by HJ Bellus
“I took like four shots on the way here.”
“Ava, you lush.” Chloe slaps my arm.
“You know me.” I shrug.
“Everything okay?”
Chloe worries too much for her own good, so I decide to omit part of the truth. “Just a bit concerned about finding a job, you know?”
No, she doesn’t know. I love my Chloe Bug to death, but she’s marrying into the rich, prominent blood and doesn’t have to worry about putting her college degree to use. Hell, she majored in Political Science only to help her future spouse out if he ever runs for Congress. It’s a game I’ve been drowned in and I’m sick of it.
“Yeah, it’s crazy to think we are no longer college party animals and now have to really go out in the real world.”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes in the darkness of the night, hoping none of the neon lights catch the reflection.
“Pit stop number one, bitches.” Darby races in front of us and swings open the door to bar number one, paying the cover charges for our gang.
The inside of the club is cloaked in thumping music, the scent of sweat, and the abundance of liquor. Darby races to our reserved table and waves for the first round of shots. It goes down as easy as the first sip of Fireball and then I’m on the dance floor.
My cowboy boots may stick out in the crowd, but they make love to the dance floor to any type of music. I roam from side to side of the large wooden floor, trying not to get entangled by any men. My horny bunch of friends have attracted most of them.
Janet Jackson’s hypnotic voice booms through the speakers, encouraging my hips to sway with the beat of the song and the only thing I can focus on are those damn blue eyes that seem to keep haunting me. Zane. The man proved to be a raging dick today and then turned around and was the hero of the day.
My eyes lazily drift shut as my hips sway to the beat and Zane’s arms wrap around my middle. My breasts collide into his hard chest and his breath tickles the tender skin behind my ear. His large palm roams up the middle of my back until it reaches the back of my neck and he grips tight. Each of his fingers dig into my skin until I squirm under his touch and moan out loud. Then it’s my hair he takes in his hand and winds between his fingers, pulling it until it feels like perfection and I don’t know if I want to moan or rip his clothes from his god-like body.
“Ava.”
His voice pulls me from his hypnotic trance.
“Ava.”
This time I know it’s not his voice. My eyes spring open in shock and I come face to face with the group of girls. And I realize it’s not Janet’s voice singing anymore and a hip-hop voice booming over the speakers and a whole new crowd on the dance floor.
“Ready to go?” Chloe asks.
I can only manage to nod my head and follow the clan out the door and into the crisp night air. My purse lays wide open in the front seat of the taxi. I snag the bottle of water from it and begin to chug. The girls in the back toast to the night, their crotches, and everything else between.
Mindlessly, I run my hand over my kneecap and wonder what in the hell just happened to me. Then I run my sweaty palm over my forehead. Yep, it’s my knee that I busted open earlier today and not my head. Then why in the hell did I just nearly get off on the dance floor with Zane? I’ve seen the guy twice. Once with his dick out and the other with him being the dick.
Bar after bar we hop around to and I take it easy on the alcohol and become the designated purse and drink watcher. The music entertains me as do the drunken bodies on the dance floor. It only feels like minutes pass, but when I check my phone it’s nearly midnight.
“Okay, bitches, one more stop before closing time.” Darby winks at me and I know what’s coming up next.
I’m thankful I’ve been chugging the h2o and not the devil’s juice. Jesus, at the rate I was going, I’d be up on the stage dancing with the fucking male strippers, trying to hump one of their legs.
The taxi ride is only a short few blocks away and I indulge in the shots with the girls to try to wipe away the sleep threatening to attack my eyes. When Darby declares bottoms up, bitches, I have no choice but to join in. It’s a college rule, whoever doesn’t finish has to pick up the tab next time. My parents aren’t as generous with their money since my dad’s accounts are constantly monitored and inspected at every level. His end goal is the White House.
“What is this place?” Chloe slurs out.
“The last stop,” the girls announce.
Chloe may be past her legal limit, but I watch the light bulbs slowly turn on and her face go pale as the girls shove her past me. I let the door shut behind me and pay the cover charge with the money Darby slipped me. As soon as I step foot in the place, I really wish I’d kept drinking and having wet dreams over the asshole, Zane. I’m way too fucking sober for a place like this.
With my luck, it will be senior citizen night and only male strippers over ninety. The mere thought causes me to gag and also reminds my bladder it needs to be relieved.
“Hey, Darby.” I catch her attention and do my best sign language, letting her know I’m heading to the bathroom. However, I’m pretty sure I just told an elf to fuck off in real sign language.
The club is beyond packed with standing room only. Darby secured a table at the front all decorated up with bachelorette shit from cock straws, sashes, and crowns. Even if it’s senior citizen night, the old fuckers won’t be able to miss us.
I laugh out loud at my own joke and am thankful when I twirl around in the dark hall that no one is around to witness it. My boots slide gracefully on the slick vinyl and I do it again letting out a little squeal of delight. You’re only young once, right? A few moves come out that should never come out of a white girl in boots which causes me to laugh even harder.
It may be a strip club, but the environment is electric and the setting could cause any mood to heighten and the fucking strippers haven’t even graced the stage. I force out one more epic move. The ball of my boot spins around on the floor and then I break out into the running man, cackling even louder. A slice of common sense hits me and I wonder if I’ve lost my last marble.
The running man is the death of me. I try to pivot and do the running man facing the wall when the music takes a sharp tempo change and BAM! I lose all footing and fly into the air. Not so funny now as the joke is on me. Carpet, carpet, carpet! Oh, Jesus I shouldn’t be praying for carpet in a strip club. All the wrong images assault my vision of shaggy carpets, but they’d feel so soothing on my scraped up knee.
And right before I gracefully face plant on the floor, I wonder exactly what in the fuck Darby put in my flask.
“Nice show,” a deep voice echoes in the hallway.
Fingers dig into my biceps and knees, catching my legs until I’m in a standing position. At first, I am a bit wobbly then every thing appears crystal clear. I blink once and then twice and then probably a fourteenth time to make sure it’s the same blue eyes standing before me. I mean, I seriously just imaginary dry humped these blue eyes.
I raise a finger and try to poke at his eyeball, but the face moves backwards. The dark hall, my dumbass idea of auditioning for Madonna’s back up dancer, and the fucking whiskey Darby put in my flask swirl together.
“Zane.” My lips are dry and stick together when I try to speak his name.
“Ava.” His voice is cool and confident.
“I have to pee like super duper really bad.” I cross my boots at the ankle and squeeze my thighs shut, forcing my faucet off.
“You were just dancing.”
“I think I wiggled my pee down the wrong tube.”
His deep laughter fills the hall and shocks the living shit out of me. If I’m being honest, I just tinkled a bit or was that a bit of other excitement stemming from me.
“Bathroom.” Zane pushes open the swinging door to a one stall empty bathroom.
“Is this the men’s?” I ask and crane my head around to the front of the door.
“Nope, women’
s.”
“Why’s it empty?” I ask, crossing my boots once again at the ankles.
“I’m thinking the Ava pee pee dance may have scared a few people away.”
“Was it that bad?” I clench my thighs tighter together.
He only shrugs and offers up a half smile. Yep, the fucker is drop dead sexy just like the men who invade your dreams in the middle of the night and you end up sitting on their face and yelling out dirty, dirty things in your sleep.
“Well, go pee.” He points to the toilet that’s open for the world to see.
“Leave.”
“I don’t want to.”
His words cut through the crisp air, nailing me in the gut.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because I’ve wanted to kiss that fucking smirk off your face since you walked in on me in the bathroom and stared at my cock.”
“I did not stare…” I don’t even finish my sentence before his lips are on mine and his hands tangle in my hair. My body goes limp and defenseless as he assaults my mouth lick after lick.
His tongue darts into my mouth, gliding along my teeth and then dips low in the back of my mouth. He absorbs my moans and clutches to me with his fists. I manage to pull back and stick my finger out as if to poke him in the eye and when he flinches, I know it’s real.
“What in the fuck?” he whispers onto my lips, dipping his face back down to mine.
“Making sure you’re real.”
“Why wouldn’t I be real?”
I shrug, growing shy all the sudden.
“Ava.” His deep voice sends chills up my spine and demands attention.
“I, uh, I…”
“You what?” He lifts me to sit on the bathroom counter and takes a step back, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The fucker knows he’s punishing me. Putting me in a timeout corner.
“I was at another club tonight and I closed my eyes and felt you on me.” I fidget with my fingers and fixate my stare on them. “It felt so real, Zane, and now this.”
The sound of his footsteps nearing me again causes me to quake with want and need. I’m no virgin, but no club whore either. I have no idea what in the hell has happened to me or the trance he’s cast over me, but all I know in his presence like this in a tiny space, it’s all too intoxicating.
The heat of his palms cover the top of my exposed thigh. I contain the moan dying to escape me and then feel his palms roam up my thighs until my short skirt covers both of his hands. I look down and study his strong forearms and the way his muscles flex when he dips his fingers underneath my barely there panties.
“I know your type.” His voice breaks the sexy tension in the room. “I can spot you a mile away. Rich little college girls here for the summer with no worries in the world besides what brand name bikini they’re going to lay out in.”
My spine bristles with his harsh statement. “You don’t know shit.”
His fingers dive deeper into my panties until the pad of his finger is rubbing light circles around my clit and he has me melting into him.
“You here with your chicks to celebrate someone’s bachelorette party?”
I bite my lower lip and swallow my pleas and then only nod my head yes.
“I used to eat little girls like you for breakfast.”
The bundle of nerves grows to a painful state before I’m falling over the edge and letting go all over his hand. But damn if the mean and very hot fucker is going to get moans of approval. I keep one palm placed on the counter steadying myself and then in one swift motion, I clutch the back of his head gripping onto his hair and slamming his face to mine.
Anger and lust swirl around in me as my lips meet his. I don’t wait for him to make the first move this time. My lips devour his, soaking up his masculine taste while my tongue darts in his mouth, circling it lazily. I lap every single ounce of his taste I can find before I reach down and cup his hardened cock through his jeans.
I pull back slowly, not wanting our mouths to part. I’m shocked when he stands there frozen. I leave one peck to the center of his lips and then on each corner.
The hold on his cock tightens and I feel him grow even harder under my touch. “I know men like you, Zane. Too big of a pussy to make a commitment and too big of an asshole to tell a lady she’s pretty.”
Slowly, I let my body slide down off the counter until the tip of my boots hit the tiled floor. Zane closes the space between us, planting his palms on the counter behind me, trapping me. He leans in and smells my hair and then brushes the tip of his nose along the sensitive skin on the side of my neck.
“I don’t date and I definitely don’t do what I just did in here. You’re not my type.” He sinks his teeth into the side of my neck and lets out a sexy growl.
“Too bad for you.” I duck under his one arm. “I was going to let you get me off with that giant cock next time.”
I don’t wait for his reaction before turning my back on him and placing my palm around the front of my neck. My sanity fights to slow down my heart rate, but the more I replay the epic game of cat and mouse that ensued in here, it only heightens. The slamming of the bathroom door causes me to flinch and when I whirl around, I’m all alone.
Quickly, I lock the door to the bathroom and pee. I’ve gone fucking insane. I had to have imagined that, right. A cool shiver runs up the length of my spine as Zane’s woodsy scent hits me. No way in hell I just imagined that and what in the hell was I thinking letting him get me off?
The really pathetic part hits me when I wash my hands…I wanted more of him. All of him. Those piercing blue eyes staring down at me as he worked his way in and out of me. I’ve seen his dick and now I want it.
I place the back of my hand to my forehead and wonder what in the hell has got into me. I’ve never before in my life reacted to a man like that. Zane, those blue eyes, and harsh voice have me screwed over because I have a feeling that I’ll never be able to get enough of the man.
“Where the hell have you been?” Chloe stands up with her hand on her hips.
“Had to poop?” Darby asks, pulling a seat out for me.
Before my ass cheeks even hit the seat of my chair, Chloe is ripping into me about bringing her to a strip club. I only manage to nod as nothing but Zane soaks into my brain. His smell and stare…holy fuck me.
I interrupt Chloe in mid-sentence. “Hey, have you guys seen Rhett here? You know the guy from the pizza place today?”
They both shake their heads and then give me a prying stare. They wait for an explanation but it never comes because the thumping music, strobe lights, and deafening catcalls overpower them. I relax back in my seat, feeling more fidgety than before and I know it’s because I need more of him right now. That sampler was in no way, shape or form enough to satisfy my appetite for him.
What in the hell is wrong with you, Ava? Mid-life, graduated college crisis. I’ve never been so attracted to a man or spread my legs for one in a public bathroom.
The tall glass of brown liquid in front of me with condensation running down all the sides entrances me. The liquid pools around the base of the glass, reminding me of the way Zane just had me in the bathroom. My insides coo just thinking of his mere presence and scent.
Man, I need to get laid.
The drink flows down easily; the strong taste of Jack Daniels burns all the way down, and relaxes me a bit more. Another one or two go down before the first performer hits the stage. He’s tall, lean, and very good-looking with sexy-ass moves to boot. He’s definitely killing the entertainment aspect as he’s bathed in dollar bills.
I zone out a bit on the next couple of performances and then finally excuse myself to get another drink at the bar and pee, again.
Darby cups her hands around my ear and tries to scream over the noise of the club. “Where are you going?”
I point to the bathroom.
“Hurry back. Lap dances are coming up next.”
I only nod and begin weaving my way through the thick crowd. Our t
able is front and center near the stage. Waves and waves of women have flocked around the stage and the funny thing is, they all vary in age. I guess hot men and sex never get old.
The cool air of the bathroom hits my flushed cheeks and I’m a bit disappointed when Zane doesn’t interrupt me. I do my business and then wash my hands and log into Facebook on my phone and search his first name and this town, but come up empty handed. He made it clear that he doesn’t date, but hell, I’d take a repeat of our encounter in the bathroom.
A barely dressed waiter follows me back to our table with a tray full of drinks; I tip him and then take my seat right next to the stage.
“Shots!” Darby screams. I fucking swear that girl is like the Energizer bunny.
“To Chloe!” I holler, and raise my glass in the air and knock back the little fucker and then chase it with my Jack and Coke.
The room suddenly spins and the atmosphere of the club finally smacks me in the face. I’m up on my feet cheering and screaming for the next performer with the rest of the sex-crazed women.
A deep voice booms over the speaker system as the stage goes dark. “It’s that time, ladies. The moment you’ve all waited for. He’s here and ready to dance, but the only question is, are you ladies ready for Boss Z?”
The screams are deafening and the dollar bills fly in the air. One by one the lights bordering the stage flicker on.
“I’m not sure if he hears you, ladies.”
The floor vibrates this time with a chorus of screams and more dollar bills fly. An overhead light flips on and the strumming guitar of a popular song begins. Then the high pitch squeal of Axl Rose overpowers the announcer. The main event dancer slowly saunters out onto the stage with his face toward the stage and his flat bill cap covering his features.
My vision remains glued to the man. There’s something about his strut and build that makes the rest of the strippers look very amateur. When the song picks up, he lazily drags the hem of his white V-neck up his chiseled abs and then does a quick three-sixty spin.
It may be the alcohol playing tricks on my eyes or the man just spun, got his shirt off, and turned his ball cap backwards in one simple movement. He plants both of his feet in a wide stance, rocking his hips back and forth while rubbing his hands in a naughty gesture up and down his torso.