If You Dare: An Erotic Sequel

Your Joy Is My Low

You regretted agreeing to Domino's mission the moment you stepped foot inside the dressing room situated behind the stage.

When he had said you would go undercover as a dancer, you'd had some inkling of what he was referring to, but never this – a combination of a high-end strip club and a burlesque show.

A few days ago, you had worried more about your inability to dance, but now...

A row of lit, oval vanity mirrors lined the far wall. Mingled scents of body lotion and perfume lingered in the air. The vast dressing room was dotted with some of New York City's most beautiful women in various stages of undress. Women with legs as high as your shoulders slathered lotion over their toned limbs, the light playing off their bronzed breasts like two round ornaments. As you settled into a chair before your own mirror, a sea of lace, silk, mesh, and sequined fishnet winked back at you.

Jealousy and unease simmered in the pit of your stomach.

Domino had used his connection with the nightclub's owner to land you a night on the stage as one of the many desirable performers. Had Domino attended this very nightclub in the past? If not before meeting you, then after? You stared at your reflection in the mirror, at the unrecognizable woman wearing the ice blue, sharply angled wig with the fringe concealing your forehead. You didn't want Domino in this club tonight. You didn't want him potentially ogling other women. You had never felt such a surge of insecurity in the time you had spent with him. Not until this very moment.

And, right when you thought you'd hit rock bottom, the situation got even worse.

As you fastened the front closure of your fake diamond-encrusted bra with the rows of sequins and glittering silver jewels, a woman in a mesh neon green bodysuit, silver metallic wig, and chunky white heels tottered into the dressing room, music pulsing through the thick concrete walls.

"Domino is in the building, ladies!" she hollered over the animated chatter. "I repeat, Domino is in the building!"

The room dissolved into hushed, excited whispers, but the entire room fell silent as the bathroom door flung open and a tall, statuesque woman with alabaster skin and a curtain of gleaming black hair emerged, a black silk robe hanging open at her shoulders to reveal every luscious curve. You swallowed hard at the sight of her heavily-lidded gaze and full, dark red lips.

"Did you say Domino?" she murmured huskily, eyes narrowed to slits.

It was in that moment you realized there were parts of Domino's past that were a mystery to you. This knowledge festered in your heart, eating away at all the happy memories you shared with your diabolical lover.

~

You were lucky to have Imogene and Marina there with you in the dressing room; they were there to hook up your microphone and earpiece so you could communicate with Domino. Your thoughts weren't as focused as they should be, however. The words the other women had spoken about your... what did you even call him? Long-term boyfriend? Partner? You had never questioned Domino's sexual activity prior to meeting you. Based on his writings as Dominic Travers, you had naturally assumed he was a virgin when he seduced you, even though his behavior attested to a level of confidence and experience that would have floored any woman. Had you been in denial all this time, eager to believe you were the only woman who had ever claimed him?

Within seconds, your illusion had been shattered. Suddenly, you had competition and you didn't like it one bit.

Imogene squeezed your shoulder as Marina combed through the blue strands of your wig.

"Are you okay?" she whispered. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"I need someone to talk to," you whispered, face splotchy from the effort to hold back tears. "I feel like I'm dying inside."