Our Muted Recklessness (Muted Hopelessness Book 2)

by Love Belvin

  “You have your ID?” Paulie asked.

  That snapped me into the here and now. “Let me tell you something. I don’t know what these guys have planned for me tonight, but if you try that shit you did with the milkshake again, I’ll beat your ass. You hear me?”

  With an open mouth and his fade reaching toward the sky, Paulie nodded hard.

  The place was dark, noisy, and neon. The girls on the stage were the main view, and we Panthers had the best seats in the house. There weren’t many people here. In fact, I wondered if the place was closed out for BSU students tonight. It was clear to me, by the way the manager along with the owner came over and spoke to most of the guys, especially Ashton, Al, and Dre, that there was a familiarity with them. I knew who they were because they introduced themselves to me, saying happy birthday, and they were looking forward to seeing me fight soon.

  And of course, they were Black. Most of the business owners in this college town were Black, but not “poor” Black that I’d been used to back in Jersey. These people were with class, but still…cool. The place seemed stylish with leather cushioned chairs and fancy glasses. Mine was filled with ginger ale because the manager made it clear I couldn’t be served alcohol. So I watched the guys—except for Paulie next to me—gulp down drink after drink.

  The lighting switched and music changed. 50 Cent’s “In Da Club” started, and my body tensed to a rock. I knew it. Although I’d slipped into a headspace of comfort because I’d been able to be invisible up until now, I knew at some point of the night they’d turn the spotlight on me. I understood this was an assignment for embarrassment, not comradery.

  So as the girls left the stage and made their way to us, the Panthers all stood dancing. They shuffled around me. For a moment, all I could see were Panthers in a complete circle. Dre handed me a shot and leaned into me.

  “Hurry up,” he ordered quickly.

  At first, I stared at the small glass with clear liquid. They cheered me on, loud like locker room ruckus. When I found Ashton calm with a smirk, and he nodded, I decided to go for it. I closed my eyes, bracing against the burn. When they opened, I noticed the guys shuffling behind me where I couldn’t see them. My eyes went wild as I watched them all leaving my peripheral, praying they wouldn’t lay a finger on me. Jokes I could do, but physical force I couldn’t. God, I didn’t want to have a meltdown in this place, around these strange humans, but I would if they took things too far!

  My palms balled into tight fists and my bare knees pushed into each other with painful force as I braced myself. The guys crowded behind my chair and the group of mostly topless girls in thongs formed a line in front of me. The first in line was sensual, swaying her hips and arms to the beat. Behind me, the guys rained dollar bills they were given when exchanging larger bills coming in. She turned around and dropped it low before moving aside for the next. That girl, too, touched herself, opening her legs with a rhythmic twerk. She sashayed before taking off, making room for the third girl.

  Well, the line went on and on, some dancers giving me a “show” then taking off. Others touched me, giving me a lap dance. Most of them were sweet, wishing me a happy birthday. Dancer by dancer, I found myself relaxing—until one danced on me. Those weren’t easy to get through, considering my issues with being touched. And then having to smell a musk that took me a few lap dances to realize was vaginal scents. None were terribly bad, just personal. Intimate in a way I didn’t want to participate in. But I was a trooper and didn’t react in a way that embarrassed myself or the Panthers.

  The guys’ cheers grew louder and more suspicious when the last girl was up. The music changed, tempo slowed. A bundle of singles was placed on my shoulders as I eyed her warily. There were lips at my ear. The scent of a familiar cologne mixed with heat tickled my senses.

  “This is one you should tip, too, Nabby-girl.” His voice was thick in a way I understood him.

  Ashton was turned on by this. These girls dancing, even on or for me, he enjoyed it. I bet they all did.

  Guys are such weird humans...

  But I’d get through this. It was almost done, and soon enough my ride would be here. I took the money and noticed how Ashton left his hand on my shoulder. I didn’t know what to make of it and decided to ignore it and him. An old school song I heard a lot coming up in my Margaret’s house played. I didn’t know the name of it, but the woman sang, “Fool’s paradise,” a lot.

  This girl’s techniques were less rushed and more skilled. Her arches were deep and kicks steady. And she stared me directly in the eye, wanting to be watched. It was almost as if she expected my reaction. And she touched me. The woman used her palm softly to run down the sides of my body while in the chair, from the sides of my tits to my ankles.

  Still moving to the beat, she urged me to loosen my hips and unlock my knees. I had no idea why I did it without a fight. She didn’t try opening my legs wide. Just enough to align them with her tits that bounced on them. The expression on her face was that the little bit of contact we had made her feel good. Her hands were raised over her shoulders and she reached through her long hair, gripping her scalp. Her neon green lips were open and eyes closed as she bounced on the back of her legs. I could relate to that—the titties thing. When Ashton touched, sucked or licked on my titties, it did things to my body and mind that scared me.

  But the way I did nothing to make her feel this good, and her acting as if I did, made me realize what I wasn’t good at. I didn’t have the balls to make facial expressions or moan or grab on Ashton when he did those things to me. I just lay there until I couldn’t take it anymore and I lost control. Then she dropped back, pumping her crotch, covered only by a thin layer of neon green cotton giving away everything, in the air. Her neck rolled, tongue circled over her lips, too. This was something else.

  When I felt gripping on my shoulder, I was reminded he was there. “She needs to be tipped, Nabby-girl.” His voice was smooth velvet at the side. My spine shook, but I fought through it and jumped into action. I peeled away a few bills and tightly tossed them at her. “Shower them over her like that blooming bud she is, KaToria.” His breath hit my skin.

  And like an obedient child, I lifted just enough to sprinkle the bills over her. He was right: she deserved to be rewarded. After I sat back, somehow now happy Ashton’s hand was still at my shoulder, she stood and danced toward me. My head pushed back into a body—likely Ashton’s—when her leg swung over me, heel locking onto the armrest. Seconds later, her other leg and foot did the same, and her pussy was a foot away from my face. I didn’t want this type of closeness to her, but couldn’t get enough of her powerful sexuality.

  She was beautiful, skilled, sexy, and…confident. I could only hope to come close to that. What would it be like to have that kind of freedom? My cousins and Toya were right: I had never been fat. It seemed I had a body that adults liked. Now that I was an adult, why couldn’t I have the confidence to use my body to communicate with someone I liked?

  Like…Ashton…

  His hand was still on me, and my eyes were glued to the dancer. Why couldn’t I throw myself at him like she was doing me was a burning question. It was hot, and so like something a guy like Ashton would want. The scent of vagina aside, this woman had me feeling…sexy. The way she looked me in the eye while sharing her private part was so fucking boss.

  “Tori,” I didn’t detect Ashton at my ear until his facial hair tickled my cheek. “Her name is Wet-Wet.” The groan in his voice did shit to me.

  I was so…horny and didn’t know what to do. Between the shots, the confident dancer, Ashton’s scent and sexy voice, I was in a bad way I wasn’t used to. Without thinking, my hand went for his on my shoulder and squeezed.

  The girl smiled, not breaking rhythm in her twerk. “Hi, there, birthday girl,” she purred.

  I couldn’t speak, my eyes bouncing all over.

  “Wet-Wet likes girls, Tori.”

  The woman’s face opened in shock. “You like girls, too?”<
br />
  She’d broken character. Her voice too high now, energy too desperate. She wanted to know. At the same time, Ashton moved our locked hands to his crotch. He wanted me to feel he was hard. Usually—before BSU—that act would have sent me into a fucking weirded-out crisis. Right now, it weakened me and I fell into my chair even further.

  My answer was choppy when my head shook too fast, then I thought to speak, “No.”

  Because I didn’t. For the first time in my life, I knew who I was sexually. I knew I liked boys. It was clear in a weird way. This woman was beautiful and sexy as all get out, but right now, in the height of horniness, I had no desire to be with her. I wanted something only guys could give—naturally, anyway. I wanted to feel Ashton’s penis in my hands, my mouth. Inside of me.

  Oh shit…

  I wanted to have sex. I wanted to have sex with Ashton. There was no doubt in my mind at this point. I liked guys; only guys. And I wanted Ashton to take my virginity.

  “I want you,” I whispered, looking at the woman, hoping the Panthers couldn’t hear.

  But Ashton needed to. I was now sure.

  The woman froze, hips paused, and tits calmed. “Me?”

  Ashton’s chuckle was throaty at the side of my face. “Nah, Wet. Nabby-girl here has made possibly the best decision in her life.” His beard scraped against my face while standing straight.

  It burned my skin and my panties, making me rub my thighs together.

  “Oh!” the woman laughed, then reached to hug my face. “Happy birthday, sweetie. Oh, to be young again.” She laughed.

  I didn’t respond with words. Instead, I handed her the rest of the cash Ashton had given me earlier. I knew I was supposed to make it rain, but my mind was blown by my “decision,” as he put it.

  The dancer let herself off my chair effortlessly and took off. When I was able to gather myself, I looked all around, and finally behind me. The Panthers were with dancers. The strippers who formed a birthday line for me were coupled with them. Some were two to a guy. Eventually, some of the players went back to their seats with their dancer of choice. Even Paulie plopped back down next to me with a topless girl. She was his complexion with orange afro puff ponytails. A few Panthers left with dancers, disappearing behind a curtain of beads all the way on the other side of the showroom.

  “You good?” Paulie asked while the girl made herself comfortable over his long legs.

  “Where are they going?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.

  “Private rooms for private dancing,” he scoffed. “Big money, too.”

  “You got it, long John.” The woman straddling him purred, running her orange nail down the center of his chest.

  Paulie’s mouth hung open again, already lost to her feminine skills. She was good, but not as good as the one who had just left me. My eyes scanned the area for her. When I saw her kneeling at Ashton’s side while he sat in his chair, my stomach turned. They were…talking. Like old friends, their eyes were locked onto each other as she spoke to him. She seemed to be explaining something to him while he’d nod every few seconds. Even in the dimness of the room, I could see his eyes strained on her. It could have been flirting; it could have been that he was genuinely into her conversation. Either way, I felt annoyed.

  My phone thankfully vibrated next to my hip in the clutch I carried. A clutch… I couldn’t believe at nineteen, I’d be in heels, a tight dress, light makeup and jewelry, using a purse. The only thing normal about my look was the ponytail, but even that, ShawnNicole made fancy by puffing it out and shaping my edges.

  Samantha: Hey, you okay?

  Rolling my eyes, I BBM’d her back. I told her the Panthers’ plan for me tonight. She wanted to come and look out for me, but I told her no. I didn’t think the guys wanted anyone who wasn’t a Panther out on this “field trip.” I didn’t want to ask and be told no.

  Me: i guess. yeah.

  Less than a minute later, the phone buzzed again.

  Samantha: Okay. Let me know if you need me to borrow a car to come get you. I know where that place is. They can be such assholes. You don’t have to take it Tori!

  The corner of my mouth lifted. It was nice to know someone had my back. But I remembered something, too.

  Me: i may back in the morning. i’m going out with my friend later.

  Samantha: How?

  I chewed the inside of my lip, attention blindly going over to Paulie next to me. His arms were hanging over the chair and legs stretched out like he was surrendering. The girl on him had her face in his crotch while her private part was inches away from his face. The poor guy was in heaven.

  Me: he’s picking me up from here.

  Samantha: When?

  Me: soon. could be outside now.

  I felt like a fool. If the car was outside, where was I going? Back to campus, I assumed. Really, I had no clue.

  I looked across the section to Ashton, wondering if I could get his attention to tell him to check his phone. That way, I would BBM him to ask what would happen after I left here. The woman, Wet-Wet, was on the floor right in front of Ashton’s long legs. Her legs were straight up in the air as she balanced on her shoulders. She scissored her curvy legs, opening and closing them to give him flash views of her pussy. Ashton sat up, elbows on his knees as he looked down on her, throwing singles at her crotch. His head and eyelids stayed low, but eyes rolled up, shooting into me. Annoyed again, I threw my attention to my phone.

  Samantha: Okay. I’m here if you need me. Glad you’re being celebrated by a real man.

  I had a visual of her eye roll when reading that. Not wanting to eye-hustle and see tits, ass, and horny boys, I kept my attention on my phone. There wasn’t much to do in it, but I found my way to my email. My chest lifted as I pulled in a breath at his name. Ragee sent me an email with Happy Birthday in the subject. It was an e-card. I tapped until it took me to a website where I saw a cute, colorful card with a message by him.

  I know wherever you are and whatever you’re doing it includes overthinking. Take a break today and celebrate you. You’re a blessing. Raj

  That made me smile. God, I didn’t want to smile. Before opening his email, I felt lots of shit; happiness wasn’t one of them. My eyes swung up and over to Ashton. He wasn’t there. The girl was gone, too. In that short time of ignoring him, Ashton had left.

  Private room…

  I wanted to ask Paulie, but he was in no condition to follow much. Ashton left for privacy with the dancer. He’s got a girlfriend! Why would he go back there with Wet-Wet? That’s when Ragee’s words did help me. I decided to go. No overthinking that. There was no need to announce it to the guys. They wouldn’t care if the place was on fire right now. These guys were having their wet dreams fulfilled. So I stood and grabbed my clutch, then headed to the door.

  The bouncers nodded to acknowledge me as I passed them in the entrance. One even asked if I was okay.

  “Yeah. Ummm…” I couldn’t see out the door. There were no see-through windows. “I think my ride’s here.”

  “The limo?” I thought for a second, remembering it was a limo for my fake date last month. Then I nodded. “He’s been out there for a while.” The beefy man, as big as Ashton’s uncle, June, led me to the door and opened it.

  For sure, there was a limo, possibly the same I used for my fake date. Possibly. It was black, and beyond that, I knew nothing about makes and models. It didn’t matter anyway. I just wanted out of here. My heels clacked against the gravel of rocks on the ground as I moved quickly to the running car. It was the end of November, and my stupid ass didn’t wear a coat. I didn’t care. I was getting out of this strip club and away from that confusing—and obviously cheating—human. No more. I was done playing his head game. This would be the last night.

  “Ms. Tori.” The same driver from my fake date was out of the front seat and opening the back door for me. Dressed in all black, he tilted his hat. “I hope you had a wonderful evening.”

  Fighting for manners, my eyes
blinked hard over and over, and I lifted my cheeks, struggling for eye contact. I dipped inside, where the interior lit from the door being opened. My body dumped inside seconds before the door closed. But I was still able to catch the gang of balloons, birthday gift bags, and long stretched legs in sweatpants on the floor. My heart thundered in my chest and I lost control of my breathing. Within seconds, the back area was dark.

  Then he turned up a light just a little so I could see his face. I had no fucking idea of what to say, so I didn’t think.

  “I thought you were with Wet-Wet.”

  Why did I have to say that? That sounded…like a girl. That revelation made my stomach turn.

  “I was with Wet-Wet.”

  I looked his way again. “I mean now.”

  “Where?” His voice was too calm as he sat, stretched out, unmoving.

  I felt a pout on my face, and I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t see outside either. “Private room.”

  He chuckled, and it sounded so Ashton-arrogant. “I don’t do private rooms at strip clubs…unless my girl wants to.” I sucked in a breath. His head tilted. “But you made it clear you don’t do girls, McNabb.” There was a slight growl in that sentence.

  “I don’t!” That, I was sure of.

  “Then who do you like, Nabby-girl?” The smile in his voice grated my nerves. My chest heaved, and I hated it. Why did I let this frustrating human get to me like this? “If you didn’t like Wet-Wet sexually, what had you so drawn to her when she danced?” That caused a flash memory in my mind of her arching her spine, her rolling her hips without shame, her curling her body so…femininely. “Did she make you wet?”

  I jumped him. Pushing from the leather seat with my fists, I leaped up and over to him. Without thinking, I landed, straddling his hard body, my hands cradling his frustratingly good-looking face. I kissed him, hard. My hips rolled over his swollen dick and I felt his hands at my hips squeezing. Yes, my heart pounded, but my body hummed. I was horny. That’s what strip clubs and shots did to you. They made you horny and able to decide. I wanted Ashton so bad, and my body roared so loudly, I couldn’t think of Aivery if I wanted to.