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ONE
THEO
Fuck, I need to get laid.
If I didn’t find a woman in this bar to fuck tonight, I’d lose my mind. I was overworked and stressed beyond belief. I had no time to focus on the finer things in life. I almost forgot what the inside of a pussy felt like. Lately, I felt this champion cock I owned between my legs was just for show.
Two words:
Fuck.
That.
Nectar was packed when I stepped inside; pink and purple neon lights blinded my eyes as they swept the room. Women in leopard-print leotards hung from giant swings as the loud bass shook the floor beneath my feet. I found Xavier, my friend, at the bar with a shot of Macallan in his hand. He passed it to me as I nodded.
With my drink in hand, I ‘surveyed the land’ as it were. A curvy brunette, wearing painted on jeans with red heels, smiled at me. She took a small sip of her Cosmo and the lipstick stain left behind on the glass matched her sexy shoes. She was pretty. She was absolutely fuckable. Let’s be honest, most men aren’t even that damn picky, but tonight I craved above average. It’s why I picked Nectar—the hottest place to be on a Friday night—but while sexy, curvaceous asses and pumped up plastic tits painted the room like a surgeon’s personal advertisement billboard, I wanted something closer to the liquor in my hand. I wanted a girl fresh out the damn bottle, warm in my mouth, burning on the way down, and fucking me up until I couldn’t see straight. I wanted the good shit.
A raven-haired beauty, in a skimpy dress leaving nothing to the imagination, and fuck me stilettos, locked eyes with me. The hot pink-stained cheeky smile she flashed my way did nothing for me…total stage five clinger potential. Pass.
I nodded, and continued studying the club.
My eyes drifted to a group of girls celebrating across the bar—a bachelorette party. Penis straws in their mouths, pink boas around their necks, and falling off the barstools drunk. Double Pass.
“It’s getting late. I might head out,” Xavier, said, glancing at his gold Rolex. He grabbed his Corona by the neck and took a long pull.
“It’s South Beach, this city doesn’t come alive until well after midnight.”
“There’s not much action here tonight. But, you stay, relax, you deserve it.” His eyes drifted to the crowded dance floor. “The sale is a shoo-in; you’ll be the proud owner of the Bearded Goat within a few months.”
“Thanks, man. Yeah, it’s been stressful as fuck these past few days.” I lifted my glass and took a sip, letting the liquor ease the tension in my shoulders.
He laughed, chugging his beer, and spun in his seat to slam the empty bottle on the bar.
“I think I got the brunt of your stress.” Xavier, also my lawyer, had been busy working his ass off for me. He scoured over paperwork and legal documents making sure I got the best deal possible.
“Fuck you, buddy. It’s my ass on the line here. First thing I’m doing with the bar is changing the fucking name.” I threw some cash to the bartender and returned my attention back to him. “Bearded Goat, really? Why not call it the lamest bar in Miami?”
“Think about it, one day you can have a place just like this.” He lifted his arms, pointing to the bright lights of Nectar that showcased the energy of the nightclub.
I grinned, turning to rest my elbows against the bar. “I’m sure my place will be a hell of a lot better.” My eyes traveled around as I scoped the joint once more. Yeah, my club would be much nicer. I could see it all now. I would soon own South Beach. How hard could running a bar be? I’d never failed at anything I’d gone after before, and this time wouldn’t be any fucking different.
“On second thought,” Xavier said, eyes trained on the party of pink madness a few yards away,
“I’m going to join the action over there.”
I nodded, and watched him stalk over to make his play on one of the bachelorettes from the party. She offered him a drink from her penis straw and laughed when he grabbed it and directed it back to her mouth, shaking his head. I grinned—what an idiot.
“Hi…what’s your name?” a drunk plastic blonde asked, as she slid onto the stool next to me, arms hanging around my neck. Her platinum hair hung straight and fell past her tits. She leaned in closer, giving me a glimpse straight down her plum-colored, v-neck dress to her manufactured cleavage.
“Theo.” I threw back my whiskey, and signaled the bartender for another before turning to face her.
