by Gephart, T
Jason nodded, siding with Captain Fucking Lame. “Take it to the bathroom at least, brother.”
I didn’t bother to answer, instead flipping them off as I continued the tongue action I had going on. Assholes were just jealous I had scored both of the hot girls while they were left with their dicks in their hands. Besides, if I wasn’t seeing Ashlyn anytime soon, I needed something to tide me over. Jerking off wasn’t exactly what my dick was after.
“Wanna grab another beer?” Jason pointed to the vacant couch on the other side of the VIP section, “I’ll meet you over there.”
“Yeah, I’m going to take a lap first. I’m getting bored.” Troy shrugged as both of them walked off in different directions.
“Did we make your friends mad?” Skyla blinked as she ran her hands underneath my shirt, her nails against my skin making me shiver.
“They’re just jealous, babe, pay them no mind.” I wasn’t about to have the fun police cockblock me, it had been a while since I’d last had a threesome.
“Good,” Lili licked her lips, “because Skyla and I are about to blow your mind.”
The rows of liquor bottles caught the light, shining down on us like twinkling stars. It contrasted nicely with the dark red walls of the club. We had managed to secure two unoccupied bar stools and perched ourselves at the bar. This meant two things: the drinks were readily refreshed and replenished, and we didn’t realize how much we’d drunk until we stood up.
“I need to pee.” Megs giggled, pulling gently on my arm. “We need to find the bathroom.”
“Okay.” I giggled back like she had delivered the world’s greatest punch line. “There’s bound to be one around here somewhere.”
“If you head upstairs, the one up there is bound to have a shorter line,” Kirk, the bartender we’d become rather fond of, helpfully offered.
“Thanks, Kirk. We love you.” Megs blew him kisses as I pulled her from the stool.
“You need to walk, Megs. I can’t carry you,” I protested, trying to right her back onto her own two feet.
“I feel like I’m wearing stilts. How high are these stupid heels?” Megs lifted her foot in amusement, inadvertently flashing her crotch to the group of guys in front of us. Thankfully she was wearing underwear, though that didn’t stop the whistles of encouragement from our makeshift audience.
“Just walk slowly,” I encouraged, our swaying bodies making little progress as we moved to the edge of the stairs.
“But I’m going to pee my pants.” Megs laughed as we slowly navigated one stair at time. The click-clack of our heels against the wooden steps could still be heard above the music. At this rate there was going to be a puddle on the floor before we’d even made it halfway. “Take your shoes off until we get to the bathroom.”
“Ew. I’m not walking in bare feet. It’s a club, Ash, lord knows what’s down there.” Megs scrunched her face in disgust.
“Well then, walk faster or your pee is going to be added to the list of unidentifiable things down there.”
While our ascent up the stairs was painfully slow, we did make it to the top without any incidents, be it falls or further indecent exposure. The sacrifice of footwear was also avoided, Megs unwilling to let herself be defeated by a pair of Loubutins, despite their height.
“Salvation.” Megs pushed opened the door of the bathroom, sending us almost spilling onto the tile floor, the shiny, white-tiled floor and chromed surfaces, pristine, and thankfully, vacant. “Kirk was right, there is no line. Remind me to give him a big tip.” She hurried into the stall.
I shuffled into the stall beside her, using the walls to steady myself before allowing myself to feel the sweet relief.
“Ash, I heard this story of this girl who was drinking all night and didn’t pee and then died the next day. Lucky we made it to the bathroom,” she shouted despite there being only a few inches of wall separating us.
“That’s just some bullshit urban legend, Megs. You have to stop reading Internet spam,” I shouted back, having trouble regulating my voice. I blamed the booze or perhaps the onsets of deafness, probably escalated by prolonged exposure to DJ madness from downstairs.
“Hey, if you get this job with Lexi Reed you need to introduce me to the band.” Megs giggled through the wall as she hit the flush. “I want to make out with Troy Harris.”
“I thought we weren’t talking about it.” I tried to stand and pull up my panties, the seemingly easy task almost beyond me. “And you aren’t just going to make out with someone you don’t know, even if he is famous.”
“Why not?” We both exited at the same time, Megs pulling at the fitted, glittery scrap of material she was passing off as a dress. Her effort to cover more of her breasts almost exposed her ass. “We can be bad girls. Why can’t I kiss some random guy? Even if I sleep with him, who cares? Everyone is so judgmental. I say, it’s my vagina, if I see fit to give it away then it should be no one’s business.”
“Megs, when you are throwing out the word vagina, I would say you have had too much to drink.” I laughed and adjusted her glittery scrap so while she was showing a little more cleavage, the rest of the club wouldn’t get a free up-skirt on our way out of the bathroom.
“Vagina, vagina, vagina,” Megs gleefully sang as we washed our hands, her inhibitions long gone.
“You have issues, you know that?” I threw paper towels in Megs’s direction, which she tried to deflect with uncoordinated karate-style moves.
“I wonder if there is a bar up here? I am not liking the idea of going down any stairs right now.” I pushed open the door and we exited the bathroom, returning to the light and sound of the club. Had it gotten louder? Or had our bathroom visit just given us a reprieve?
“Surely there’s a bar up here, the VIP section is down that hall. You should use your super powers to sneak us in there. I bet they have free snacks, those slices from Angelo’s were hours ago.”
“Yes. We should go to the VIP section.” I raised my hands in agreement forgetting that it inadvertently raised my already too-short dress higher. “You’re a genius.”
“I’m a doctor, all that schooling has to count for something.” Megs held onto my arm as we pushed through the throng of people assembled near the VIP area.
“Everyone who doesn’t belong here, move along.” Two security guards attempted to clear the area.
A large ornate chandelier peeked out from the top of the massive erected barriers, its shimmering gleam taunting us from the other side.
“Someone good must be in there,” Megs complained. “Security is tight.”
Pulling Megs with me, we squeezed back through the throng of people and circled to the opposite side of the club. “Let’s go around to the other side, if we go over to the balcony, we can probably see through the screens.”
On this side of the club there was a small balcony, which jutted out like an old school theater. The gilded railing and large velvet curtains fringed what I could only assume was the designated resting area, a chaise lounge and a couple of plush armchairs sat vacant in this forgotten corner.
“Can you see anything?” Megs happily fell onto the chaise, her toned, bare legs stretched out in front of her. “I’m just going to lay here, maybe take a nap.”
“Oh you have got to be kidding me,” I huffed, able to catch a glimpse through the thin gap between the barrier screens.
“What?” Megs sat up suddenly her quest for a nap forgotten.
I pointed wildly, wondering if the universe was somehow conspiring against me. “Dan Fucking Evans is right over there.” Of all the gin joints in all the cities, he had walked into mine. Okay, we weren’t in a gin joint and he hadn’t walked in, but still, what were the chances?
“Are you sure? We’ve had a lot of drink. It could be some random who looks like him.” Megs jumped off the chaise and moved to my side, squinting her eyes in an attempt to see.
“No, that’s him. I’d know that smug grin anywhere. Seriously, twice in one day. Look a
t him, smirking his ass off with a couple of girls draped over him.” My fever rose as I watched him through the gap. I despised him and yet, he looked downright edible in tight black jeans and a vintage Ramones tee. Clearly I was drunker than I thought.
“Wow, he’s actually better looking in real life.” Megs pushed me out of the way, able to see more clearly from my vantage point. “I know we are staring but I can’t stop looking at him. I think his tattoos are hypnotizing me.”
“I should go tell him what an ass he was,” I stated, fuelled with a good dose of liquid courage and a case of I-no-longer-care-what-anyone-thinks.
“Ash, this is probably not a good idea.” Megs swayed unsteadily on her feet, having as much trouble standing as she was trying to convince me of my bad idea.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to meet him? Well, let’s go over there.” I turned and made for the VIP area, unsure exactly what I would say to him once I got there. Ass. How dare he? This was my night of irresponsibility. I didn’t want him here.
“Is there anything I can say that is going to stop you?” Megs grabbed onto my arm, trying her best to keep up with my accelerated pace and not trip over her own feet.
“No, probably not.” I smiled, knowing my mind was made up.
“Okay, fine. Let’s go over there but don’t get us thrown out, all right?”
I dragged a stumbling Megs by the hand as I wandered to the VIP area, trying not to make my forced grin look like something out of horror movie.
The large security guard put his arms out to hinder us moving forward. “Sorry, ladies, this area is reserved.”
“But my friend is in there, I just need to tell him something.” I sounded surprisingly calm despite my quickened heartbeat. I gave him another smile, not sure if I was going for seductive or meek. The twitching of my lips probably made me look more like a stroke victim than a femme fatale.
“Who is your friend?” I could tell he was skeptical, and had probably been fielding women all night.
“It’s Dan Evans, he’s just over there. If you let me through, I’ll just talk to him and then we’ll be on our way.” I placed my hands on my hips, hoping the fact I was wearing very little clothes would work in my favor. If I’d been less inebriated I would have been horrified by my brazen attempt, but in my current altered state I was resisting the urge to give myself a high-five.
“Listen, babe. You aren’t the first lady here tonight to tell me he’s your friend. Either way, unless a VIP escorts you in, I can’t let you through. It’s nothing personal, I just have a job to do.” While he wasn’t rude, he wasn’t sympathetic to my plight either, shooting down any further conversation. I narrowed my eyes, silently cursing his personal integrity.
“But I really do know him,” I protested, wondering if my earlier conversation with Dan constituted knowing him. I’d met him; that had to count. Semantics.
“I’m sure you do but rules are still rules.”
“Well your rules suck.” I stuck out my tongue defiantly. Seriously, who was I and where was Ashlyn Murphy?
“Hey, Barney.” A tattooed, guy with a Mohawk, and the most amazing hazel eyes tried to squeeze past. His large frame inadvertently brushed up against us. “Hi, ladies.”
“Oh shit, that’s Troy Harris. He’s so hot. Did I say that out loud?” Megs panted as she smacked her hand across her mouth.
His lips spread into an amused grin. “Yes I am, and yeah you did.” It made him look sweet actually, all tough guy exterior paired off with a really nice smile. I was either drunker than I thought or I had never noticed.
“So you are the drummer? Huh, I had totally thought that dickwad was.” I pointed to where Dan was sitting, his duo of skank scarves still draped around his neck. “My apologies to you. You are so much nicer than he is. He is a total jerk. You even said hello without being an ass.”
Troy’s face looked animated as he laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment. I assume you are talking from experience?”
“I met him this morning. He told me I had small tits. Look at them.” I glanced at the swells of my breasts that peeked out above the tight black fabric. “They look adequate, don’t they? Who even says that to a girl?” Did I just ask Troy Harris to inspect my breasts? The words coming out of my mouth were fuzzily entwined with my internal thoughts, so I couldn’t be sure which was which. Not with any certainty anyway.
“Sure they look…um really nice.” His grin widened as he briefly looked down, confirming I had in fact verbalized the request.
“Troy Harris. Hi, I’m a fan.” Megs grabbed his hand and started shaking it wildly, his arm bouncing up and down as Megs continued to shake. “I just want to say that I told Ashlyn you were the drummer when she thought Dan Evans was the drummer. Tell him, Ashlyn. I totally said Troy Harris is the drummer.”
“You don’t have to say my whole name, you can just call me Troy.” He smiled carefully using his other hand to free the one currently caught in Megs’s death grip. He surely had to think we were insane; he was just too polite to say so, further proving what a nice guy he was. Not like Dan. Dan was un-nice. Huh? That’s not a word. My eyes crossed as I tried to find the adjective I needed, sexy was what kept flashing repeatedly, unwelcome in my mind.
“Wait, did you say your name is Ashlyn?” Troy studied me curiously, must be my freaky crossed eyes that had him interested. I really am such a catch.
“Yes, I’m Ashlyn.” I stood up a little straighter, pushing back my shoulders proudly. Seriously, who the hell was I right now?
“Oh this is perfect.” He clapped his hands together as the smile hit his eyes. “You met Dan this morning when you had an interview with Lexi, right?”
“Yes, I had an interview this morning and Dan was there with Alex. Not that I even looked at Alex. I mean I looked at him but not in that way. I mean he’s married with a baby. I was most definitely not throwing off heat of any kind.” Abort! Abort! My mind shouted and my mouth refused to obey. It’s as if the words spewed from my mouth like inmates in a jailbreak. Sound the alarm. It was anyone’s guess what I would be saying next.
“Ashlyn, are you drunk?” His eyebrow rose as his smile widened, clearly enjoying this, whatever this was.
“I would say if we are talking probabilities, the chances are pretty high.” I stepped closer in an attempt to whisper in his ear but ended up smacking my forehead against his cheek. “Are you going to get us thrown out?”
“This just keeps getting better and better.” He threw his head back in a full-throated laugh. “Hell no, you ain’t getting kicked out. I think you lovely ladies need to come back and be my guest. Barney, I’ll take responsibility for these two.”
He offered me his arm that, thankfully, I latched onto. Megs, bypassing formalities, hugged his chest, her grin threatening to split her face apart.
“Your call, man. Just get them to drink some water. Lay off the booze for a few, yeah?” Barney offered as he stepped aside, shaking his head.
“You cool, ladies?” Troy asked as he looked from his arm that I was holding like a life preserver, to Megs who was snaked around his waist like a human boa constrictor. Neither seemed to faze him.
“Hell yes, Troy Harris, we want to come back. I’m Megan Winters by the way but you can call me Meg or Megs or just call me Megan.” Megs nodded, her head bouncing so violently it seemed she had lost all muscle control in her neck.
“I’ll make you a deal, you just call me Troy and I’ll call you Megs.” He chuckled at Megs as his bright hazel eyes moved to me. “Ashlyn, you want to come back and hang?”
I tried to harness what control I still had over my mouth to smile, but as it had been spewing crazy talk, who knew if it actually had the ability to curl upward to form anything close resembling to a grin. I was going to enjoy this. “Lead the way.” I smirked.
Things were just getting interesting when Skyla and Lili excused themselves to hit the bathroom. We’d been making out and playing touchy-feely for a while and both of them see
med eager for us to make tracks and head back to their place. They shared an apartment in the Chelsea area so I guessed sharing bodily fluids wasn’t going to be a big deal. Who was I to argue? I wondered if they would let me film it? They seemed up for just about anything, so it couldn’t hurt to suggest.
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through messages, nothing really interested me but it sure beat sitting on the couch by myself looking like a douche. How long does it take to go to the bathroom? Women take too fucking long. What do they do in there? I’ve been in a few ladies rooms and it’s not like they have anything interesting going on in there. It’s just toilets and sinks. I wondered if they were getting started without me? ’Cause straight up, that would not be fucking cool.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Troy saunter in with two babes wrapped around him. Well, fuck me. Looks like the big guy finally got some sack and was taking my lead. I immediately snapped my head around to get a better look; no harm in admiring the view. After all, I’d just given him that pleasure not half an hour ago.
Was that? I felt the blood drain straight from my head and into my cock as they got closer, confirming that the smoking babe holding onto Troy’s arm was the same feisty redhead from this morning.
“Ashyln?” I rose to my feet like a marine called to attention. Holy shit, she was hot. She looked so different, her long wild hair probably covering more of her pale skin than the dress she was wearing, not that I was complaining.
“Hello, Dan.” She breathed into my face as she leaned into me, swaying slightly on her feet.
She said my name with such distaste and venom, her breath smelling of gin and the possibility of bad decisions. I’m not sure why, but I fucking loved it. The outfit she was wearing made me instantly hard.
“I seemed to have stumbled onto some fans.” Troy grinned, his arm still wrapped around the other girl. “I think they might be friends of yours.”
