by M. Never
“I’m glad.” I hold her up as she hangs on me. “How much did she have to drink?” I ask Emily.
“Not as much as you think. Jill was hyperventilating earlier about walking down the aisle. We needed to calm her down, so one of the girls gave her a Xanax.”
“You sure that was a good idea?”
“Probably not,” she shrugs, “but at least she’s having fun now.”
“Clearly. The question is for how long.”
I prop Jill up on the couch with her bottle of champagne, her eyes are glazing over and her head is bobbing all over the place. She’s going to have one wicked hangover in the morning.
The room quickly fills up with men in those tiny metallic blue briefs, each choosing a girl to entertain. Everyone is drinking and partying, stirring up a mix of testosterone and estrogen so potent you can almost smell sex in the air. Emily and I just stand in the corner taking it all in.
I can’t lie, this is all highly entertaining.
The music changes to Far East Movement’s “Like a G6” and the energy in the club explodes.
As Emily and I succumb to the let-loose beat and start to dance, I feel someone slide their hands down my sides and push their body up against mine. “Hey, beautiful,” a familiar voice rasps. I smile, dancing another second before I turn around and jerk my head back. “Sean?”
He smiles wickedly at me.
“What are you doing here?” I step back.
“I came to see Ryan.”
“Here?”
“Yeah, here. I come and hang out all the time.”
“You do? Why?” I can’t fathom it.
“Um, a room full of hot, horny women. Why wouldn’t I hang out here?”
Okay, he’s got me there.
“How did you get up here?” I ask.
“I snuck up. I saw you from the dance floor. Where’s Ryan?”
“I don’t know, I haven’t seen him yet.” I glance at my watch, it’s been over an hour.
“Well, I can keep you company until he gets here.” Sean leans into me. I put my hand on his chest and glare into his eyes. God, he really is the spitting image of Ryan, it’s uncanny. “You can hang out, but keep your distance.” I’m nice, but firm. Sean steps back, taking the hint. He’s wearing an over-sized black t-shirt and baggy jeans. No hat, which is unusual. His hair is much shorter than Ryan’s, but it’s still wavy like his on top. I’ve only seen Sean a handful of times since Ryan and I started dating again. That first meeting at the café, and then here and there when he would show up, unannounced, in the city. Other than that, Ryan pretty much keeps me segregated from his family. Which I don’t hold against him at all. We have a mutual understanding, each of us is dealing with our own plateful of family problems. How do we deal? The way we always have. We concentrate on each other instead of dwelling on the drama. And Sean is most definitely drama. I pour myself another glass of champagne and one for Sean. I hand him the flute and he grimaces, “You rich folk actually drink this shit?”
“Have you ever had it?”
“No.”
“Then don’t call it shit unless you know what it tastes like.”
He looks at the glass tentatively, then shrugs and takes a gulp.
I watch as he downs half the glass. The number tattooed on his neck catching my eye. “Not shit, I guess.” He swirls the liquid causing the bubbles to fizz. “But I’d rather have some Henny.”
“Henny?”
Sean laughs. “Hennessy. I’m surprised a little rich girl like you hasn’t heard of it.”
“I have heard of it. I’ve just never heard someone call it that. And is money all you see when you look at me?” I become annoyed.
“No, I see a girl who’s probably going to break my brother’s heart once she’s done with law school.”
“Why would you say a thing like that?” I snap. “I love Ryan.”
“I’m sure you do, today. But the pauper never ends up with the princess, he ends up on his ass.”
Sean is beginning to piss me off.
“Are you trying to start a fight?”
“I’m always trying to start a fight.” Sean finishes the rest of his champagne arrogantly.
“I’m not going to walk into your trap.” I stalk away from him and lean on the railing on the other side of the balcony. I look down into the crowd below and spot Ryan on a pedestal, snake-charming a bunch of women. He’s shirtless and wearing a pair of faded blue jeans that are hanging off his hips, the entire waistband of his white Calvin Klein’s exposed. And for a hot minute, I wish it was my name stitched onto the elastic so every single woman in this freakin’ club would know exactly whom he belongs to.
M.E.
Ryan spins and twirls effortlessly around the pole like they’re old friends, the strobe lights beating off his body as he moves. I stare mesmerized, realizing he can hypnotize me just as easily as those strangers on the floor. Watching him in his element is a duality for me; it kills my spirit just as much as it makes it soar.
“Show pony, isn’t he?” Sean leans on the railing next to me, snapping me out of my daze.
“Jealous your brother gets all the attention?”
“I’m not jealous, I’m worried.”
“You don’t strike me as the worrying type.”
“About him I do.”
“And what is it that you worry about, Sean?”
“That he’s going to end up just like me.”
“Only if he steals your identity.” I snort.
Sean cocks an eyebrow at me.
I stand up straight and get right in his face. Brother or not, I’m not going to let him get in my head, or Ryan’s, for that matter. “I’m going to be blunt with you. Ryan and I may come from different socioeconomic backgrounds, you know what that is, right? Tell me if the little rich girl uses too many big words,” I bite and Sean just nods mutely. “Ryan and I are more alike than you will ever know. So, don’t come at me like you know me. Because you don’t know jack shit. I don’t buy for one second that you’re concerned about him, because if you were, he wouldn’t have spent three years in jail for something you did.”
Sean clenches his jaw like I just slapped him across the face; an inferno of emotion blazing in his blue eyes.
“It doesn’t bother you that Ryan goes Full Monty for a living?”
Of course, it does. I hate it, but I love him.
“If it did, would I be standing here wasting my time with you?”
Sean glares at me like he’s ready to brawl. If he wants to go, bring it. I’ll show him just how tough this little rich girl can be.
“Maybe Ryan does have a fighting chance with you, after all.”
“Maybe,” I respond snidely.
“Maybe, what?” Ryan’s voice carries over the music, and Sean and I both look over at him.
“Maybe nothing, Sean just needed some reassurance about something,” I share pseudo-sweetly.
“Anything I should know about?” Ryan pins Sean with an accusing look.
“Nope, nothing, bro. Your girl was just putting me in my place,” Sean says derisively.
“Right where you should be.” Ryan smiles scathingly. “Do you need a drink?” He slips a possessive arm around my waist.
“Like the desert needs rain.” I hand him my glass.
“So, are you ready to own me?” Ryan asks after several glasses of champagne. He has me pinned against the wall, his half-naked body pressed against mine, moving subtly to the music.
“I guess as I’ll ever be,” I murmur, completely spun up in the mix of Ryan’s hot and steamy alter ego and the heady effects of the alcohol. I understand why he’s so successful as Jack the Stripper, he exudes sexuality. He’s a seductive, beguiling, temptation that just fucking derails you.
Ryan takes my hand and leads me away from our little crowd. I give a small wave to Emily as I walk out the door. We head back downstairs and through the main room of the club, cutting across the dance floor. As we walk, a multitude of lustfu
l eyes size Ryan up, some even go so far as to touch him, caressing his arms and chest, like a devout harem.
It’s odd to experience, and just before we break away from the mass of dancers I hear someone hiss, “Lucky bitch.”
Suddenly a wave of possessiveness comes over me—lucky is right, he’s mine.
I squeeze his hand tighter as we slip through the hanging beads at the back of the club. We walk past the dozens of tiny alcoves where just like before, silhouettes of bodies are doing sinful and illicit things. And as the scent of lavender incense hits me, I’m transported back to the night Ryan and I spent here doing our own sinful and illicit things. My flesh heats, curious as to which room he’ll choose, but he just keeps going until we get to the end of the hall.
“Aren’t we going in one of those?” I point to the hanging beads behind us.
“Not tonight.” He glances back at me, and there is a mischievous look in his beautiful blue eyes.
He pulls a silver chain out of his pocket that has a gold key dangling on the end. Then he unlocks the door.
“What’s in there?” My curiosity is provoked.
“Take a look.” Ryan pushes the door open, and I poke my head inside.
I gasp at the opulence. It’s a bedroom. A beautifully decorated bedroom. I step in and spin around, inspecting each and every aspect of the space. It’s done in all pale colors—whites, creams and the softest of pinks. The walls are draped with sheer white fabric and illuminated with tiny twinkle lights.
“Why is there a bedroom in the back of a nightclub?” I ask astounded, while candlelight flickers all around us.
“We call it the B and B.” Ryan steps closer to me.
“And what does B and B stand for?”
“Boyfriend bedroom,” he answers, gauging my reaction. “It’s for the boyfriend experience.”
“Do I dare ask what the boyfriend experience is?”
“It’s the most private and personal service we offer.”
Service?
“And how many boyfriend experiences have you done?” I look around and have a feeling this goes above and beyond anything that happens behind those dangling crystals.
“Two,” he offers up seriously, “and they were both before you.”
“What about during me?” I small wave of nausea hits.
Ryan shakes his head strictly, his eyes boring into mine. “None, I couldn’t be close like that to anyone but you.”
“How close are we talking?”
“As close as one or the other allows.”
I gulp hard, trying to push the image of Ryan seducing another woman out of my head.
“If this makes you uncomfortable, we can leave.”
I stare at Ryan, trying to decipher my feelings.
“Women actually pay you for sex?”
“No, sex is implied, that would be prostitution,” Ryan clarifies, “but this is a lonely city and people crave intimacy. And that’s exactly what the boyfriend experience is about, catering to emotional needs.”
“But it’s not real.”
“It doesn’t have to be. It’s escapism. Like a ride at Disneyland.”
“You’re comparing it to the happiest place on Earth?”
“I’m only trying to make a point that there are all types of amusement park rides in life.”
“I just can’t grasp the concept.”
“You don’t have to. You’re one of the lucky ones, you’re loved.” He tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear.
I bat my eyelashes at Ryan. Despite the fact I’m standing in a beautifully decorated room of ill repute, I do feel lucky, and loved.
“Why exactly did you bring me here?” I glance at the huge, striking bed beside us that I absolutely adore. Its frame is white metal, the headboard and footboard shaped in a swirling, abstract design.
“I wanted to loosen you up a little. You’ve been so stressed lately.” His voice is genuinely sincere.
“What did you have in mind exactly?” I indulge him.
Ryan’s mouth spreads into a tempting smile. “Get undressed and I’ll show you.”
I put my hands on my hips. “I’m just supposed to strip down?”
“I don’t care how you get naked.” He pulls back the shiny cream comforter. “Just take your damn clothes off and lie on the bed.”
I glance hesitantly down at the sheets.
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Relax, it’s sanitary. You sleep on hotel mattresses, don’t you?”
“Not after tonight,” I snort.
“Just strip, already,” he orders.
“Bossy, bossy, I thought I was supposed to own you tonight?”
Ryan’s eyes absolutely glow with excitement. “Baby, you not only own me, you possess me.”
“I didn’t realize I had so much power.” I seductively pull my top over my head.
Ryan saunters over to me and slips his fingers through the belt loops of my jeans, then smashes my body into his. “You have power, you have force, and you irreversibly own my heart.” He claims my mouth, plunging his tongue straight between my lips. I melt into his body, but the kiss doesn’t last nearly long enough because as soon as I try to wrap my arms around his neck, he swiftly wiggles away.
Hey.
Ryan unfastens my jeans before pushing me down, speedily removing my boots and then my pants. He’s a pro. I’m left sitting in nothing but a black lacy bra and matching panties, my hair cascading down over my naked shoulders.
“On your stomach, woman,” Ryan orders, but I don’t comply immediately.
“I said . . .” He grabs my thighs and flips me over. “On. Your. Stomach.”
I let out a playful scream as I hit the mattress face down.
As soon as I hear Ryan undo the zipper of his jeans my stomach muscles clench. I will never, ever get enough of this man.
He begins to plant gentle kisses on the small of my back, working his way up until he reaches my bra. Unhooking the clasp effortlessly, he rips it out from underneath me, like a magic trick. Then there’s nothing, not a touch, or a stroke or a caress. I crane my head around to see Ryan digging in one of the nightstand drawers. It’s a pure white piece of rustic furniture, with soft edges and decorative handles. He pulls out a small bottle and tosses it on the bed.
“What the hell is that?”
“Massage oil. I hope you like the smell of peppermint because I’m giving you a rub down.” Sweet. The stress in my back is killer. “What did you think it was? Lube?”
“With you, I never know,” I tease.
He smirks as he crawls on top of me. “It can serve a dual purpose,” he divulges devilishly.
I pull my hair away from my neck and coil it on top of my head, the strands falling flaccidly onto the mattress. Ryan drips the liquid all over my skin, and I jerk from its cold feel. He then starts rubbing. Dear God, the small of my back warms with the oil, causing me to moan as he chases all the tension away. With increasing pressure he works his way up my spine and over my shoulders, using his thumbs to work out my knots. We could be mistaken for having sex with all the auditory responses he’s forcing out of me.
I close my eyes, inhale the thick scent of the peppermint, and listen to the dreamy music—“Stay” by Rihanna is playing softly in the background. I let my thoughts drift as Ryan manipulates my muscles. No one’s touch compares to his.
He slides his hands firmly up and down my back, then kneads over my butt, sneaking one finger inside me.
“Ryan!” I pop my head up from the ‘surprise’ slip.
“Oops.” He plays dumb, but there is a hint of seduction in his voice.
“Oops, my ass,” I respond cynically.
“And what a nice ass it is.” He rubs his hand underneath the lace of my cheeky panties.
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I like everything about you.” He sucks and kisses the middle of my back.
“I like everything about you, too,” I reply, but a small part of me knows that isn’t true.
<
br /> I try to push the thought out of my head, and before I have a chance to dwell, Ryan says my name. “Alana?”
“Umm-hmm?” I answer, focusing on his hands.
“There’s another reason I brought you here.”
I pop my eyes open. “What’s the reason?”
He’s quiet for a few moments before he speaks. “I got a five-thousand-dollar tip tonight.”
My eyes widen. “Holy shit, from whom?”
Ryan has come home with extra-large tips in the past, but never one as big as that.
“I can’t tell you her name, but I can tell you she’s a huge pop star.”
I recall the screaming coming through the wall in the VIP area, and now I’m positive Ryan was the cause of the piercing cries.
“That’s huge.” I press my cheek into the mattress not knowing what else to say.
Ryan sighs, “Alana, I need to know where your head is at.”
“In terms of what?” I immediately respond.
“Of us, our future.”
Future? I stare silently at one of the large crystal candelabras sprinkled around the room, glimmering in the candlelight.
“You’re going to be done with school soon—”
“I don’t have a job lined up yet, Ryan.”
“I know, that’s why I need to know,” he pauses, pressing harder against my muscles causing me to groan. “The owners approached me a few days ago, they’re expanding. Opening a Culture in Las Vegas, and they want me to headline it.”
“What?” I push myself up and Ryan rolls off me. I sit up, covering my bare breasts with my arm, my hair falling like a golden veil around my body. “Is that what you want? To go to Vegas?”
“Yes.” He’s blunt, and it stops my heart.
“Is this what you were trying to tell me right before you licked me senseless all afternoon?”
“Sort of.” Ryan’s mouth spreads into a wide, salacious smile. “But just so we’re clear. I only licked you senseless because that’s how I wanted to spend my afternoon. Not because I was keeping it from you. I just didn’t know how to ask.”
“Ask what?”
“If you’ll come with me.”
“What?” I nearly fall off the bed. “To Las Vegas?”
“Alana, just listen.” He scoots onto his knees. “This would be major money for me, a chance to set us up for a good long while. And maybe you can find a job in Vegas? Your uncle might know someone. And it wouldn’t be permanent. We’ll come back, because I know New York is where you want to be,” he rattles.
