by Mia Sheridan
I sighed and pulled the door open. I'd go inside with Travis. If nothing else, Bree would be happy that I had the guys' night out she was so enthusiastic about.
We walked up to the door and a big guy with a shaved head and a t-shirt that said, 'employee,' asked for our ID's. Well, there went that. I didn't have an ID. I started to turn around, but Travis grabbed my arm and leaned in and flashed his badge and said something to the big guy. He nodded and waved us in.
Inside the club, the music was blaring–something about sex and candy–and I squinted in the dim lighting as I took in the room. There were small tables placed around a big runway in the center of the room, and my eyes widened as a half-naked woman slid down a gold pole. For a few seconds, I simply stood there and stared at her before Travis grabbed my arm again and pulled me forward to a table where two other guys sat with half-empty drinks in front of them.
"Hey, assholes," Travis said, swinging one of the chairs around backwards and sitting down on it, looking at me and pointing to the chair next to him. I took a seat.
"Jason, Brad, this is my cousin, Archer."
"Hey man," Jason said, holding out his hand. "Glad you could join us." I shook it and noticed that Travis had been telling the truth. He wore a wedding ring.
"Nice to meet you," Brad said, and I shook his hand as well.
A waitress came over in what looked to be a swimsuit with a small skirt and asked if we'd like to order drinks.
Travis turned to the girl and glanced at her nametag and said, "Hi, Brenda," and smiled. She giggled and looked around our table.
"Well, you're a fine looking group of boys," she said, grinning at us. I smiled politely back when we made eye contact.
"What can I get you?"
Travis leaned forward. "A round of shots–Cuervo Gold, and a round of Yeungling."
The waitress smiled and went off to get our drinks. Travis chatted with Brad and Jason while I watched the show on stage. As the girl opened her legs and slid slowly down the pole, I felt myself harden slightly in my jeans and scooted in to the table so that the other guys couldn't see. Travis looked over at me and smiled knowingly.
The waitress placed our drinks down on the table and Travis handed her some cash. She leaned over slightly and stuck it down between her large breasts. I swallowed heavily. I didn't know what to think of all this.
Travis turned around and held up the small shot glass and said, "To Archer! And an unforgettable night!" The other guys raised their glasses, laughing and calling, "Hear, hear!" I watched them as they downed the liquid in one quick gulp and then stuck limes in their mouths. I did the same, forcing myself not to spit it out when it burned its way down my throat. My eyes watered, and I stuck the lime in my mouth and sucked out the sour liquid. It helped.
Travis smacked me on the shoulder and said, "That's it!" and raised his beer to me. I picked mine up and raised it to him and took a swallow, grimacing slightly at the taste of that too.
Uncle Nate had been a drinker. He kept it around our house and I had tried it once when I was fifteen or so. He seemed to like it so well. It had tasted like rubbing alcohol to me and I had spit out the first sip I'd taken. Why he liked it so much, I wasn't sure.
I stayed away from it after that. Plus, my dad had been a rip-roaring drunk and I still remembered him coming home, barely able to walk, but still with enough strength to smack my mom around.
I moved those thoughts aside and looked back up to the stage. There was a new girl up there now–petite, with long, light brown hair. She reminded me a little bit of Bree. I watched as she started gyrating to the music, sliding up and down the pole with one leg wrapped around it. She leaned backwards, her hair falling back as she arched all the way over. I brought the beer bottle to my lips and took a huge swallow.
This was all too much–the loud music pumping through the speakers, all the whoops and hollers and loud talk around me, the sights and the sounds overwhelming me, and my body responding to things I wasn't quite sure I was okay with. But the beer seemed to be helping now, making things just foggy enough that all the input was bearable, and some of my confusion seemed unimportant.
When the girl's dance was done, all the guys at the front of the stage leaned forward and started putting dollar bills in her underwear. One waved what looked like a twenty at her and when she crawled over to him, he reached between her legs and stuck it under the material of her crotch. I looked away.
I'd had enough. I didn't have a frame of reference for everything going on, and it made me feel less-than, like everyone here had one up on me. I didn't like it. It was the reason I stayed on my own plot of land and didn't attempt to interact with anyone. The last thing I needed was another reason to feel like everyone except me knew what the hell was going on.
I turned to Travis, starting to stand up, pointing to the door. Travis pushed my shoulder roughly, and I sat back down on the chair hard, my jaw clenching.
He leaned toward me, pursing his lips and taking one shoulder between his fingers and thumb as I narrowed my eyes at him. If he thought he was going to keep me here against my will, he had another thing coming. I'd hitchhike home if I had to.
"Listen, bro," he said quietly so the other guys couldn't hear, I guessed, although they were busy whooping and hollering at the girl on stage. "You think Bree doesn't enjoy a little something on the side right now? In fact, I should know." He looked at me knowingly and leaned in closer. "I love how her lips taste like peaches."
My eyes flared and my gut clenched. He had kissed Bree?
Travis sighed. "I'm just trying to help you out, Archer. Bree doesn't think you can satisfy her, and so she comes where she knows she's gonna get what she needs." He raised his eyebrows, obviously indicating himself. "And as it is, you probably can't give that to her. That's why I brought you here, man."
I sat back in my chair, frowning back up at the stage where a brunette was bent over a chair. Bree was kissing other men? Bree was kissing Travis? Anger raged through my bloodstream. But maybe I couldn't blame her. Maybe I was reading her all wrong–I thought she liked what we did together, but how the hell did I really know? How could I not be coming across as a complete and utter novice? She probably was bored.
Another round of beers showed up at our table and I took a big drink of the full beer in front of me.
I was unhappy and angry about the thought of Bree with Travis, but the alcohol and the girls on stage were making the blood flowing through my veins feel hot–and I was turned on. I wanted nothing more than to go home to Bree. I wanted to kiss her and taste her everywhere. I wanted her to take me in her mouth again… but I wanted to know that I was doing it right. I didn't want to feel like the virgin I was.
The girl up on stage ran her hands up her own breasts and then grabbed the pole and mimicked the sex act on it. I was fully hard under the table. Getting up and leaving wasn't an option just then.
The other guys were still splitting half their attention between the stage and half their attention amongst each other, chatting and laughing loudly. I wasn't listening to them anymore. I continued drinking–the taste of it had grown on me.
A blond that had been up on stage a little earlier came up to our table and leaned down to whisper in Jason's ear. He laughed and got up, following her through a door next to the stage. I glanced at Travis, and he raised his eyebrows at me, grinning broadly. He leaned toward me. "I have a surprise for you," he said loudly over the music. "I think you'll like it."
He looked behind him and signaled to someone and a minute later a girl walked over to our table. She smiled at me and I stared at her–she looked so familiar.
Travis leaned forward. "Archer, you remember Amber Dalton? She works here now."
Amber Dalton–the girl I had had a crush on when I was fourteen. The one Travis humiliated me in front of. The liquor coursing through my system must have been the reason I felt no embarrassment in front of her. I just continued to look at her, taking in her shoulder length black hair, and th
ose same large, brown eyes that I had loved all those years ago. She was still as pretty as I remembered her.
"Archer Hale?" she whispered, her eyes widening. "My God, I had no idea." Her eyes swept over me. "Well, you grew up just fine, didn't you?" She smiled, and I couldn't help the pleasure that swept through me. It felt like what happened all those years ago had been made okay by the appreciation of my physical appearance shining in her eyes.
"Amber," Travis cut in, "I do believe Archer is ready for that private time I discussed with you." He winked at her.
My head seemed to clear a little and I shook it no, and held out my hand to shake hers–my 'nice to see you again' gesture.
Instead, she ignored my outstretched hand and planted herself on my lap, the overwhelming scent of sweet vanilla wafting off of her. I stiffened slightly, not knowing what I should do with my hands other than keep them hanging by my sides.
"Sounds great!" she crooned, leaning closer and wiggling down on my still semi-hard erection. I sucked in a breath. This felt weird, but good. I wasn't sure what to do.
As the music pumped steadily in the background, Amber leaned in to me and whispered in my ear, "Damn, you're gorgeous, Archer. And your body…" She trailed a finger down my chest. "You know I liked you all those years ago, right? I saw how you watched me down by the lake. I wanted you to come out… but you never did…"
I watched her finger as it moved steadily down my chest to end at the waistband of my jeans where she dipped it just a little bit inside, and then started moving back up my chest. Now I was fully hard again.
"Go on you two." Travis laughed. "Have fun."
Amber jumped off my lap and stood up and yanked me up too. I walked slightly behind her to hide my condition, swaying slightly. Damn, I was drunker than I thought.
Amber led me through the same door Jason had disappeared through, down a long, dim hallway and then pulled me in through a door on the left, shutting it behind her.
There was a chair in the middle of the room and she walked me to it, and then pushed me down gently.
She walked over to a table and fiddled around with something and a minute later, music started wafting through the speakers on the wall. The music was nice this time though–not overly loud and overwhelming. I felt better in here.
Amber walked toward me and I forced my eyes not to droop. It felt like the blood in my veins was buzzing, but I felt numb at the same time.
She straddled my lap and her perfume wafted up at me again, tickling my nose. She swayed to the music for a few minutes, closing her eyes and leaning back so that I could study her. She was pretty, but not like Bree. Now that I was looking at her up close under lights that were a little brighter than out by the stage, I didn't like all the makeup on Amber's face, and I thought there was something a little harsh about the way she looked–something different than when she was a teenager.
She swayed back up until she was completely upright and brought the front of her tank top down. Her breasts popped out and she grabbed my hands herself and planted them on her. My dick throbbed in my jeans. I rubbed her nipples the way Bree liked and Amber tossed her head back, moaning. I squeezed her lightly. Her breasts were bigger than Bree's, but they felt different–not soft, but almost overly-firm, and the skin stretched and shiny.
Amber opened her eyes and brought her head up and then studied me, her eyes dropping as she licked her lips. "You know," she said, unbuttoning the top couple buttons on my shirt, "we're just supposed to give lap dances in here, but Travis tipped me extra to give you anything you want." She reached her hand down and rubbed me through my jeans. My eyes fell closed and I panted out harshly.
"God, you're big, honey," she breathed out, running her lips down the side of my neck now. She sucked the skin there, making me jump slightly when I felt her teeth nip me. "Mmm," she moaned, rubbing herself against me. "I can't wait to ride that big, thick cock of yours, gorgeous. Do you like it fast and wild or slow and deep? Hmmm?" She crooned. "We're gonna find out, aren't we, baby?"
My body reacted to her words, but inside, something about this felt wrong. I didn't even know this girl. Was I really supposed to use her for sex and then go home to Bree, the girl I actually cared about? Is that really what Jason did with his wife? I wanted Bree to see me like she saw other men–I didn't want her to want to kiss Travis–but this, this seemed… God, I couldn't think through the alcohol and the way Amber was rubbing me through my jeans. All my thoughts were jumbled together, my emotions all over the place. I needed to get out of this room. I'd just get this over with and go home. And then first thing in the morning, I'd go to Bree.
**********
I stumbled out of the room ten minutes later and went to find Travis. He was still at the table we had been sitting at, a redhead sitting on his lap. I tapped him on his shoulder, and he looked back over at me and a huge smile came over his face. He nudged the redhead off his lap and said, "Ready to go home, buddy?"
I nodded, frowning. That's all I wanted, just to get out of here and go to Bree. I wanted to hold her. Depression swept through me when I thought about what I'd done with Amber. I tried to move that aside though–I hadn't done anything the other men at the club had done, apparently. And I'd seen plenty of wedding rings here. Evidently, wives accepted that kind of thing. I guessed I really was a freak, though, because I wouldn't do it again. I felt empty and unhappy… and ashamed.
We drove across the bridge to Pelion. Travis was silent the entire trip, a small smile curving his mouth up. I didn't care what the hell he was smiling about–the alcohol was making me sleepy, and I rested my head against the window and closed my eyes, thinking of Bree.
Travis shook me what seemed like a few seconds later, and I blearily opened his door and stepped out. Right before I closed it, Travis winked at me and said, "Let's do this again, bro." I didn't acknowledge his words, just turned my back on his truck. It was then that I noticed that we were in front of Bree's cottage. I turned around to get back in Travis's truck, but he revved the engine and I stumbled back as he peeled off noisily.
CHAPTER 20
Bree
I turned over in bed, smiling out the window at the dark lake beyond. I had called Melanie and Liza when I found out Archer was going out with Travis and we had had a girl's night of our own.
We'd gone down to the local pool hall in town and drank a few beers and laughed and talked, mostly about small town gossip. Apparently, there was a girl in town who was having affairs with at least three married men. The wives of Pelion were in an uproar. Of course, I didn't think the girl was as much to blame as the men who had made the vows and broken them. But I guessed it was less painful to believe that their men had been lured away by some kind of magic temptress than that they were just lying, cheating assholes.
We also talked a lot about Archer and I told them all about him. They listened to me, shocked, but excited looks on their faces. "My God, we had no idea, Bree," Melanie said. Then she was thoughtful for a minute while I took a drink of my beer.
"You know though," she continued, "you're really the only one who could have figured that out. You knowing sign… and ending up here… and him being alone, with no one to talk to–it's like the most beautiful kind of fate." I had smiled dreamily at that, letting her words wash over me. It was. That's what it felt like. The most beautiful kind of fate.
We made a pretty early night of it and got home by eleven, since I had to work in the morning, and I had showered and then read for a while. I turned off my light and was thinking about Archer and wondering how his night was going. I was so proud of him for agreeing to go out with Travis. He had looked so leery and unsure, and I knew that most of the reason he'd gone was because I'd encouraged it. But it was still such a big step. He had barely been off his own property, except for the occasional trip into town to get groceries or supplies for his projects, since he was seven years old! Going out to a bar or a restaurant was a big deal. I hoped he had had at least a little bit of fun.
I turned over again when I heard a car door shut loudly and what sounded like a big truck go roaring off. What the heck? Phoebe perked her head up at the bottom of my bed and let out a soft bark.
My heart sped up, fear sweeping through me. I steadied my breathing though–if this was someone intending me harm, if it was him, he definitely wouldn't announce himself with a bunch of avoidable noise.
"Stop being paranoid, Bree," I murmured. But I tiptoed to the front room anyway, Phoebe at my heels.
I pulled the edge of the curtain back and peeked out the window. I saw a large form walking unsteadily away from my cottage. Was that… Archer? Yes, yes it was.
I hurried to my door and flung it open, calling softly, "Archer?"
He turned around in the road and just stood there.
I cocked my head to the side, smiling a small, confused smile. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "Come here, I'm in my PJ's."
He stood there for a few beats, swaying very slightly, looking… I squinted my eyes into the dim light… drunk and upset. Oh geez, did Travis get him drunk? Great.
Suddenly, he started walking toward me, his head down. He came up my steps and walked right up to me, gathering me in his arms. He held on to me tightly and buried his nose in my neck, inhaling deeply.
I froze in his embrace. Oh God, he smelled like another woman's perfume–reeked of it, actually. Some vanilla, dime store stink. My heart seemed to thud to a stop in my chest and then start up again erratically. What in the hell had happened during guys' night out?
"Archer," I said again, pushing him away from me gently. He took a step back and made a movement that made me think he was trying to shake his hair into his face. But he didn't have long hair anymore. He ran a hand over his newly cropped style and looked at me miserably.
He brought his hands up and signed, somewhat sloppily, I didn't like guys' night out. I don't like strip clubs.