Jack Hammer

by Tabatha Vargo

  “Okay,” I agreed, earning myself a shocked gasp from Lynn. “What were you thinking?”

  “Okay, so I met a few girls at the coffee shop by your apartment. We’ve been kind of hanging out there every day this week. One of the girls is getting married next weekend, and they’re having a bachelorette party at a club on the outskirts of New Jersey. I think it could be fun.”

  Lynn had been in New York a week, and already she’d managed to make friends. She was refreshing and easy talk to. Being from the south meant she didn’t meet a stranger and talked to everyone as if she’d known them her entire life.

  Me? Not so much.

  “You’re serious?” I asked.

  We stepped out of the building and into the cool afternoon air. There was a slight chance of rain for the night, and already there was a cloudy haze and light drizzle.

  “Hell yes, I’m serious. Neither of us are getting married any time soon, which means we have years before we can enjoy a decent bachelorette party.”

  Stopping, I turned toward her and took in her happy smile and flushed cheeks. She really wanted to do this. Honestly, going to any club sounded terrible to me. At least if we went with a group of girls Lynn would have people to dance with.

  That was good news for me. It meant I didn’t have to spend the night worrying she was going to pull me onto a dance floor full of sweaty people. I hated standing there and nodding my head like I knew what I was doing.

  I didn’t.

  “Fine,” I gave in. “What time?”

  **********

  LYNN AND I MET THE BRIDE-TO-BE and a group of wild women outside my apartment. I climbed into the back of the limo and sat in the corner quietly during the ride. The girls were pre-gaming and taking shots straight out of the bottle. They were ready for a wild night of drinking and I so wasn’t.

  The club on the outskirts of New Jersey was two hours away. By the time the limo pulled up, the girls were already slurring and removing clothes to cool themselves off. While they were wearing short skirts and tops that revealed way too much cleavage, I’d opted for a less obvious route. My black leggings and long blouse covered me completely.

  I sat and waited as the girls fell from the limo, their heels digging into the white rocks outside the club. Once I emerged, I was faced with a big, brick building. A golden neon in the shape of a banana took over the top of the building and hung over the words, The Golden Banana.

  It was huge. So big in fact, I was sure with the proper equipment I could see it from my apartment two hours away.

  The parking lot was full, and the music from inside the building could be heard from where we were. The rocks popped beneath my boots as I walked behind the girls and toward the entrance. I hated going to clubs. My palms were sweaty and my mouth felt dry with nerves. I swallowed hard over my parched throat.

  A bald man with entirely too many muscles, tattoos, and piercings took our money at the door and didn’t even bother to check our IDs. Neither Lynn nor I were twenty-one yet, and we were used to wearing the ugly band around our wrist that kept us from drinking. It looked like even Lynn was going to get to continue to drink once we were inside. I was used to being the only sober person in the group.

  When the doors opened, smoke and fog moved outside around us, and the beats from the music thumped inside my stomach. Moving through the dimly lit room, I followed the girls to the bar and stood to the side as they took a group shot and ordered their drinks.

  I moved my eyes around the room, noticing there was an abnormal amount of women and only a few men skittered throughout the room. There was no dance floor, so everyone was seated and chatting loudly at tables surrounding a stage.

  Then the MC started talking, and the music lifted the room. I slowly began to realize the kind of club the girls dragged me out to.

  A male strip club.

  I wanted to die on the spot. Literally, die and fall to the ground where I’d hopefully decompose and disappear. Instantly, I regretted not bringing my own car, but living in the city meant I rarely drove it anywhere. I wanted to go home, but I couldn’t ruin the bachelorette party.

  I blushed hard once a guy came out on the stage and began to dance and strip.

  “Come on, Chelsey! Get into it,” Lynn yelled over the music, tugging my arm and pulling me to a table beside the stage.

  The bride-to-be and her friends shoved money at the men and screamed filthy things. They grabbed at their chests and bit into their lips.

  It was disgusting. They were an embarrassment.

  Once the guy on the stage was done dancing and collecting the money that littered the floor, he left the stage. The fluorescents changed color, altering the atmosphere in the room. The purple lighting shifted, before landing like a spotlight on the center of the stage. The DJ slowed the music as the MC spoke into the mic.

  “Now, ladies. I have a question for you.” His voice boomed into the room. “Are you ready to get hammered?”

  The room exploded with screams, the women standing from their chairs and all but climbing onto the stage.

  “Then welcome to the stage.” Music began playing alongside his announcement. “The teaser! The Pleaser! Jack! Hammer!”

  He held the word hammer long and the music picked up in beat and grew.

  A stripper stepped onto the stage dressed in all camouflage like a soldier. The rock music grew louder as he moved into the center of the stage. His camo hat was pulled low over his eyes as he saluted the ladies in the rooms.

  He worked his body, grinding his hips and running his hands over his baggy, camo pants, before grabbing at his crotch. The girls next to me screamed, Lynn included.

  Slowly, he opened his camo jacket, revealing the white tank top beneath. He playfully lifted the bottom of his tank with a suggestive grin, showing off smooth, cut abdominal muscles.

  Finally, he ripped his tank down the center, revealing a thick chest that glistened under the lighting. Pulling off his jack and tank at the same time, he began to show more of his gorgeous body. His sexy, tan arms were muscled and his shoulders were broad. He was beautiful, and the way he moved his body was mesmerizing. My eyes trailed over his stomach, entranced by the glide of his muscles with his movements.

  I began to feel the excitement of the ladies around me as he unbuttoned the top of his pants and pulled one side open like he was going to show us exactly what we were waiting to see.

  Yes. I said we.

  Not since Blaine had I looked at another man, but something about the dancer on stage was really doing it for me.

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. I followed his large hands as he worked them over his body. He moved around the stage, until finally he was right in front of our table. The bride-to-be stood and ran her hands over his stomach. He grinned down at her with thick lips and a sexy set of dimples. His smile was all we could see since his hat still covered most of his face.

  Then his pants were gone, and the girls at my table were reaching up and running their hands over his thick thighs. Money was shoved into his G-string, which left nothing to the imagination.

  He was big and hard, popping out of his underwear, and standing tall like the patriotic soldier he was dressed as. He jumped from the stage, spending extra time with the soon-to-be-bride. He thrust his hips into her as she threw her head back in laughter. His hard ass worked fast like a jack hammer, and I found myself biting into my bottom lip and wishing he’d come toward me.

  And then he did.

  Lynn reach out and tugged at his underwear, letting his length and thickness loose. Instead of covering it, he left it hanging out and let us enjoy how beautiful it was. His confidence only made him even sexier.

  I looked away, trying not to stare like the rest of the women, and he moved closer to me. Another woman pulled his hat from his head, but with the light blazing into my eyes, I still couldn’t see his face.

  The music continued, and before long his penis was in my face.

  I say penis loosely because eve
n though I wasn’t the type of girl to use the word, it was more of a cock than a penis.

  Let me explain the difference.

  A penis is a male reproductive organ—one used for procreation purposes and urination only. It’s the thing that distinguishes a man from a woman. Men have a penis. Women have vaginas. It’s simple biology.

  This man did not have a penis.

  No.

  He had a cock—a thing of beauty—standing tall with the confidence that any woman who took a ride would be more than thrilled with the results. He had a cock that throbbed with want and arousal, ready to explode like a fountain of pleasure. The more I stared at it, the more my mouth watered.

  He thrust his hips closer, sliding the hard, mushroom-shaped head along my cheek. My face burned with embarrassment as the women around me screamed and threw dollar bills onto the stage. His lower abdominal muscles, the ones forming a perfect V, jerked and flexed as he moved, making my fingers itch to touch them.

  His G-string was pulled to the side to release the beast between his legs, but the rest of it stayed in place housing the money that women had stuffed in there for just a touch of him. Every now and again, a twenty would fall from his G-string, landing between his legs.

  Twenties.

  Who the hell had that kind of money?

  I closed my eyes and breathed in deep as I waited to disappear into the nothing. I don’t know what made me agree to a night out with the girls, but while I was enjoying looking at the fine, male specimen in front of me, the strip club I’d been dragged to wasn’t my thing.

  My eyes moved up, rolling across his tan abs and chest. I took note of the sexy tattoos that crawled up his sides, before my eyes landed on his pierced nipples. His neck was thick, and a tiny vein was popping out on the side from his workout.

  His jaw muscles were tight, ticking to the beat of the music he danced to, and his teeth were plunged into his bottom lip like he was seconds away from coming all over my face.

  Then my eyes met his icy blues and everything faded away. The music and women disappeared, and I saw the exact moment when he recognized me. His expression changed, his face dropping completely as his body stopped all movement.

  “Blaine?” His name lit a fire across my tongue, burning my taste buds and leaving an acrid flavor in my mouth.

  Shivers of awareness moved through me. It was him. His face was one I’d never forget. It haunted my dreams at night—kept me from dating anyone because he was all I could think about. He was all I’d ever wanted.

  His mouth moved, and I read his thick lips as he mouthed my name.

  His brows were pulled down—his eyes narrowing at me as he tilted his head and slowly backed away from the front of the stage. And then he was gone, covering his beautiful cock and taking my heart, which he’d stolen when I was seventeen, with him.

  26

  BLAINE

  CHELSEY FORD. CHELSEY FUCKING FORD.

  I couldn’t believe it was her.

  Her big, brown eyes took me in and shock filled her expression. I’d never run off stage before, but everything stopped the moment my eyes landed on hers. For the first time since I started dancing, I felt embarrassed by my job.

  I purposely worked far from home so Grandma and Maddie never had to know what I did. I worked away from home so I’d never have to feel the white hot feeling that formed in the pit of my stomach. I didn’t give two fucks what other people thought—that’s what kept me from ever feeling shame—but never in a million years did I expect to see Chelsey there.

  Once I was in the back, and I was able to catch my breath again, I fell into a chair and grabbed a towel. I wiped the sweat and the oily shit Fran gave us from my body. Throwing the towel to the side, I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes sure I was seeing things.

  It was definitely her, but what the hell was she doing in New Jersey? Much less on the shitty side of Jersey? I already knew why she was in New York.

  Columbia University.

  She made it. Not that I ever doubted she would. Unwelcomed pride filled my chest. I didn’t want to be happy for her. I didn’t want to be proud of her, but I was. I knew Chelsey could do whatever she put her heart into. I’d just wished she’d put more of her heart into me.

  I also knew Columbia was the only reason Chelsey was in New York. I wasn’t about to kid myself into thinking she’d sought me out. We hadn’t had any contact since I left Georgia, and I knew she’d never come looking for me.

  It still didn’t explain what she was doing in a strip club. My Chelsey would never be in a place like the banana. My Chelsey would never have the lust-filled look in her eyes like she’d had before the shock of who I was moved in. Then again, she wasn’t my Chelsey anymore… she never had been.

  “You good, Jack?” Tommy, the owner, came around the corner and asked.

  His dark hair was slicked back, and his porn mustache looked as if he trimmed it down some. Half the guys in the club, myself included, hated his fucking mustache, but he treated it with pride. Honestly, it only added to his slimy persona.

  Concern filled his eyes, and I knew he was more worried about his pockets than he was about whether or not there was anything wrong with me.

  The rest of the guys shuffled around the back getting ready for the next set. They basically had the same routines they danced to. Marshall was a fireman every night. Jimmy was a cop. I was the only one in the group who switched it up. I enjoyed being someone other than myself, and I took advantage of it. The boys called me the jack of all trades, and I made it work.

  I hadn’t expected to become close with the guys I worked with, but it was hard when we worked so closely together for almost a year. As fucking corny as it sounded, we were kind of like brothers, we looked out for each other here.

  Don’t get me wrong, there were still guys I worked with that I didn’t care for. I figured out early on who I could trust and who I couldn’t. The club was a down and dirty place, and some of the men who worked in it were either fucking each other over or fucking each other… literally.

  “Yeah, man. I’m good. I think I had too much to drink tonight,” I lied.

  If Tommy cared to know his employees he would’ve known I never drank.

  “Think you can make it the rest of the night? There’s already a line of ladies out there dying for a private dance from you.”

  Looking down at my quickly deflating cock, I sighed and nodded my head. I reached down and stroked it to bring it back to life, and pain moved into my balls making me hiss.

  I wasn’t about to let something like seeing Chelsey again stop me from working. I wouldn’t step foot back on the stage as long as she was in the club, but a few fucks and private dances in the back rooms would be enough to pay the bills.

  “If you stroke that thing any harder it’ll fall off,” Marshall joked as he moved past me in his fire-red thong.

  I ignored him. “I’m okay now,” I answered Tommy.

  I spent the next hour hiding in the back rooms. I danced for the women who paid and even fingered one for a quick two hundred dollars. Going to the bathroom to wash my hands afterward, I peeked out and saw Chelsey sitting with her head down at a table full of wild women.

  She was with a bachelorette party, and she was the only one in the group not dressed for sex. She looked exactly the same. Same pouty lips. Same doe eyes. Same long, brown hair. Just looking at her sparked a deep ache in my chest that I had to fight off.

  I pushed her out of my mind.

  I moved from room to room, dancing for each lady, and somehow managing to keep it strictly dancing and no fucking. Something told me I’d never be able to pull it off knowing the girl who ripped my heart out and spit on it was in the same building.

  I went into the back room waiting for the next woman, and leaned against the wall running my favorite memories of Chelsey through my mind. If I closed my eyes I could still see her smile. I could hear her sweet laughter. She wrecked me so badly—fucked up my train of thought—shock
ed my body in a way only she ever could.

  The door opened beside me, filling the dimly lit, purple room with a flash of outside light. And then she was there, standing beside me and peering into the empty space.

  She took another step into the room, and I let my eyes move over her small frame. I reached down and pushed at my hard cock. It felt wrong to be superficially hard when I knew my body wanted to respond to her naturally.

  She was small—shorter than most women—and her hair reached down her back in a cascade of brown silk. I wanted to reach out and touch her hair. I wanted to bring it to my face and smell the sweet scent that was always uniquely hers. But I knew it was wrong to want those things. It was wrong because I was never what she wanted. Just like the women around me almost every day, she’d used me.

  Closing my eyes again, I remembered the way her face looked when she was beneath me. The surprised gasp she made when I’d been the first to enter her body. I remembered the way her mouth fell open in ecstasy as I used my body to make her come over and over again. It was such a beautiful moment for me. It hurt knowing it hadn’t been beautiful for her.

  Chelsey.

  My Chelsey was there with me again.

  And then she gasped and turned to face me, and I realized I’d actually spoken her name out loud.

  Her large, dark eyes moved over me, and I felt like I was dying inside all over again.

  27

  CHELSEY

  “LYNN, LET’S JUST CALL A CAB. Please don’t make me leave you here alone in a strange place in Jersey,” I said.

  Since the moment I laid eyes on Blaine up on stage shaking his cock for all the girls in the room, I was ready to go. I wanted to leave the club. I wanted far away from Jersey and all things him.

  “Just one private dance and I promise we can go,” Lynn said with a drunken grin.

  “No.”

  I was adamant. I wasn’t trapping myself in a room with a male stripper.

  The girls we came with, whose names I’d finally learned, thought it would be funny to stick me in an uncomfortable positon. I wasn’t sure things could get more uncomfortable than the entire night had been.