by Laura Lee
We make our way to the car and squeeze into the back seat. And I really do mean squeeze. I have to angle my legs toward the middle to fit and Charlee’s pressed against the door. Her eyes dance with excitement as the driver takes us to wherever we’re going. Neon lights flash through the window, lighting up her beautiful face in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her smile is so big, I can’t help but return it. We’re just grinning at each other like fools, not saying a word, as we roll down the streets of Vegas. I find myself disappointed that I have to take my eyes off of her when we reach our destination. I haven’t been paying attention to where we were going so I’m more than a little shocked when I see where we’ve landed. A giant building with brick pillars stands before us, its blue sign flashing like a beacon to my boner.
My eyes are probably bugging out of my head. “You brought me to a strip club?”
“Yep,” she says with a pop. “You like?”
“Holy shit, do you want to get married after this? Because I’m pretty sure you’re the most perfect woman ever.”
Charlee laughs. “Get out of the car, Drew. Let’s go see some giant titties.”
I try tamping down my excitement but I’m practically vibrating from it. Yes, I’ve been to strip clubs before—many, in fact—but this is one of Vegas’s best clubs and I have the hottest woman I’ve ever known by my side. I know couples do this all the time but I’ve never personally dated someone that would be cool with it. Not that Charlee and I are dating, mind you, but you get the point. The fact that she’s here, encouraging me to have a good time, is a huge fucking turn-on. HUGE.
Ladies, let me pause and give you a little unsolicited advice. You should take your man to a strip club one night. I can pretty much guarantee the evening will end in mind-blowing sex with your husband, boyfriend, fuck buddy, whatever he is. And if you’re worried about being compared to the gorgeous blonde on your lap, don’t. Only a true asshole would do that and if he’s that much of a prick, you should dump his ass because you deserve better. Also?
He’s going home with you.
Because he wants to be with you.
Your significant other doesn’t visit a strip club because he’s not attracted to you. Odds are, he finds you sexy as fuck—better than any of the girls grinding on a pole. But here’s the thing: Men are visual creatures. If a straight dude says he doesn’t want to see naked ladies, he’s a fucking liar. There’s no better ocular candy in existence than a little T and A. Beyond the skin though, there’s the fantasy element of a strip joint; it’s dripping with sex—another thing dudes love. We go for the atmosphere, if you will. And maybe the steak.
You think I’m feeding you a bunch of bullshit? Try it sometime and prove me right.
“Have fun,” our driver says as we exit the vehicle.
Yeah...I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, buddy.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHARLEE
Drew looks like a junkie in a pharmacy. His eyes are wide, bouncing all over the darkened club like a pinball, torn between the stage in the center of the room, or the multitude of dancers grinding on laps.
“Do you want to sit against the wall or at a table?”
“Don’t care,” he replies, eyes still going wild.
Tufted leather benches line the walls and small tables surrounded by club chairs are scattered across the floor. I find a two-top in the middle of the room and point to it.
“There’s an open spot.”
He nods in acknowledgment and takes my hand to lead me across the room. I try ignoring the thrill that courses through my body from such a simple touch, but the Notorious V.A.G. is a stubborn bitch sometimes. Okay, most times.
Drew pulls my chair out and gestures for me to sit.
I smile as I plant my ass on the cushion. “And they say chivalry is dead.”
He winks. “Not with me, it isn’t.”
Within seconds, a string-bikini-clad waitress is by our side. “Can I get you two a drink?”
“Vodka tonic,” I say. “Belvedere if you have it.”
The waitress nods and looks at Drew expectantly. “And you, cutie?”
Cutie? I’m sure she uses that little term of endearment often, but that doesn’t stop my proverbial claws from lengthening.
Drew never takes his eyes off of me as he replies. “I’ll have a double of Jack, neat, and a bottle of Coors.”
I wait until the waitress leaves before speaking. “Two drinks, huh?”
“It seems about right for our size difference, don’t you think? I have two drinks for every one of yours.”
“As long as you can still get it up later, I don’t care how much you drink.”
His oversized body shakes with laughter. “Is that where you see this evening going, Charlee?”
I shrug. “A girl can hope. It’s not like I have to worry about taking advantage of you in an inebriated state.”
He smiles. “And why’s that?”
“People’s inhibitions are lower when they drink. Sometimes, it leads to decisions they wouldn’t normally make. With you, I have no doubt that you’d want to bang me when you’re perfectly sober, so there’s no question about it if you’re sauced. And for the record, no matter how drunk I get, I’d still want to ride you, so you don’t need to worry about me either.” I wink.
Warm, twinkly eyes meet mine as he appears to consider my statement. He doesn’t say anything so I wait him out, staring expectantly. After a few minutes of complete silence, he finally says, “Hmmm...”
“Hmmm?” I repeat. “That’s all you’re going to give me, huh?” We’re interrupted when our waitress delivers our drinks so I wait until she’s gone. “Well? Are you going to answer me?”
His mouth opens to reply but then it snaps shut. He rolls his lips and tries again. Instead of a third attempt, he picks up the glass in front of him and drains the contents in one long gulp. I know he’s having some kind of internal battle. Don’t ask me how I know that, I just do. And it likely has something to do with this stupid code of his. Instead of pushing it, I decide redirection is the best course of action.
“You know what, Big Guy? Let’s get you a lap dance—my treat. What’s your pleasure? Blonde, brunette or redhead?”
He smirks, probably from my oh-so-obvious diversion. “Lady’s choice.”
I look around the room and spot a beautiful woman with auburn hair toward the back. “Be right back.”
I’ve returned with the dancer in tow less than a minute later. I kick back in my chair to watch the show as she approaches Drew.
Tawny—that’s the name she gave me—trails her fingers over his shoulder. “Well, hello there, handsome. Your friend here says you’d like a dance.”
His mouth tips up in the corner. “Oh, I’d love a dance, honey.” He’s speaking to her—I think—but his eyes haven’t left mine once. In fact, he hasn’t stopped watching me since we sat down, come to think of it. It’s as if all of the naked boobs in the room suddenly disappeared.
Tawny begins her routine, rolling her supple body against him, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck. She removes her top and presses her huge breasts into his face, right before doing that bend-and-snap thing strippers are so good at. The entire time her body sensually glides against his, Drew’s gaze never strays from mine. Not for a second. And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t turn me on. Immensely. My panties are so fucking wet right now, they could probably moonlight as a Slip-n-Slide. When our three minutes are up, Tawny stands, takes the tip I offer, and saunters away.
I tilt my head to the side. “Was Tawny not your type?”
He takes a long pull from his beer. “Why do you ask that?”
“You just didn’t seem that into it.”
His gaze transforms into a smolder. An actual fucking smolder, people!
“Yeah...funny thing about that. Apparently, strippers just don’t do it for me like they used to, although I didn’t realize that until a few minutes ago. Must be this woman that I’m
interested in. Haven’t been able to get her off my mind for months.”
I lift a brow. “Oh yeah? Do I know this lucky lady?”
“I think you know her very well, Charlee.”
“Oh my God, it’s not my nonna, is it?” I widen my eyes in horror for effect.
He chuckles. “No, definitely not your grandmother.” He shudders. “And I’d really like to forget that ever happened, thank you very much.”
Now I laugh. Drew was going to be alone last Christmas so my mother had insisted he join us for dinner. My grandma may be eighty-eight, but she’s about as perverted as they come, and sees no point in hiding it. She hit on poor Drew the entire evening. I think she even asked him if he was into spanking at one point.
“Hmmm...” I tap my lips. “I wonder who it can be.”
He nods toward the exit. “Why don’t we get out of here and maybe I’ll tell you later?”
“Nuh uh. I’m not leaving until I get my lap dance. It’s not a true evening in Vegas unless you’re covered in stripper glitter.” I give him a shooing gesture. “Now, go do your job and find me a hot piece of ass.” I hold up my empty glass. “And a refill.”
He winks. “Sure thing, honey.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
DREW
I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming. I mean, seriously, how could this be real? Do you remember that movie where those two nerdy guys couldn’t get a chick so they made the perfect chick using their computer? Well, it feels like that, minus the inability to get a date. If someone asked me to make a list of everything I wanted in a woman, Charlee would tick off every single box. She’s bold, witty, gorgeous, and really fucking fun to hang out with. Plus as I mentioned before, the girl can give Rachael Ray a run for her money any day.
I’m seriously worried I might cream my pants right now. When Charlee said she wanted a lap dance, at first I thought she was just being a good sport about the whole thing. But as I sit here watching some hot naked chick grind on top of an even hotter I want to get naked chick, it’s obvious this isn’t her first rodeo. There’s always that awkward moment of “Where do I put my damn hands?” when you pop your lap dance cherry, and that’s nowhere in sight. Charlee is so at ease, she’s smiling and chatting with the dancer like they’re besties or some shit.
The more I get to know Charlotte Harris, the more I want to know. I want to learn every goddamn thing there is to know about her, and that’s never happened to me before. It’s not that I haven’t had girlfriends in the past—I have—but I’ve never, ever been so taken by a girl that I can actually picture being with her years from now. Like fifty fucking years from now. How can it possibly be fair that she’s the only woman to ever make me feel this way, yet she’s the one forbidden fruit that I can never have?
As the stripper, whose name I’ve already forgotten, finishes her dance, Charlee crosses her smooth, shapely legs and sips her vodka tonic. “So, Drew, what should we do now?”
How about throwing those legs over my shoulder so I can taste your sweet pussy?
She nudges my shin with her sequined flip flop. “Drew?”
“Huh?”
Charlee laughs. “I asked what you think we should do now. You still want to get out of here? I could really go for some In-N-Out.”
My stomach growls at the mere thought of an Animal Style burger. Or three. “That actually sounds really good.”
“Great,” she says as she grabs her phone. “I’ll get an Uber.” When she’s done ordering our ride, Charlee stands up and reaches for my hand. “You coming?”
Our fingers lock as I stand. I know she didn’t mean it in a sexual way, but that didn’t stop my brain from going there.
Hopefully, I’ll be coming a lot where you’re concerned, honey.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHARLEE
“How many gallons of water do you think they use to fill this thing?”
Drew shrugs. “Fuck if I know. I’m sure you can google it.”
After filling our bellies, we made our way back to the Strip and decided to walk around a bit to burn off our food babies. When I mentioned that I’ve never had the chance to watch the fountains in front of the Bellagio, Drew had insisted we do just that. As jets of water spray in perfect harmony with the lights, and Frank Sinatra croons through the speakers, something shifts between us. This probably sounds crazy, but it’s tangible, almost. When Drew positioned his body behind mine and pulled me into him, it’s like I could actually hear his thoughts. He wants me. Badly. He feels the inevitability of this thing between us as much as I do—he’s even accepted it—but for some reason, he’s still holding back.
I sigh as the lake darkens, signaling the end of the show. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“I’d say more like breathtaking.” Drew rests his cheek against mine and hugs me closer. “The fountains were nice, too.”
I can feel his smile against my skin as I release an embarrassingly girlish giggle. We’re jostled a bit as people disburse, but Drew cocoons me in his warmth, ensuring I don’t take any hits.
I pull back and turn around to face him. “What should we do now?”
It’s hard to tell with the lighting, but I swear his eyes darken as he cages me against the railing. “What do you want to do, Charlee?”
Okay, I have two options here. One, I can suggest we go back to my room and get naked. Or two, we have some more fun and see where the night leads us. As much as I want to feel his naked body gliding against mine, I also want him so charged up, so desperate for me, that there’s zero chance he’ll back out at the last minute or feel shitty afterwards. I respect his friendship with my brother, but at the same time, I think Brody’s overreacting. Brody cited Drew’s unsavory dating history as the main reason why I should stay away from him. Considering Brody’s past is just as colorful as his—from what I understand anyway—Brody’s being a hypocrite. Also, there’s no doubt in my mind, whether this thing with Drew lasts one night, one year, or forever, that he’ll treat me well. Who knows what the future will hold? All I know is that if I only get this one night with him, I want to make it last as long as possible, and experience as much as possible.
I smile when an idea comes to mind. “How do you feel about doing something adventurous?”
The fine lines around his eyes crinkle as he grins. “Honey, I love adventurous.”
I take his hand and weave our way into the flow of foot traffic. “C’mon, let’s go then.”
He yanks me to a stop, causing the crowd to part around us. “Our hotel is back the other way.”
I flatten my palm against his chest. “Good to know what you were thinking, Big Guy, but I had something different in mind for now.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Are you going to give me a hint?”
I bounce on the balls of my feet as I point north. “We’re going to go jump off the Stratosphere.”
His jaw drops. “I’m sorry...you want me to do what?”
“The Sky Jump,” I explain. “You’re hooked up to a bungee-cord-type-thing and you leap off the building down to a landing pad below. It’s a controlled fall—totally safe. And super fun.”
“If they make you sign a waiver—which I’d bet my left nut they do—then it’s not ‘totally safe’.”
“Aw, c’mon, Drew. I did it the last time I came to Vegas and absolutely loved it. The adrenaline rush is unreal. Besides, you risk your life every day as a firefighter. This is way safer than that. Are you seriously trying to pussy out on me?”
“I’m not pussying out,” he scoffs. “I’m merely trying to debate the merits of intentionally flinging yourself off a building.”
I roll my eyes. “It’s a controlled fall.”
“Yeah...still not convincing me.”
“Fine. Then you can hang out in the observation area while I jump.” I point to a lineup of taxis at the entrance to the hotel. “Let’s get a cab.”
“I can’t believe I’m going to do this,” he grumbles.
I pretend I d
idn’t hear him. “What’s that?”
He pinches my side. “You heard me, wiseass. I said I can’t believe I’m going to jump off a goddamn building for you.”
“I thought you were just going to watch me from the observation deck.” I have to bite my tongue to hide my amusement. I knew he’d change his mind if I said I was doing it, with or without him. He’s a bit of a Neanderthal in that respect.
He opens the cab door and gestures for me to get in. “You know damn well that won’t fly with me, Charlee. If you’re jumping, I’m jumping. But you owe me so fucking big for this.”
I smile in victory as he slides into the back seat. “Don’t worry, Drew. I’ll make it worth your while.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
DREW
Charlee grabs my elbow. “Hold up.”
“Why? Did you regain your sanity and decide not to jump?”
She drags me inside a kitschy souvenir store. “I want to grab a pair of those booty shorts.”
Charlee flips through a rack next to the display window and selects a pair of tiny white shorts with I LOVE LV stamped on the back. As much as I’d like to see her ass cheeks hanging out of those things, preferably with nothing else on, they don’t really go with the dress she’s wearing.
“Can’t we do this after plummeting to our death?”
“No, you idiot.” She rolls her eyes as she pulls the tag off. “They give you jumpsuits to wear but I’ll have to bunch my dress up a bit when I put it on. I don’t really feel like flashing everyone. Stay right where you are for a sec to shield me while I put these on.”
Fuck, now I’m thinking about bunching that dress up myself. Aaaaand my cock wakes up even more when she slides the shorts up her legs, giving me the slightest peek of a red lacy thong and a whole lotta smooth skin.
She does a little twirl when her dress is put back in place. “There. Now, nobody will see my undies.”
