Free The Sunday Arrangement by Lucy Smith

preferred
a more realistic subject than mermen and seashell bras. “I guess this is Vegas, after all. Anything’s possible, right? Should be interesting even though
I’m not sure I’ll be able to pay attention with the tanks directly behind the
stage.”
    “I
know what you mean,” he said. His eyes locked on mine, and my breath caught at
the intensity I saw within his stare. How did he always do that? He’d become
serious and concentrated, leaving me breathless, wondering what he was thinking
about.
    He
quickly stood up and shifted his seat beside mine. “Better view,” he mumbled.
Although his back had been at an odd angle with the stage, I couldn’t help but
hope he wanted to be closer to me. Maybe, just maybe, he too felt the heat
between us.
    The
lights around us dimmed, and the lights in the tanks brightened. It was as if
we were really seeing the aquatic life for the first time. The water was so
clear, so vivid. Two swimmers clad in bizarre mermaid costumes and oxygen tanks
swam into view. Ariel wore a long, red wig and a low-cut seashell bra, a little
more adult than the Disney original. A spotlight shone on a man standing at a
podium on stage.
    “Welcome
to Club Oasis,” he said. The narrator’s voice resonated throughout the theater
as several people applauded in eager anticipation. “Sit back and relax. You’re
about to see the tale of The Little Mermaid and what happened when she
asked Ursula for what she really wanted from Prince Eric.”
    “I
wonder what she really wanted,” Pierce whispered in my ear.
    “Once
upon a time, there was a beautiful mermaid named Ariel,” the narrator began.
His voice was strong and captivating. “Ariel seemed like such a sweet little
girl to everyone in the mermaid kingdom. She was innocent to the many
temptations of the sea.”
    More
swimmers came into view inside the tank. Like Ariel, all of them were wearing
seashell bras and long, flowing wigs. Each of the mermaids held a white
rectangular sign. Lust, greed, sexual fantasy, fornication—all representing a
different path in the world. They swam in a circle around Ariel, moving their
signs in front of her face in a choreographed movement.
    “Until
one day,” the narrator continued, “Ariel saw a handsome merman. His dark hair,
washboard abs, and seductive gaze made Ariel feel explorative. She was ready
for an adventure.
    “Little
Ariel didn’t know what to do with herself. She had never been with a merman
before.”
    I
tried to focus on the erotic story in front of me: the elaborate choreography
between the two actors in the water, the beautiful creatures that surrounded
them, the dynamic voice of the narrator on stage, the sexual movement of the
actors in the tank. But I couldn’t.
    Pierce
leaned in close. I felt his warm breath against my neck. “This is turning you
on. Admit it,” he whispered in my ear.
    I
could feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Why was he speaking this way? He
was so close. Thankful he couldn’t see my face well in the dark light, I stared
at the table. “You planned this,” I whispered back before I could stop myself.
    “Actually,
I had no idea how erotic this little fish tale was going to get,” he said. “But
I can’t say that I’m disappointed.” He glanced at the tank. My eyes followed. The
Little Mermaid was now pushed up against the tank receiving spankings from her
handsome merman.
    “Admit
it though,” he whispered again. “This is getting you hot.” He placed his hand
on my upper thigh. His fingers, warm to my skin, slowly squeezed my leg as if
he was forcing an answer from me.
    I
shuddered at his touch. Was this really happening? Did he actually want me? I surprised myself by not immediately shirking away from his grip. In spite of Kat’s
warning text, my own doubts about mixing business with pleasure, and the
surefire field day the press would have with this information if it was leaked,
I couldn’t help but cave to the heat radiating from his