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The waitress returned with our drinks, and after a little power struggle over who would pay, Cade and Jamie agreed to split, and we were left to sip from our glasses as we watched not the girls on stage, but the guys watching them.
“What about him?” Cade nodded toward a guy at the front, singles held at the ready.
Curly brown hair, dark eyes, broad shoulders: he was hot. But while considering him as an option, I noticed the girl he was watching dance. She had legs longer than the Mississippi and a Texas sized ass while still having a Rhode Island sized waist line. It made my pussy feel like Idaho: who would want to visit?
“Umm, he’s okay, I guess, but let’s keep looking,” I said.
Jamie nudged me and pointed out another potential guy. Without an ounce of Cade’s subtlety and politeness, he said, “He’s probably got a penis.”
This guy sat in the back, half hidden in shadows. But I could see his suit and his slicked back hair and his stack of hundreds he passed to a girl. He probably liked whips and gags, but, hey, maybe I did, too. New Tessa was sill figuring herself out.
I was about to suggest going over to talk to him, but then the girl climbed onto his lap. Her back arched and the lights flashed over her naked breasts. I subconsciously pulled up the top of my own shirt; my nipples were practically hiding in shame.
“Eh, I’m getting a weird vibe from him,” I finally answered Jamie.
He raised an eyebrow. “A weird vibe?”
I nodded. Jamie glanced over his shoulder at the guy practically drooling as the woman grinded her ass against his surely hard cock. I couldn’t compete with how her hips moved, how her hand seductively snaked around the back of his neck, how she rolled her toned, tanned body to the rhythmic pounding of the bass.
“That’s fine, Tessa,” Cade said and I looked over to find him glaring at Jamie. “If you don’t feel good about him, we don’t feel good about him. How about this dude two tables over?”
I squinted in the dim light. The guy was watching another perfect dancer, sparkly pasties covering her nipples. None of the guys were the problem—it was the women. New Tessa had gotten me inside the strip club, but Old Tessa’s insecurities would just not go away. “Emm, pass.”
Jamie nudged my shoulder and leaned closer to say, “You’ll like him.”
“No.”
“Him?”
“No.”
“He’ll do.”
“He’s not quite right.” I shrank further into my chair and clung even tighter to my drink. I wasn’t pretty like these girls, sexy like these girls, seductive like these girls. What were Cade and Jamie even doing with me?
“Jamie,” Cade said, “I don’t see the waitress and I want to get us another round. Let’s just go up to the bar ourselves.”
Jamie’s eyes searched the strip club and he jutted his chin at the other side of the room, behind my back. “She’s right there, lad.”
Cade’s voice was tight as he repeated, “I don’t see her. We should go to the bar.”
Jamie turned his head toward Cade and I was surprised when his gruff “fuck the world” face softened. “Yeah,” he said, “yeah, I don’t see her, either. Let’s go to the bar.”
They pushed back their chairs at the same time. “Don’t go anywhere, Tess,” Cade said, “we’re going to grab more drinks but we’ll have eyes on you the entire time.”
I nodded, but they were only gone a couple of minutes before they returned. Without drinks.
Each of them extended a hand for me to take.
“We’re leaving?” I said even as I took hold of their hands. Cade’s long, slender fingers were soft and gentle, like a caress. Rough and calloused, Jamie’s beefy hand consumed mine.
“Not yet, lassie,” Jamie said.
“Follow us,” Cade added.
They guided me past the tables toward a staircase in the back.
“Wait, these are the private rooms. We can’t—”
