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Georgia nodded. “Yeah, let’s fucking do it. No way we’re letting our girl drink by herself.”
Fifteen minutes and two promises of blow jobs later, Georgia, Christin, and I were headed to Barcelona Bar. The second we arrived, I ordered three Harry Potter shots and convinced the house band to play Boys by Britney Spears. We downed the shots and hopped on stage, dancing and singing our asses off.
Homegirl was a bit of a freak on the floor, dropping it real low and bringing it back with a hypnotic shake of her hips. She was getting looks from all sides of the room, but the drummer behind her seemed to be showing the most interest. He was hot by all accounts—defined arms, chiseled jawline and a pair of sexy-as-hell green eyes that would’ve had me licking my lips and fluffing my boobs back in the day.
Yeah, he was all man, and it was safe to say, Christin’s night was about to take a huge change for the better.
I glanced at Georgia and nodded toward the drummer’s eyes. Eyes that were locked on our friend’s ass-ets.
Georgia grinned and danced with Christin while simultaneously leading her closer and closer to the drummer. The second the backs of her thighs hit the side of the drummer’s legs, Georgia went in for the kill, bumping Christin with her hips and forcing her to fall into his lap. He barely missed a beat, adjusting her between his thighs and drumming around her body.
She glanced up into his hypnotizing green eyes and he smirked, offering a sexy wink in her direction.
Christin stayed like that—perched right between the drummer’s thighs—while Georgia and I were content to watch from the bar. Between sets he’d whisper into her ear and she’d reciprocate with a flirty giggle and grin. By the last few songs of the night, his strong hands were wrapped around hers as he taught her how to bang it out on the drums.
I had a feeling that wasn’t going to be the only banging before the night was through.
And that feeling was made truth when they announced last call and Christin met us at the bar as we gathered our purses and called a cab.
“So, I’m going to go home with Channing,” she whispered.
“Excuse me?” I asked. “That drummer’s name is Channing?”
Christin nodded and a wicked smile curved her pretty lips upward.
Georgia burst into laughter.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I muttered.
Christin’s expression changed to confused.
“You’ll have to excuse Cassie, but she has a thing for names, and well, Channing is like her name if you know what I’m sayin’.”
Christin giggled. “It’s a hot name.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “You get to go bang the hot drummer named Channing and I have to head home to deal with the Jolly Green Giant.”
“Who also happens to be named Thatch and has a dick the size of my forearm,” Christin added.
I thought it over for a few seconds.
“Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just re-name his dick Channing and I’ll be set for the night.”
Georgia gestured for the door. “Come on, crazy. Our cab’s here.”
As we hugged Christin goodbye, Channing stepped up to our group and wrapped his hand around her waist. “You ladies our bloody fantastic dancers,” he said in a sexy British accent.
“Oh for the love of porn GIFs!” I shouted and held both hands out in the air. “Drummer? Channing? British?”
A confused yet amused grin spread across his full lips.
Georgia laughed and pushed me toward the door before I could say anything else. “Have fun tonight!” she called over her shoulder.
I glanced back to find Channing leaning against the bar with his arms locked around Christin, while his lips gave her one insanely hot kiss.
Yeah, our work here was done.
Christin and Channing.
Lucky bitch.
Cynthia’s eyes met mine across the common area as John sang to Melissa, and they weren’t the least bit amused.
“Baby, who wants to love me sexy, uh?” John sang from his knees, grabbing at Melissa’s hips and forcing her to dance along to the imaginary music.
I wanted to smile because John might have been clown, but it still took a certain amount of both balls and interest to shamelessly serenade a woman in front of a crowd. You had to be willing to subject yourself to whatever humiliation came your way at whatever price it came.
But I could see the wheels spinning in Cynthia’s mind with every word John sang. And her thoughts weren’t focused on the lyrics. Instead, they were fueled by Human Resource’s policies and procedures regarding conduct in the workplace.
“Baby, are you ready to lick me sexy uh uh.”
This is all your fault, Kline Brooks, I could practically hear her brain shouting at me.
