on the arm of my chair casually. She took a sip of her drink with a knowing smirk.
     "I think you do like her," she teased, setting her glass down. I watched as she slipped off the arm of the chair and into my lap. She wasn't as heavy as I'd expected, but I was still very aware of her weight. She leaned close. "You can pretend I'm her," she whispered.
     Involuntarily, I pictured Mystique taking off her mask to reveal that she really was Nina. I looked away and drained my champagne glass again. I knew that wasn't realistic, but something about it was still really hot. I closed my eyes, reminding myself that Nina was too shy about her sex appeal to strut around onstage with barely anything on.
     The Stroke. That bass riff in the hook and Nina's dance move that went with it played in my head. I shook my head a little, trying to shake the thought out. I was horny enough with this woman sitting on my lap, I didn't need Nina's help.
     "What was three?" I asked her, looking back at her as I put my glass down on the table as well.
     Mystique pulled away from me a little. "Trois?
     "You said there were three reasons," I reminded her. She grinned and laughed a little.
     "Oh," she giggled, "Because you are gorgeous, mon ami. Very handsome." She leaned in close to me again and whispered, "And sometimes I just like handsome men."
     I licked my lips, but my eyes were drawn to the hidden intricacies of her mask. Little swirly lines and sparkles decorated the silk. They could only be seen if one was as close as I was. The darkness of her mask brought attention to her eyes, which were studying me. In my mind, I could see Dorothea shaking her head at me, rolling her eyes.
     Without warning, Mystique leaned away and stood. She picked up her glass and took a sip of her champagne before returning the glass to the side table. I watched her without a word as she poured more champagne into both our glasses and then pulled her sheer nightie over her head. She bent over in front of me, lacing her fingers together and resting an elbow on each arm of the chair, effectively trapping me in.
     "Do you want a dance, mon ami?" she asked very bluntly. Her accent did only so much to make up for the directness of the question. I licked my lips again and picked up my glass of champagne. God, yes, I wanted one; if she wasn't enough to turn a man on, I don't know what was. I stared at the faint golden color of the drink, watching the bubbles float to the top and fizzle away. I knew, however, that if I did let her do it, I'd unintentionally imagine her as Nina and then I'd never be able to look at Nina the same way again.
     Nina was important to me. "I'm already paying for the bottle," I excused, holding up the bubbling champagne flute, "I don't have enough cash on me for a private dance too." It was quick thinking, smooth. Mystique straightened and put her hands on her hips.
     "What if that wasn't a problem?" she suggested as I took a sip of champagne. She straddled my legs, sitting harmlessly on my knees, and leaned in, resuming her position with her elbows on the chair arms, fingers laced under her chin elegantly. "What if I just want to?"
     I set my glass down on the table. "Are you allowed to do that?" I asked.
     She smiled a little. "Who cares?"
     I stared at her. She didn't budge, her smile didn't falter. She was frustrating me. Or maybe Nina was. Maybe I was just frustrating myself, overthinking it. It was just a lap dance, right? And its not like I didn't want Nina already, so would it really change how I saw her? I bit my lip and Mystique smirked. She unlaced her fingers and traced one along my collarbone, then my jaw.
     "You want me to," she said.
     Unsure if it was question or not and unable to deny her again, I nodded. She smiled and climbed onto the chair with me. I looked up at her at first, but then let my eyes trail down her body. She moved her hips against mine and my eyes fell closed as my head fell back against the back of the chair. I kept my hands on the arms of the chair as she rubbed against me.
     With my eyes closed, it wasn't Nina who came to mind, but Dotty. All the nights she'd ever made me feel good piled on top of each other in my head. I didn't want to miss her, but I did. I opened my eyes when Mystique turned and started dancing that way. I could feel her ass against my crotch. I bit my lip and closed my eyes again.
     "What's her name?" Mystique whispered. She brought a hand up to trace her fingers along my neck, leaning her head against my shoulder as she danced between my legs. She was talking about Nina, and I knew that, but I was still thinking about Dotty. I leaned my head back and exhaled a name, but I honestly don't know which one. Nina or Dotty.