by L. M. Carr
I’m a little out of my comfort zone. Needing to control the agitation running rampant throughout my body, I open of a bottle of white wine and sing along to Pink while I raise my glass to Brady, who looks away from me. I think if he could roll his eyes at me, he would. It’s just about 9:00...I run down my list: sexy, black dress? Check. Killer heels? Check. Flawless makeup with a smoky eye? Check. Tousled dark hair falling in waves? Check.
I take a quick selfie and text it to Shelby letting her know that I’m going out with Kate and telling her that she’s to send out the search party if she doesn’t hear from me by tomorrow. It wouldn’t be the first time she’s had to come find me. Kate has been known to go MIA. Shelby responds¸ “Damn girl. You’re dressed to impress! Or maybe to kill! Have fun. Be safe. Love you.”
Kate, already inebriated, barges in through the kitchen door. I place the empty wine glass down and lean in for a quick hug. It’s not a Shelby hug, but a hug none the less. Kate looks great, like she usually does. Her thick blonde hair is pulled into a sleek, high ponytail, showing off her newest tattoo, an infinity sign, which is prominently displayed on the nape of her neck. Her body, long and lean with curves in the all the right places, is to die for. She’s one of those lucky bitches who can eat whatever she wants and never step foot in a gym or maybe her daddy knows a good plastic surgeon. Pulling the phone out of her silver clutch, she snaps a few photos of us and includes them in a group text to people I’ve never met and probably never will. Our friends don’t really run in the same circles.
After giving Brady a quick kiss on the top of his head which Kate thinks is disgusting, I grab my small clutch, turn off all the lights, except for the small lamp on the hall table, and lock the doors.
A tall driver dressed in a dark suit waits by the black town car. “Kate! You got us car service? Seriously!” I snort.
“Come on! It’ll be fun. We can drink and dance and if you find someone you like, you can bring him back here and fu—” Kate’s words are cut short when her eyes snap up to the driver who is staring with raised brows. “Sorry, Phil. I’ll behave. I promise. I mean it this time.” The words slur seductively from her pouty mouth.
The back seat is soft leather and comfortable. Kate sings along with Jason Derulo and adds her own gestures about doing more than just talking dirty to her. The upbeat music pipes in as the air conditioning offers needed relief from the humidity. Driving through town, I wonder who can see us in here behind the tinted windows. It’s not often you see a luxurious town car here. Well, that’s not entirely true. The DeGennaros, they all have nice, fancy, expensive cars.
My thoughts drift back to Gina’s 13th birthday party when her father rented a black, super stretched limo to take thirteen wild teenagers to the movies and then to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant which was owned by one of the many uncles. We were all so impressed and honored to have gotten an invitation!
When we finally arrive at the posh, upscale club, aptly named Pulse, it’s already jam packed, wall to wall, with beautifully dressed women and gorgeous, sexy men. Maybe there’s a prerequisite to be allow in, I laugh to myself. Good thing I’m here with Kate in that case; I doubt I’d even be allowed to stand in the line. The doorman, a “friend” of Kate’s, ushers us in quickly, bypassing the long line, garnering us stares of jealousy and looks of disdain.
A tall, leggy blonde hands us each a glass of bubbly pink champagne as we wind our way through the throng of people. The new wave, techno music is loud and the lights are dim except for the flashing of a strobe light in the far corner of the club. Perfume and cologne waft through the air. Walking closely behind Kate, I take in the scene as we pass the dance floor where hands are roaming all over bodies, gyrating, practically having sex on the dance floor.
This club boasts several massive, mahogany U shaped bars and plush seating areas. Thick, dark red leather couches are arranged in small clusters on the far end with a scattering of high top tables nearby. From anywhere in the bar, you have a good view of the multitudes of partiers.
Our bodies are thrust forward as we laugh and dance to the beat of the fast, techno music. I wave my arms up in the air, swaying my body carelessly, dancing with no one in particular. The bottle and half of champagne that we drank in the car on our way over to the club has loosened my inhibitions. Watching some of these people bump and grind for the world to see is not something I’m used to witnessing up close and personal. My eyes follow their bodies as they move together, almost becoming one. Even though I want to look away, I can’t. It’s erotic and sensual; I’m mesmerized and turned on. Sexy, well-dressed men stalk around looking at the beautiful, half-naked women like predators circling their prey, lust filled eyes roaming up and down their bodies, wanting to devour them.
Suddenly I feel hands on my hips as someone dances closely behind me, pressing something very hard into my ass. My body tenses immediately and I step forward into the crowd, freeing myself. A raspy, deep voice close to my ear interrupts, “Hey, beautiful.” Ignoring the voice that can’t surely be for me, I look at Kate who’s staring at me with raised eyebrows and a sly grin on her drunken face.
“What?” I shout over the music, leaning in closer to hear her.
“Someone wants you.” She nods her head indicating that I should look behind me. Seriously? Me? That huge bulge pressing into my ass was for me? This guy must really be in need of glasses or is blind because there’s no way he is calling me beautiful, not with Kate right here next to me. I mean, I’m pretty enough and all, but Kate, she’s gorgeous and everybody knows it.
My head turns back to meet the voice who’s waiting for a response. My eyes rake upwards from his white, button-down shirt over his throat, finally settling on his full lips. Deep, green eyes embedded in olive skin smile back at me. Wow! Gorgeous man alert!
“Hello,” is all I can manage to say. I’m suddenly aware of the throbbing and pulsating of the music around me. Or is the throbbing coming from within me?
“Hi. I’m...” He looks up above me, thoughtfully, and says, “Devin.” He extends his hand to me and I place my hand in his. “Hi. I’m Mia.” I smile at him. My hand is gently pulled and raised to his lips. His eyes are focused on mine as he places a lingering kiss on my knuckles before pulling me flush against him.
“Hello, Mia.” His eyes search my face. “You haven’t been here before, have you?” He smiles. “Welcome to Pulse.” He swivels his hips, pressing his hardness into my belly.
“Thanks. It’s a pretty cool place, but it’s kind of like a…meat market.” I laugh nervously at my joke. Devin looks at me considerately, his face illuminated by the strobe light. “Let’s get you a drink. You might need it.”
“Oh, okay,” I answer, but Kate’s voice interrupts me when she leans and tells me that she’ll be right back because she sees some people she recognizes. “Kate! Wait, I’ll go with you.” But she doesn’t turn around and I’m left staring at her ass as she makes her way over to a group of friends who’ve just arrived.
“C’mon. Let’s get you that drink,” Devin commands as he places his hand on the small of my back and leads me over to one of the last vacant couches, placing our drink order with yet another leggy blonde. While we wait for our drinks, Devin and I make awkward small talk. He tells me I look beautiful, sexy, and edible.
“So you’ve never been here before. Tell me why?” he asks, his eyes keep roaming over my body like he’s buying a car.
“This isn’t really my kind of bar, actually. I’m not into this scene,” I answer honestly.
“That’s too bad. Believe me, after tonight, you’ll be coming here over and over again.” His lips pull back in a devious grin. Something tells me he’s not talking about my attendance to the club.
Devin runs his hand up and down the cocktail waitress’ legs, lingering close to her ass when she bends over to deliver our drinks. Her eyes dance with delight at his affection; I’m thinking that her job description doesn’t just include serving drinks. Our conversation
continues as if he hadn’t just groped this woman in front of me. He mentions that he’s one of the club owners. He seems to be early to mid-thirties and I’m impressed that he’s an entrepreneur, finding success in the entertainment industry. The loud music makes it difficult to hear so he leans in closer, practically on top of me, grinning at me roguishly. I should feel flattered when he says that he noticed me the minute I walked in, but I don’t.
Feeling uncomfortable, I shift my body away from him, looking around the club, pretending to see someone I know just to gain some space. It’s hot enough in here without the added heat radiating from his body; my pulse is starting to race. Maybe that’s where they got the name from. My wild friend is nowhere to be seen at the moment. A sense of unease creeps into me when I realize that aside from Kate, I’m surrounded by absolute strangers who are probably all pretty drunk or well on their way. I’m all for going out and having a good time, but you need to be smart about it. And something about Devin makes me uneasy, triggering my anxiety to kick up a notch.
Devin slides closer to me, placing his muscular arm around my shoulder, pulling me to him. “Mmmm…enough talking. I can’t wait to slide my cock into you. Baby, I’m going to make you scream so fucking loud when you come,” he growls after biting down hard on my earlobe. His tongue slides down and he licks my neck. You know that moment in a movie where time stands still and the camera circles the main character and she’s like, “What the fuck is going on?” Yeah, that just happened!
Without wanting to send myself into a full blown panic attack or causing a scene by punching him in the face, I hastily excuse myself to the ladies’ room. He wants to fuck me? He doesn’t even know me! What the hell kind of club is this? Now that I look around, I see the signs that this is no ordinary dance club. The mass of tangled bodies grinding and gyrating should’ve been a clue. I curse Kate to the pits of hell; I’m so going to kill her for bringing me here!
When I decline his offer to walk me, Devin reaches forward, grabs my hand, pushing it against his bulge, and assures me that he’ll be waiting right here. My eyes spit fire at this crass, rude, asshole of a man before I turn to leave. A sense of desperation floods me as I look around searching for my friend. I just need to find Kate and get the hell out of here. This isn’t the place for me.
After waiting in the long line that snakes down the dimly lit hall, I squeeze my way through moving bodies, exiting the bathroom hoping to find Kate so we can leave. There’s another door at the end of the hall which is illuminated by a black light, but there’s no line. Maybe it’s the VIP bathrooms or something. I send Kate a text asking where she is. I lie and tell her that I’m not feeling well and that I need to leave sooner rather than later.
My eyes roam back and forth across the dance floor, the crowded bar and finally up to the second level. I didn’t notice all the smaller balconies perched above me, each one like a hotel balcony, overlooking the club. My body follows my eyes, rotating in a full circle as I count at least twenty balconies full of people, kissing, touching or watching. I can only imagine what I must look like if someone were watching me. They’d see a foreign tourist, gazing upward in awe at the massive skyscrapers on the streets of Manhattan.
Continuing to search the faces on the balconies, I still don’t see my soon to be ex-friend, Kate. An intense chill, like a charge of electricity, shoots straight through me from my head to my toes because instead of locating my fiery friend, I meet a pair of dark, familiar eyes, watching me. Standing tall with long, outstretched arms, his black sleeves rolled up, strong hands grip the railing; an angry faced man who looks very much like Adam Lawson stares directly down at me. What the fuck? It can’t possibly be him, can it? I mean really, what are the chances that this mysterious man is here at this particular club, on this particular night, in this city. His dark eyes are intense; the lower half of his handsome face is covered with a thick, dark beard. There is no doubt in my mind that it’s him; even my body knows it’s him, as moisture pools below. This can’t possibly be happening to me! Why the hell is he here? He doesn’t look like the clubbing type and he’s a father for God’s sake. A hot father but a father nonetheless.
I want to look away. I try to look away, but I just can’t seem to tear my eyes away from his gaze. A sultry, redheaded woman wearing a shimmery, tight green dress with a deep plunging neckline exposing her full breasts, wraps her arm around his and whispers in his ear. I watch enraptured as he slowly, almost deliberately shakes his head from side to side indicating an answer of “no.” For a moment, I feel like he’s not answering her, but somehow talking to me, telling me “no.”
Our staring contest ends when a drunken woman, dancing wildly, knocks into me causing me to stumble forward and lose my footing. Devin’s arms engulf me immediately. “Hey there, beautiful. You okay?” Embarrassed, I smile and reassure him that I’m fine, readjusting the hem of my little black dress, pulling it down to cover my ass. I love this dress, but it leaves very little to the imagination.
Devin’s eyes are glazed over; he looks like the devil himself. A nervous chuckle escapes, wondering where he keeps his red suit and pitch fork. I glance back up to where Adam was just standing only seconds before; disappointment floods me because he is no longer there. He’s gone. Blinking furiously, I recall all that I had to drink—I must be drunker than I thought because I’m hallucinating. Seriously, Mia. Chill the fuck out! Adam Lawson, here? Really? Maybe he has a twin brother or a doppelganger.
Grabbing my phone that I feel vibrating in my clutch, I receive a text from Kate letting me know that something came up and she left, but that Phil, our driver, will take me home when I’m ready. She left? What the hell?
I tap out my response, “Not funny. Where r u?”
She responds immediately, “Sorry. ILY” She loves me?
You stupid bitch, at the moment I hate you! Faster than my fingers can move, I respond, “Meet me out front. We are leaving. NOW.”
What was I thinking coming out tonight? This is Kate. Wild, carefree, irresponsible Krazy Kate. It’s not like I can call Shelby or Pete for a ride; it’ll take them almost an hour to get here and I’ll never hear the end of it about going out with her. They’re not really fans of the notorious KK. And tonight I can’t say that I disagree.
Devin, still standing in front of me, leans down into my ear, a smile on his lips. “Hey, you ready to get out of here?” Uh…YES, just not with you! “I have a VIP suite upstairs. A couple of friends might join us.” Devin’s eyes light up and he smiles lustfully at me. What? Maybe it’s the effect of too much alcohol too fast, but I feel like I’m in the Twilight Zone. I’m waiting for Ashton Kutcher to come out and tell me I’m being punked.
“Actually, Devin, something’s come up. I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.” I lie. His eyebrows rise up in disbelief, his smile now twists into a snarl. “What do you mean, ‘You’re leaving’? You can’t just leave? It doesn’t work that way. I CHOSE you.” Devin’s words sneer in my face as he grabs my arm so hard that I know I’ll have a bruise in the morning.
I swallow hard as I look at him, anger filling me. My words are confident, but my body feels anything but. “You need to get your hands off me.” I search the crowded club for someone to come to my rescue, but no one seems to notice what’s going on between us. I would imagine that we look like everyone else with hands roaming and groping.
Devin drops the hold of my arm and backs away, seeming to realize what he’s done. “I’m…I’m sorry, but you can’t just leave,” he stammers, before reaching out to grab my hand, pressing it along his pants where his erection is firm. “Devin, let me go!” I push against him. He bends down into my ear and whispers, “This is for you. You’ll be begging me for it. I can promise you that.”
That’s it! I see red and lose my shit. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” I yell. In an instant, the image of my brother, teaching me how to throw a proper punch, races across my mind. Never in my life have I been so angry. Never in my life did I want to lite
rally put my fist through someone’s face. Scratch that—that’s not entirely true, but you get my point. I’m pretty pissed.
Before I realize what’s happening, I step back and throw my weight forward as my fist flies and connects with Devin’s face. Blood immediately flows onto his lips and chin, staining his white shirt. “You fucking bitch! You hit me!” Devin’s eyes widen as he clutches at his bloody nose. I stumble back into the crowd instantaneously, needing to get away from him and far away from here. The last thing I need is to get arrested for assault.
Immediately, I spot an illuminated sign and push my way in that direction. I send up a silent prayer and plea that Phil is there waiting for me and that Devin, the asshole, isn’t following me. The music seems to be louder and more people are packed into the club. I can’t imagine they’re not violating some occupancy law right about now. Fighting my way through the crowds of people strolling into the club, I realize that it’s an entrance not an exit. People are being ushered in as I’m trying to get out. It’s not until I turn to look for the exit sign do I realize it’s located in the back corner of the club; it’s in the direction that Devin went and I don’t want to take my chances of running into him again.
The humidity in the air is stagnant, thick and heavy as I stomp out of the club, swearing to myself that I’m going to kill Kate. The line to get in seems to have gotten even longer, wrapping around the corner. Lust is smeared all over their faces. It’s almost ironic that I can’t wait to get out and these people can’t wait to get in. It’s just a stupid club. A fucking weird club with men who think they can take what’s not being offered.
Damn it! Where is he? Annoyed at myself for even coming out with Kate, I scan up and down the street looking for Phil, walking quickly even though I’ve got a blister forming on my toe. That’s what I get for wearing four inch stilettos. The humid air is thick, causing my beautifully coiffed hair to frizz and stick to the back of my neck. Mumbling to myself for my own stupidity for wearing these shoes, but more importantly, for coming out with Kate, I head towards the parking lot thinking maybe Phil has parked the car there and is waiting for me. I wish I had gotten Phil’s number. I should text Kate, but I’m sure whatever took her away in the first place, is now preoccupying her time.