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My head sling shots up. His expression unreadable. “Okay? Cool. Thanks, man.” A wide grin covers my face. I wasn’t expecting it to be that easy. This might be a good night after all. I take a step forward, but his arm is still blocking my way. I duck down to try and crawl under, but it’s too tight of a squeeze. Standing to my full height, I peer down. “Your arm’s still in the way.”
He snarls his lip. “Get the fuck out of here. No wristband. No entry.”
The smile falls from my face. Can’t one thing go my way for once? Now might be a good time to follow through with the bribe. I shove my hand back into my pocket to find the five again when a fight breaks out to my left. The big, burly guy mutters under his breath before pushing me aside to take care of the situation.
My gaze darts to the open stairway, then back to where the big, burly bouncer is manhandling one guy while fending off another. If I’m going to end up getting man handled like that, I might as well get a drink first. Without a second look, I climb the stairs. I only make it a few steps before I’m stopped again. Except this time instead of a burly guy, I’m greeted by an auburn-haired bombshell in a tan sequined mini dress. One look at her and instantly I forget all about the whiskey sour. Hell, I forget my own name.
“Finally, you’re here.”
“Oh. Um.”Play it cool, Van. Don’t let the hot girl get you tongue tied.“Of course, where else would I be?” I flash her a dimpled smile.
“No, seriously. You’re an hour late. The least you could’ve done was call. We have a group of girls who are ready to see you take your clothes off. Let’s go.” Her dainty fingers wrap around my wrist. The warm contact sends a current of electricity coursing through my body as she tugs me up the stairs.
“Wait.” I plant my feet. “What are you talking about? Take my clothes off? I think I deserve dinner before I get naked.” I flash her a seductive smile.
“Dinner? Are you kidding? We weren’t told we had to feed you.” She drops my hand and rests it on her hip. “Look, we have a thousand dollars for you plus tips, if you're good, to take your clothes off and shake your ass while we all ooh and ahh over your ripped abs. You have ripped abs, right?” She lifts the hem of my shirt, exposing my hard six pack. “Oh yes, that’ll do.” Her gaze lingers on my exposed stomach for a few extra seconds before she reluctantly drops the fabric. “So, are you coming or am I calling your boss to tell him you won’t do your job?”
Fuck. She thinks I’m a stripper for her party. But it pays a thousand dollars plus tips. Since I’m jobless, I could use the cash. I wager the battle in my head for a split second and, fuck it. First time for everything. “Lead the way.”
She spins around and climbs the stairs, the shimmering sequins on the ass of her dress hypnotizing as her hips sway back and forth. As the giggles and laughter grow louder, I second guess myself. I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve gotten naked before, just never with more than one girl watching.
“Our entertainment has arrived!” the bombshell announces to her friends. All their heads turn my way and I give them a small wave and sheepish smile, still not entirely sure how this is going to play out. A blonde comes up and introduces herself as Olivia. She directs me to an area next to the bar where I can get ready and let the bartender know what music I want played. I strut to the curtained area as if I know what I’m doing, when in reality, a bead of sweat pricks my temple. After I’m on the other side of the curtained room, I peek my head through and get the attention of the bartender and order another whiskey sour. She passes the drink to me, and I slam it. I’m going to need a lot of extra liquid courage for this.
I take one shoe off and kick it to the side. Wait, do I take my shoes off? It’s not like I have pants that easily rip off. Unless you’re Arnold Schwarzenegger; I bet he could rip my pants off. Then again, I wouldn’t want him ripping anything off me. I side shuffle to collect my shoe and slide it back on. Reaching for my phone in my back pocket, I pull it out and search for stripper playlists. There has to be something out there. After I get somewhat of a list together, I pass it along to the bartender. She glances at the list, and then up to me and shakes her head with a smile. All I can do is shrug my shoulders because fuck if I know what I’m doing. I need this to be convincing enough that they give me the cash and I can bolt out of here.
The bartender hits a button and smoked glass descends from the ceiling. The noise from the downstairs club grows quieter and quieter until the glass locks into place on the floor. Silence fills the room.Holy shit. That’s fancy as fuck.
The first note of “Pony” by Ginuwine thumps through the speakers. An eruption of hoots and hollers come from the girls. I guess I’m doing this. I peel back the curtain and make my grand entrance as a group sits in a semi-circle on the couch while the others occupy the armchairs. Mentally, I come up with a game plan. First, I’ll hit up the girls on the couch and then the ones in the chairs. I suppose I should do something extra special for whoever the party is for. But I really want to go after the auburn-haired bombshell I met earlier. I’ve heard that if someone is a good dancer, then they’re good in bed. Well, I’m good in bed, scratch that, phenomenal in bed, so I must be a good dancer.
I saunter to the couch first and swivel my hips while lifting the hem of my shirt so they get a glimpse of my abs. Can’t give everything away right from the start. Gotta keep them wanting more. One girl’s eyes go wide as another has a grin that splits her face. Another shoves a few dollars into the waistband of my jeans. When I get to the last girl, I do a double take. Holy shit. The bombshell has a twin. Luckily, she’s wearing a black dress, so at least I’ll be able to tell them apart. I swing my hips and turn around to shake my ass. I’ve always been told I have a nice ass. All the squats from lifting bricks have paid off. A round of whistles followed by clapping surrounds the couch. I move over to the two girls sitting in the chairs, one of them is the bombshell. I hike one leg up on the arm of the chair and swivel my hips, my crotch mere inches from the tip of her nose. Her hands fly up to cover her face.
Bending down, I grip her wrists and peel her hands away and gaze into her eyes. “Just enjoy the show.”
“I’m not used to being this up close and personal to a stranger’s…” She waves a hand around the front of my pants.
“Don’t worry. It won’t bite unless you want it to.” I toss her a flirty wink.
A small chuckle escapes her, and her lips turn up into a smile. Finally, she drops her hands to her side. Olivia strolls over to us, grabs her hand, and deposits a stack of bills into her palm. Olivia glances at the money, then at my crotch, then at the bombshell, and nods firmly. The bombshell hesitantly wraps her fingers around the stack of singles.
“You don’t get to leave that chair until you shove all those in his waistband.” A wide grin spreads over Olivia’s face before she’s turning on her heel and retreating to her friends.
Not wanting to waste another second, my hands go to the button of my pants, and I flick it open. Slowly, I pull the zipper down. Her eyes fixate as each tooth passes through the zipper. Her teeth sink into her bottom lip. How do you say you’re turned on without saying you’re turned on? Look like the girl in front of me. There’s something exhilarating about having the power to turn someone on. Maybe later she’ll be thinking of me while she touches herself because I know I’ll be thinking about her.
With the top of my boxer briefs exposed, her soft fingers brush against my heated skin as she shoves a dollar into the waistband. I find the rhythm of the music and sway my hips back and forth. Like a pendulum, her gaze follows my movements. Lust pools in her irises as I swivel my hips inches from her face. This time, she shoves handfuls of bills into my waistband until she’s out of money. Feigning disappointment, I drop my leg to the floor and move on to the next girl. repeat the process, giving her a similar show to what I gave the bombshell.
When I finish, I glance around. Shit. Now what am I supposed to do? Thinking quick, I find an empty chair and place it in front of the couch. Using it as a prop, I channel my inner Channing Tatum and grind my hips on the chair, giving each and every one of these girls the fantasy of wishing they were this chair. Maybe I’ve missed my true calling.
The song changes and I realize this one-man show is getting lonely. I stroll to the bombshell still sitting in the chair and hold my hand out for her. She glances at my open palm before glancing up at me, eyebrows pinched together.
Bending down, I place a hand on each of the armrests, caging her in. My breath, warm against the shell of her ear. “Take it. It’s your turn for some special attention.” Even in the dark, I can see the pink color of her cheeks.
“Girl, get it!”
“Rip his shirt off!”
“Let’s get to the good stuff!”
Voices yell around us, but I’m not sure who’s saying what. Reluctantly, she rests her palm on mine. Her soft skin a contrast against my rough hand as her fingers wrap around mine. I’m half tempted to forget this party and take her behind the curtain. I shake the thought from my head. Instead, I hoist her out of the armchair and guide her to the chair in the middle of the room.
