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“You see the ass on that waitress? You don’t see bodies like that in New York.” His eyes follow after the waitress, practically breaking his neck to get a better view. Ryan is always looking for his next catch. I think I’m a manwhore, but Ryan is on a completely different level. He oozes swagger and confidence, plus his charm doesn’t hurt. My guess is that women are a major factor in his wanting to buy a nightclub.
I breathe into my glass, “I’ll pass tonight. But I’m guessing you’re going to take your pick?” Normally I would be all for getting my dick wet, but the tight feeling in my chest is putting me off chasing tail. Just being in this city is dragging up memories.
“Oh well, more for me.” Ryan slaps my shoulder as he flops down on the velvet couch and looks down at the throng of people below. I reach up and undo the first two buttons of my shirt. I need to relax. I discreetly wave my hand in the air, signaling another two fingers of whiskey.
Chicago is home, but it is not where I want to be. My childhood consisted of a negligent mom and an alcoholic father who was more violent than not while drunk, and he was always drunk. It’s a miracle my brother Seth and I got out whole.
While Ryan chats up a blond who has made her way up to the VIP section, I think back on our meeting. The numbers on this place financially make sense and I am all about financial gain. If it is what Ryan wants to do, then I can’t say no. Sure, it could use some face-lifting and heavy promotion, but the money doesn’t lie. I pull out my phone, sending a quick message to Alyssa, my assistant, to contact marketing regarding the club.
Looking around the dimly lit VIP area, I can see the owner has fine taste. Thick black velvet curtains cover the walls which add to a sensual atmosphere. There are several sectioned-off private booths, each discreet enough that no one would be able to eavesdrop or interrupt. The bar is backlit in red lighting, casting a sexy glow around the entire area. Small candles are placed throughout the space, adding to the ambiance. I wouldn’t have to change much up here.
I stare down over the glass railing, watching the writhing bodies on the dance floor. My eyes unconsciously skim the crowd for a conquest. While I dislike going to clubs, they serve a purpose. Everyone comes here for something: alcohol, dancing, sex. Wants are easy to decipher. I usually grab some shots, scan the floor, and zero in on whoever piques my interest. Make some small talk, maybe buy a drink or two, ask if she wants to get out of here, and head back to my place. It’s all shallow and vapid, but we both get what we want from the exchange.
Suddenly my gaze snags, something in the crowd pulling at my attention. What was it? I quickly do another scan and I see it again. A slender wrist with a shiny thick gold bracelet catches the light and reflects it in my direction. Curious, I follow the arm of the woman until I can see the top of her head. Her back is to me, the movement of bodies blocks me from seeing the rest of her. There is something about this girl that won’t let my focus drift. So I watch as she tilts her head back, moving to the beat of the music. I’m entranced.
Almost as if I am caught up in a spell, I make my way down the stairs to the dance floor. My eyes never waver from her as I snake my way through the crowd. People are everywhere, writhing and twinning with the beat. I deftly make my way through the throng until I can see her outline.
She is wearing a form-fitting white dress. A dress that is begging to be taken off. Her light brown hair flows down her back, ending just beneath her shoulder blades. She has an ass to die for, and I might be willing to sacrifice myself for it.
Not wanting to keep myself separated from her, I make my way toward her. She is dancing with another woman, who throws her head back, laughing. Their joy is palpable from here. I want to see that joy cross her face.
I maneuver myself around to get a better look. The world falls silent as I take in her face. Her grin lights up her face, her dark eyes sparkling. She twists her hips, one arm in the air. The same arm with the bracelet that caught my attention. Her lips are painted a glorious pink that has me wondering what color pink her pussy is, my cock twitching at the thought. My eyes trail downward. Her dress is low-cut enough to show off her cleavage, round and bouncing as she dances. This woman has curves in all the right places. Her waist is narrow, accentuated by hips that are begging me to grab onto. Christ, it’s like this woman was made for me. The most tempting and mouth-watering feast.
Chapter 2
Everly
The thirty-minute drive to the nightclub Mel favors wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. She drove, of course, which is just fine with me.
I rub my arms as we make our way into the club. I didn’t bother wearing a coat tonight, it’d just get in the way and I don’t feel like messing with the coat check. It’s not like we would be standing out in freezing cold temperatures for a long time. Our earlier drinking has done a well enough job of warming me up anyway.
I am a bit self-conscious as I peer around at all the other gorgeous girls who decided to come out on a cold night like us. They are all wearing 5-inch heels, with legs up to their necks, perky tits, and expertly done makeup. I look down at the dress I packed for just this purpose. The dress flatters my curves, which is why I picked it. I tend to stay away from dresses due to how they make me feel about my body, but not this one. It does a great job of showing off my boobs, which are honestly the main attraction. The neckline is a little lower than I am comfortable with, but who cares? As the saying goes “If you got it, flaunt it.” So I do.
I opted to leave my straight hair down, cascading down around me. I’m not much of a make-up person, but I’ve watched a tutorial or two and know the basics. I went for a smokey eye and light on the lip color, going for a more natural shade with a bit of gloss. What brings the whole outfit together is the thick gold bracelet Mel let me borrow. My overall look is simple, but I feel comfortable and confident.
We glide our way over to the bar, Mel already getting the attention of the bartender and yelling out our order. Mel knows it takes getting some drinks in me to get me out on the dance floor. We are lucky that we stopped by for some fast food on the way here. We definitely need something in our stomachs to help soak up all the alcohol.
The bartender places down 2 tequila shots. “What are you doing to me?” I groan as I reach for my glass. Tequila isn’t my favorite, but Mel is in charge tonight and I am just along for the ride.
“I’m bringing you to the dark side.” She laughs loudly, grinning at me while holding her shot out towards me. “Bottoms up.” We both down the shots and wince as the alcohol makes its way down our throats.
I can already tell that I am on the edge of being tipsy. As I scan the bar area, I can feel the tension ease as the alcohol works its way through my body, methodically relaxing me as it does.
This is the sweet spot for me. I’m not drunk, God knows I hate being drunk. I am just relaxed enough to lower my guard and to let loose. I stop caring so much about what other people think of me, how I look, and what I say. I can have full conversations with strangers and not feel like I am doing or saying anything awkward or wrong.
Mel reaches out for my hand and is practically dragging me out onto the dance floor. I enjoy dancing. Let me rephrase, I enjoy dancing in the privacy of my own home. But almost tipsy Everly doesn’t care. I will go out and dance like no one is watching and not be worried about it. I can put all my carefully honed skills to use. I sashay my hips to the beat as we maneuver our way into the perfect spot, hands linked, right smack in the middle of the dance floor.
I let the music take over, my body moving to the deafening beat. I close my eyes and soak up the feeling overcoming me. The pleasure of releasing all the anxiety and stress that has been my constant companion these past months is intoxicating. I needed this.
My sister and I dance close to each other, sometimes linking hands and swaying our hips together. Mel is a way better dancer than me, and I don’t mind the spotlight being on her. She dances with several attractive men, while I just mind my own business, enjoying myself. I tilt my head back, utterly relaxed, and raise my bracelet-clad arm in the air, twisting and swaying my hips.
I suddenly get this tingle on the back of my neck, almost like someone is watching me. I pay it no mind and continue to dance. Nothing could pull me from this moment.
The tingly sensation doesn’t go away though. Instead, it gets stronger. Now it has traveled down my body, setting my nerves on fire. It’s a strange sensation, one I’ve never felt before. I slowly lower my head and open my eyes only to be staring straight into the eyes of the most beautiful man I have ever seen.
I drag my eyes down his large frame. His broad shoulders are sculpted by the tight black dress shirt accentuating the muscles of his lean torso, cuffs rolled up his forearms, the top two buttons undone offering a spattering of chest hair. His long legs are covered in form-fitting dress slacks, and he is wearing quite possibly the most expensive pair of shoes I have ever seen.
I pull my eyes back up to his glorious face. His chin-length dark curly hair is slicked straight back. His eyes, boring into mine, are so blue they appear gray. His cheeks are peppered with dark stubble that is purposeful because I immediately know everything this man does is with a purpose. He exudes confidence, bordering on arrogance, which oddly enough makes him even more attractive to me.
