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Abby laughed, took Sarah’s hand and grabbed a table up front by the stage. Sarah gawked at the performers as Abby ordered them drinks.
When Sarah was halfway through her first Long Island, a lithe but well-built guy with a long blonde ponytail sidled up to their table. Sarah’s face turned bright red but she dutifully took one of the bills Abby had given her and closed her eyes as she tucked it into the waistband of his shorts. He blew her a kiss and danced away. Sarah giggled and took another long gulp of tea.
“He was hot,” Abby declared.
Sarah nodded. “But I only gave him a dollar.”
“Why?”
Sarah leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Because Chris is bigger.”
Abby howled with laughter. “You’ve got a fine man. I can’t argue with that.”
Sarah smiled and nodded. “Mark’s nice, too.”
“Oh, yeah,” Abby concurred.
Sarah wrinkled her nose. Apparently bolstered by the cocktail she blurted out, “Does he really gag you?”
Abby guffawed as a group of out-of-towners at the next table eyed them with shocked expressions. Abby sipped her own martini and nodded.
“Is it awful?” Sarah asked, looking slightly appalled.
Abby shook her head. “I love it.”
Sarah looked as though she could not comprehend this. “But….why?!”
Abby thought for a minute, swirling her olive into her drink. “You ever had really bad sex? Like, it was his idea, but he’s got one eye on the tv the whole time and you could be anyone at all? Or a sock?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Well, consider yourself lucky,” Abby advised. “Because I have. And when Mark first gagged me, I thought I would lose it. But when I calmed down, I realized I’d never experienced anything like it.” She leaned forward in her chair. “When I’m gagged, and I can’t speak, it’s like here’s this absolutely gorgeous man, who is the most amazing lover I’ve ever had ever, and all he cares about, all he’s thinking about, is me. He’s watching my every reaction. He’s looking to see if I like what he’s doing. I’ve never been with a man who cared that much about whether or not I was happy. I’ve never been someone’s whole world like that.”
Sarah sat back in her chair, amazed. “I never thought of it like that.”
Abby shook her head. “I didn’t know it would be like that, either. But it’s the most amazing feeling. To know someone cares so much.”
****
After the fight was over, they headed back out front and waited for Walter. Once inside the Hummer, the older man grinned at them. “Win big?” he asked.
Hawk grinned back and pulled out a wad of cash and fisted it.
“Where are we off to next, Walt?” Easy asked, happily fingering his own, smaller stack of cash.
“Ice cream social, Sir.”
Easy looked crestfallen. “Huh?”
“Ice cream social. It’s the last stop.”
Easy grumbled and sat back in his seat. “What’s an ice cream social?” he grumbled.
“No idea and I don’t care,” Shooter replied. “I’m up for anything!”
Walter weaved through city traffic and put them back on the Strip in short order. Easy perked up when he pulled into the lot of a huge building that couldn’t be anything other than a strip club.
“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!” he shouted, slapping Doc on the shoulder.
Shooter frowned, though. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.
Easy shook his head. “Oh, no! This is a bachelor party! There are always strippers at a bachelor party! Slick knows that. It’s a universal rule!”
But Shooter just frowned. “Maybe I should call her.”
“You’re not calling anyone!” Easy yelled and launched himself out of the car. “No one’s coming between me and naked women!”
He sprinted for the door. Walter handed Shooter another business card that said nothing on the back. He reluctantly took it and climbed out of the car. Once inside, he presented it to the girl behind the counter who beamed at the men. She gestured for a group of women, one for each man, and the girls swarmed them.
They led the men into the main area, past the tables and the stages, and into a large private room. Shooter looked more and more anxious as they went. The room had chairs, all placed strategically in a circle. But not around a stage. They were surrounding a large, heart shaped bed with fitted plastic over the velvet mattress.
Another girl, topless with perky tits and an impossibly perkier ass scurried up to them. “Is one of you Shooter?” she purred.
The rest of the men glanced at their lieutenant.
Shooter squared his shoulders and looked directly into the face of the enemy, showing no fear. “Yes, Ma’am,” he said stoically “But I am not-”
The girl giggled and produced a card from behind her back. She handed it to the large man.
Surprised, Shooter seemed to forget what he was going to say and opened the card. He pulled out a small, handwritten note.
