Angel watched Amber fawn over the dancers on the floor below a few moments; his fingers stroked his thin moustache and then he cocked his head to the right slightly. His eyes flowed up Amber’s legs to her mini skirt’s hem and continued up her thighs as she leaned farther out to look at the crowd. Angel’s eyes traveled up her slim body to where her t-shirt fitted tightly over her pert breasts. He took another long sip of his beer.

Chapter 8

Amber lifted a slim leg to the little bench in front of her and unzipped the high-heeled boot that came past her knee to mid-thigh. She repeated the process and placed the sexy black vinyl cuissardes under her makeup table. She reached behind her and unbuttoned the sheer bodysuit, pushed it off her arms and down to her tiny waist. She hooked her thumbs on the material and pushed the form-fitting suit down her legs to the floor, leaving on her skin colored gaff to conceal and cover her. Amber stepped out of the black lace puddle when she heard a familiar voice.

“Amber you were great tonight. I’ve got some…”

“Thanks Janice. Could you please put them over there with the rest of the flowers?” the petite female impersonator asked. Bending to pick up her costume, she turned to face her mentor.

Amber cried out in embarrassment and covered her budding breasts with her dance costume.

Along with Amber’s face, her entire body flushed red as she stood in front of her friend/mentor and the stern Captain Logan. The tall Army Captain’s eyes traveled up and down the dancer’s body appraisingly and said nothing.

Major Brewer apologized for catching Amber by surprise. Quickly she took a short, red kimono robe hanging on a nearby hook and handed it to the humiliated boy-girl.

The Major ordered and helped the Captain to spin around to allow Amber to get dressed. Self-consciously Amber hurriedly put on the silk robe and stepped into a pair of high heels and kept watch to see that Captain Logan did not look.

The hormones implanted in Amber's arm several months ago were supposed to release slowly over a period of five years giving her softer skin and thicker hair. The doctor had explained that Amber’s nipples would likely be tender and her breasts might become a source of slight discomfort. But she shouldn't expect any growth. However, the implant malfunctioned and was releasing a higher hormone dosage than planned and Amber’s body was responding. Her hips widened slightly, her nipples enlarged, and her breasts started to develop.

“Okay, you can turn around now,” Amber said in a low embarrassed tone as she finished tying the kimono’s sash. She flipped her hair from her face and busied herself at her dressing table but the young performer snuck a peek at the handsome Army officer’s reflection in the table’s mirror to see if he was watching her. She noted how the Captain's muscular body seemed to stretch his polo shirt and dark slacks.

“I brought someone to see you. You remember Captain Logan. We wanted to check on you and to see if you’ve been contacted yet by your admirer,” Janice explained.

“Yes, I remember the Captain. No, no one has tried to contact me as of yet. Do you think tonight's flower basket is from Corazon?”

The Major looked at her CID counterpart and replied “No, it is not in his usual MO. He usually makes face-to-face contact with the performer after the show and…” The officer was interrupted by her cell phone’s ring, held up a finger and spoke. “Hello…what? No, I can’t hear you. I am not getting a good reception…just a sec.” Turning to the pair, she said, “I am going outside to take this call. It is Colonel Washington.”

After the Major stepped outside, Amber turned to the table and began to remove the heavy stage makeup. Captain Logan nonchalantly examined the dressing room paraphernalia and his eyes eventually drifted back to the boy-girl in front of him. He traveled up her smooth, tanned legs, over her slim body, and across her shoulders with a man’s eye and caught her looking at him in the mirror. She lowered her eyes, raised them slowly, and offered the rugged officer a smoky stare.

Clearing his throat, he nodded and said, “Well, you’ve changed a bit since we’ve last seen each other. You look very nice.”

“Thanks. Janice…uh…Major Brewer said I haven’t changed that much except around the breasts and hips a little.” Wiping off the last of her makeup, she turned around to face Captain Logan. Her kimono sash had accidentally loosened, revealing her flat tummy and a beginning bit of cleavage.

When the distinctive click announced the turning of the doorknob, Amber turned and retied her robe. Major Brewer stepped into the room and said, “The Colonel stated CIA has confirmed Corazon is in the States and probably here. Amber you need to be ready from now on. If he has seen the show, he may approach you.” She looked at Amber with genuine concern and asked, “You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.”

The blonde officer hugged her protégé. “Be Careful. You have your cell phone? Is my number programmed?”

“Yes, right here.” Amber reached in her purse and showed it to the Major.

“Okay, we'll see you at the apartment. Logan, let’s go and leave her alone. Bye hon.”

“Bye,” said the female impersonator and waived at the pair, biting her bottom lip.

Two hours later, Amber stepped from under the pastel purple awning emblazoned with “Club Peacock” in sparkling silver and walked down the sidewalk. Well into the early morning, the South Beach strip was crowded with tourists and hard-bodied locals. She passed through the crowd, made her way between the parked cars and into the streets’ slow traffic.

While she wove through the upscale cruisers, inebriated frat boys shouted offers from a Saab convertible. She smiled, blew a kiss and waved which launched them into howls of laughter. She and the car’s occupants knew neither was really interested, only that it was Saturday night and the festive mood was infectious. Amber reached the far side of the street without further incident and headed toward the brightly lit lot where her car was parked. Just before she reached her car, a voice with a heavy Latino accent called to her. She ignored the comment and reached into her purse for her keys. She turned to face the man who called to her.

“Chica, Chica!”

The petite impersonator quickly examined the two Latino men walking towards her. The first was short, no taller than she was, 5 foot 4 inches; a little overweight - around 175 pounds; coal black hair cropped short, dark brown eyes, and of Latin American Indian descent. He was dressed in faded blue jeans, cowboy boots and a white button down shirt opened to display a large, expensive gold chain. The second Latino had the same dark eyes, hair, but had a long mustache and was nearly 6 feet tall and weighed as much as his companion and Amber combined. “Moustache”, as Amber named him, stopped several feet behind and off to the left of the first Latino and scanned the area.

“Yeah?”

“Que pasa chica?” the first said in Spanish with a South American accent.

“Nada. Y tu?” Amber replied in Spanish as she placed a hand on one hip, readjusted her purse strap with the other and kept “Moustache” in her peripheral vision.

“Good. I saw you in the show. You were very good.”

“Thanks. I am glad you liked it. I’ve got to go. See ya.” She said with a flick of her hand and started toward her car.

“Wait, where are you going?”

“Nowhere special. Home, then to bed.” She shrugged her shoulders and opened the car door.

“Care for some company tonight?”

Amber tossed her purse on the front seat of the car and faced the Latino with a hesitant look. She pushed her dark hair over her ears and leaned against the car in what she hoped was a sexy pose. She scanned the Latino up and down, laughed lightly and bit her lower lip. “Oh Chico, you’re being bad. We just met.”

He hooked his thumbs in his jeans and stared Amber in the eyes. “Let’s start with drinks.”

“Okay. We’ll start with drinks. Where do you want to go? I will follow you in my car.”

“I have a nice car. Manuel can drive us to a good nightclub,” he said holding out one hand that had a large diamond ring.

Amber smiled at the effort of gallantry, reached in her car, grabbed her purse and shut the door. She reached out to take the Latino’s hand and stopped. “Just a sec…I need to call my roommate to let her know I may not be home tonight,” she said and winked.

The boy-girl took out her cell phone and dialed the preset number. The phone rang once, twice, and then it picked up. Before anyone could answer, Amber said aloud, “Drat, I got her answering machine.” After she announced the code phrase, she continued. “Hiya Janice. It’s me Amber. I met a real nice guy and I am gonna go out for a drink or two. I’ll give you a call later and let you know I am okay. I will leave my cell on if you want to call me.”

She snapped her cell phone shut and stepped up to her date and took his hand. They followed Moustache around the building and to a blue Lotus sports car. Moustache walked to the driver’s side while her date sat in the passenger seat and motioned for her to sit on his lap. She grinned and sat down lightly on his lap, her mini skirt riding up her thighs. The car pulled out into the traffic and sped quickly away.

“I know his name,” Amber pointed to Manuel “but what is yours?”

“You can call me Angel.”

Amber smiled at the South American Indian and wiggled deeper into his lap, feeling his rock hard cock in his jeans.

The big Latino Amber nicknamed “Moustache” drove the Lotus expertly through the busy South Beach late night traffic and in minutes the trio arrived at a club that throbbed with a hot salsa beat. Club Fiesta was the hottest salsa club in Miami where celebrities and the wealthy partied Manuel handed over the Lotus’ keys to a valet and they stepped around the crowd of paparazzi trying to get photos of a drunken TV star. Angel waved and spoke to the doorman, who nodded in recognition and their group was ushered into the club at once. The red and blue neon lit dance floor was alive with sexily dressed women and handsome men who moved quickly and expertly to loud Latin music. Angel took Amber by the hand and wove his way to the back of the club and to the stairway that led into the VIP area, followed by Manuel. At the bottom of the stairs, a blonde haired bouncer in a shirt that read “Club Fiesta STAFF” held up his hand and announced the area was reserved for a private party. Angel smiled, nodded and explained, “I know seá±or, I am the private party.”

The bouncer glanced at the dress of the two, smiled politely and nodded, “Sure amigo. I am sorry, but this section is closed.”

“You do not understand. I held…reserved this for me and the senorita.” He nodded at Amber. “I am Angel Corazon.”

The bouncer nodded at the short Latin Indian and didn’t hide the fact he wasn’t impressed. The blonde giant held up a finger. “Just a moment, senor.”

Amber estimated the bouncer to be about 25 years old six foot six and 190 lbs of hard muscle. He wore a silver watch on his left hand and a Bluetooth in his right ear, which probably meant he was right handed. He kept his feet shoulder width apart and his eyes on all them, with special attention to Manuel. The bouncer held up two fingers to the earpiece and spoke quickly to an unseen party. He nodded several times and then spoke, “My apologies, Seá±or Corazon. I only recently joined the staff at Club Fiesta and didn’t recognize you. Your party is expected.” He stepped aside to let them up the stairs.

Manuel touched Angel on the arm and went ahead up the stairs into the section. He stopped and scanned the VIP section, once, twice, three times. Satisfied no danger was present, the big Latino turned and motioned for Angel and Amber to come up. A long, plush leather bench lined the wall with tables spaced every few feet. Opposite the bench and tables was a balcony with a brass railing overlooking the dance floor, while bright, multi colored neon lights ran across the ceiling. Angel led Amber to the couch and sat down, pulling her down next to him.

“So your name is Am-ber?” He asked in broken English, his brown eyes looking directly into her blue eyes.

“Yes.” She smiled and leaned closely to him to be heard over the music. “Amber Kain.”

“How much…you been dancing…at the club?” he asked haltingly. “I don’t…ah…remember you from my last visit there.”

Switching to Spanish, Amber said, “Not long, two weeks. I was working up in the Midwest but I got a call to come down here and perform. This is my first time in South Beach.”

“Midwest? Is that another club?”

Amber giggled and shook her head no. “Oh no, it is the states in the middle of the country. You know… Illinois, Kansas, Missouri, that area.”

“Oh…” He nodded. “I am not good with all the United States. I mostly come to Florida and sometimes to California or Arizona. Have you been to either?”

“Not yet. Someday, I want to see California. Do you…”

Amber was interrupted by a pretty but pudgy Latina, who asked Angel what he would like to drink. “Dos XX for me and Am-ber will have…” He looked over to Amber.

“A Gibson.” She smiled at him. The waitress nodded, placed two napkins on the table, turned and left.

“What is a Gib-son?” The Latino asked.

“It is a Martini with an onion, instead of an olive. The onion takes out some of the bite. If you want, I will let you have a taste of mine.”

“You are going to eat the onion?”

Amber laughed lightly, flipped her hair with a free hand and shook her head no. She said she wasn’t going to eat the onion. Moving closer to him, she smiled as she placed a hand on his thigh. Then she pointed at Manuel, next to the stairway, and asked why the waitress didn’t get his drink order. Angel glanced at the big South American and shrugged his shoulders.

“You go to California often? Do you have family there?”

“No. I do not have any family there or in Columbia.”

“You are from Columbia?” She found herself shouting since the music ended abruptly. “Sorry.” She glanced down embarrassed, rose from the couch and walked to the balcony.

“Yes, Bogotá¡.”

While Amber admired the pulsing lights, the beautiful people and the salsa rhythms from the balcony, she didn’t see the waitress appear again with their drinks. Angel walked over and handed Amber the Gibson. Amber mouthed "gracias" just before her glass and his bottle clinked together. Angel took a long sip of beer, set the bottle down on the table and then leaned forward against the brass railing. Amber winked at him and took a sip of her cocktail.

“This is a great place. I love the music,” she shouted en espaá±ol. She turned to look across the crowd and watched the couples move on the dance floor. Most of the men dressed darkly but the women wore brightly colored dresses. The pairs clung against each other, then parted, spun, and slipped smoothly back into each other’s arms to the music’s rhythm. “They can really Salsa!” Amber leaned over the rail to look at the dancers, when a woman in the corner caught her eye. Tall and dusky, the woman wore a dress that swirled like liquid gold around her and she moved as though the music was alive in her. She was amazing.

Angel watched Amber fawn over the dancers on the floor below a few moments; his fingers stroked his thin moustache and then he cocked his head to the right slightly. His eyes flowed up Amber’s legs to her mini skirt’s hem and continued up her thighs as she leaned farther out to look at the crowd. Angel’s eyes traveled up her slim body to where her t-shirt fitted tightly over her pert breasts. He took another long sip of his beer.

Amber turned and asked. “Do you Salsa?”

“No. I do not dance.”

“Oh, I bet you do.” She smiled and held her hands out.

“No.”

“All Colombians know how to Salsa.”

Her tongue snaked out and touched the side of her upper lip. She sauntered over to him, took the beer bottle from him and pulled the Latin Indian from the second floor railing to the center of the room. She placed his left hand on the small of her back and held the other up, then pushed her slim body against his. She looked into his brown eyes and stepped slightly back twice and he followed; she moved forward twice and he quickly retreated. She raised their hands and spun once underneath them then moved back into his arms. She grinned and repeated the steps. Amber saw Angel smile for the first time that night. They danced to the pounding Latin rhythm. He stepped between her legs and they spun as a couple. He improvised slightly and moved them around the room. The song ended much too quickly and she found herself out of breath.

The music began again but had changed tempo and a much slower and sexier song now played. His left hand slid down from the small of her back onto her ass, and he brought her closer to him. She thought her small breasts would come out of her white tank top as he crushed them against his chest. She tried to catch her breath as she felt his strong arms holding her. Amber’s lips parted and gasped as he began to move his hips to the music. It was unmistakable…she could feel his hard cock against her. Angel stopped and looked at her. Amber closed her eyes, and let him kiss her. The kiss lasted for seconds, while Amber’s heart pounded in her chest. She felt like the room began to spin about her. She stepped back and he led her by the hand to the couch. He sat down and pulled her down to sit across his lap. He kissed her again and again; his strong arms pressed her body against his. Her breath quickened and her heart beat wildly.

“I need you, chica.”

“I…ah…I…don’t…ah know…ah…you…”

“I have to have you…you can’t leave me…not like this!” He continued to kiss and grind against Amber.

“No…we just met…I mean…” She tried to pull away.

“Yes…you want it as bad…” His eyes bore into her as he reached between her thighs.

“No.” She pushed off from his lap as she tried to stand up, frantically shoving his hands away from her. Struggling to free herself, her entire body was flushed with heat.

“Come here…girl.” He grabbed her hand and a bare thigh.

“No!” She slapped him across the face with her free hand and pulled away from his grasp. She turned and sprinted toward the steps. “Moustache” stood at the top of the stairs and watched her, his arms at his side. “Move!” Amber shouted and pushed against Manuel; he sidestepped and let her by. She stumbled down the steps and pushed her way through the crowd, out into the street. Amber broke into a sweat. It was hotter outside than earlier this evening. A Diamond cab was just dropping off a group of partiers at the club; she fell into it and told the driver her address. She found it hard to focus on the club’s doors to see if anyone followed but was reassured when no one did. After the cab had driven a few blocks, she sighed, placed her hands over her eyes, and tried to stifle a cry.

“Everything okay?” the driver asked.

“Yeah…great.” She sniffed and wiped a few tears away.

“Well, it will be better in the morning…What the hell!” The driver braked the cab hard, veered to the right, and screeched to a halt.

Amber slammed into the front seat from the sudden stop. Dazed, she reached for the mace in her purse before she realized she had left her purse in the club. The rear floor of the cab opened and a large hand pulled her out and into the street. The streetlights momentarily blinded her. She tensed and tried to ball her fists, waiting for an opportunity.

“Easy cabbie. Here’s your fare.” Amber heard a familiar voice somewhere.

“Listen, I don’t want no trouble and neither does the girl.” The cab driver mumbled and opened his door.

“It’s alright. Get back in the cab,” the voice said.

“Oh…I see. Sorry. Okay…” the cabbie said.

Amber, still dazed from the sudden stop and blinded from the bright streetlights, heard the car’s door slam and the cab’s engine fade down the street.

“Come on get into the car.”

“I…don’t…what…are you…doing…” She stammered, feeling weak and nauseous.

“Are you alright?”

Amber looked at the voice but couldn’t focus her eyes. “Yes, I am fine…No..I think I am…going to…” She said haltingly and began to collapse. She tried to focus on the streetlights but they swam about her. She knew she was being dumped into the passenger seat of a car and being driven away. The car seat was rough. She could feel each of the fibers on her legs. While the door she leaned against was cool and smooth against her arms, Amber felt simultaneously hot and cold. She could feel her nipples push against her white tank top’s material, but she was sweating also.

“What…no…where…are we going?” She struggled incoherently.

“To my apartment for the night.”

“I left my purse…got to go back for it…my phone…wallet…keys…are in it.” She flipped her head back against the headrest and looked over at him.

“Don’t worry, I…”

Amber didn’t hear the rest and sank into forgetfulness.