Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 73846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 369(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
“I don’t want to be in that world right now,” he said, green eyes looking out the window. The sun had mostly set, leaving a lingering sliver of opaque light that gave the trees an otherworldly glow.
His mind was made up, and I didn’t want to push the issue any further. We wouldn’t go anywhere tonight.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t put on a show for him. There was no way I was letting all these superpowers go to waste. I put a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, and when he didn’t look up at me, I placed a finger on his chin and raised his head so that our eyes could meet. “We don’t have to go anywhere. Well, except for your living room.”
Elijah’s brow lifted in suspicion. “Huh?”
“I’m still putting on a show for you, whether we’re here or at a bar. Now go, sit on the couch and dim the lights. Mama’s got to get ready.”
Elijah narrowed his eyes and cocked his head before giving me a genuine belly laugh. It was such a sweet, endearing, fucking addicting sound. He quickly composed himself and offered me a shrug. “All right, that sounds like fun, actually.” The apprehension that had painted his face lifted, like a fog lifting over a daisy-filled landscape. He had such a bright smile, the kind that tugged at the corners of his eyes. I wondered if he knew just how beautiful his smile was, considering he so rarely gave it out.
Before I could put my high heel in my mouth and tell him how much I loved his smile, he left me alone in his drag room, closing the door and cutting off a chuckle. He popped his head back in and asked me to send him a few of my favorite songs for the big show.
I gave myself a look in the mirror, still astonished by the transformation Elijah pulled off. I truly didn’t recognize myself, and that gave me a sense of the “fuck it alls”. From the way my cheeks glittered to how my eyes popped with color to how my skin looked as smooth as porcelain, everything about the makeup was flawless. I patted the wig and admired how soft it felt, moving my head this way and that to try and lock in the best angle.
Gah damn, I make a good-looking woman.
With the songs sent and my heels on, I straightened my shoulders and called out for Elijah to start the show. The beginning note from one of my favorite songs started to play, giving me my cue. I wobbled out into the hallway, gaining confidence in the heels as I turned the corner and entered the living room.
Elijah sat in the center of the couch with a big smile on his face. He had thrown a couple of shirts on the few lamps that were on, dimming the lights down to club levels. He had a tiny Bluetooth speaker perched on the armrest that he pressed Play on, the sound surprisingly loud and filling the entire room. The coffee table had been moved to the side, giving me a clear stage to work with.
“Please welcome to the stage…” Elijah announced over the music. “Sunshine Divine!”
And I was off to the (drag) races. I stomped my way to the center of the stage, still getting the hang of these heels, and swayed my hips to the song, shaking my head so that my wig seemed like a choreographed backup dancer. Elijah took out a fat chunk of singles from his pocket and started waving a few in the air, cheering me on. I grabbed them as the chorus kicked in; only then did I remember I was supposed to also be lip-syncing to the song.
Damn, drag is fucking hard.
As the song transitioned into the next, I started to become way more comfortable. It was like I was slowly figuring out who my inner queen truly was. A queen who liked to dance with a sexy twist to her hips but also a queen who liked to joke around and just have fun.
I hiked up my dress, practically all the way up to my ass, and dropped into a twerking position: hands on knees and ass in the air. As soon as the beat dropped, so did my ass. Up and down, popping it out. Elijah made it rain dollars on me as he hooted and hollered like a straight boy in a version of The Terminal, except instead of an airport, they’re permanently stuck inside a strip club.
“Oooookay, work!” Elijah shouted as I shakily got on top of an ottoman and performed to my sold-out crowd. The heels and the height were too frightening for my first drag performance, so I quickly stumbled off, gaining my balance and dropping into a squat as the song cut out. I put my hands on my hips and posed with a kissy face. Elijah stood up and gave me a loud ovation, making me feel like a proper celebrity.