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I sit on the barstool, not able to stop grinning as Diesel makes his way behind the curtain. Trying to be somewhat responsible, I order a beer and pace myself while I wait for the show to begin. If he’s stumbling around like a baby giraffe in heels—considering his tolerance is higher than mine—I’ll probably fall flat on my ass if I don’t sit for a while.
The lights flash and brighten, grabbing every person’s attention in the room, and the wannabe strippers make their way to the front. Most of them look like total douchebags, and then there’s Diesel looking like he fell off a horse with his cowboy hat and boots. The emcee, Nicole, introduces herself before explaining how this will work. Once she’s done, Nicole sends out the first guy, and I watch, feeling secondhand embarrassment for the poor dude.
“And next up, we have Diesel! He said they call him that because he’s big in all the right places. So hold on to your horses, this cowboy is ready to rock your world,” Nicole says in a flirtatious tone.
Diesel walks onto a low-lit stage to Ginuwine’s “Pony.” It’s one of the oldest, most cliché songs in the goddamn world, but I’m laughing so hard I nearly choke on my drink. He moves around like he’s been stripping for a decade, and I’m convinced the bastard needs to join Magic Mike. All the women in the club are gathered around, ready to eat him up, and he’s teasing them like he’s the whole buffet. I swear I see their tongues hanging out.
Diesel takes it to the next level and calls up one of the pretty ladies from the bachelorette party to dance with him. Placing his cowboy hat on her head, Diesel slowly removes his clothes, piece by piece. She’s absolutely mesmerized, tracing her fingers across his abs. My mouth falls open, and my eyes widen in shock when he slips down his pants and reveals a man thong.
“Jesus Christ. He’s never living this shit down,” I whisper as he sings the lyrics to the thirsty group who are ready to fuck him in front of everyone. As the song ends, fifty or more women scream out for more of Diesel.
“Well, it looks like someone’s a professional,” Nicole taunts as Diesel picks up his clothes and steps off the stage.
One by one, the other guys come out and do their thing. They don’t compare or have the charisma Diesel exuded. After each performance, those watching aren’t wooed and surprisingly continue to chant his name for an encore. When the last guy finishes, Nicole calls everyone back and has them line up on the stage.
“I don’t think it’s a surprise who’s going to win this contest tonight,” Nicole says as the audience continues to scream Diesel’s name. Ridiculous as it seems, it’s like he somehow put a spell on every person in the room.
“Diesel! Come get your money, honey!” Nicole finally says. “And if you want a job, you’re hired,” she tells him. Diesel takes his prize and grabs the mic to give his version of a corny acceptance speech.
“I just want to thank my best friend, Riley, who’s sitting over there.” The bastard points in my direction, and all heads turn and look at me. Asshole. “He’s always wanted to see my package, so tonight, big boy, this one was for you,” he tells me, then cups himself. I flip him off, and he laughs.
“Don’t worry, y’all. I’m only into the ladies, so call me.” He smirks and walks off the stage, then heads toward me. I turn around and order us both a beer because I’m gonna need it to get through the rest of the night with him.
“I can’t believe you actually won,” I say as he plops down on the stool next to me.
“Maybe I’ll quit the ranch and move to Vegas,” he teases, happily taking the beer to chug it.
“Yeah, and your mama would kill you,” I remind him.
Looking over my shoulder, I catch sight of the beautiful blonde I saw earlier. This time, though, she’s looking right at me, smiling and biting her bottom lip.
I fully turn around and mouth, “Hi.”
She gives me a sexy wave with an eyebrow popped, and she’s looking at me like I’m the sweetest piece of candy she’s ever seen. I swallow down the lump in my throat, wanting to go to her but feel as if I’m standing in concrete. Girls like her don’t exist back home.
Diesel’s running his mouth about something, and I turn to tell him to give me a second because I need to find out every detail about her.
“I’ll be right back,” I interrupt, and he rolls his eyes. When I glance back, she’s gone, and I’m left wondering if I’ll see her again.
The next morning, I wake up with a slight hangover, but nothing a couple of ibuprofen won’t fix. We’re both starving, so we get dressed and go find breakfast. No matter how much I try to shake the thoughts of last night, I can’t seem to get that gorgeous woman out of my mind. It feels as if she were a dream, some figment of my imagination. An electric current was pulling me toward her, and I’ve never felt anything like that before.
