Mister Diamond

by Chance Carter

  “Surprise!” Emily squealed.

  “Oh my gosh!” I tried to wipe the shock off my face as I gave Emily a hug and helped her with her suitcase. “You came all the way up here for me?!”

  Emily laughed. “You think I would miss my future sister-in-law’s bachelorette party?!” She paused to motion to Liana. “You’ve got a pretty great friend here. She arranged the whole thing.”

  I thanked Liana and introduced the two, then brought them both back upstairs to help finish my half-curled hair. After two more bathroom trips and one curling wand burn, I said goodbye to Alexander, who promised to stay in touch through text messages, and we headed off to my pre-wedding celebration.

  The limousine that sat out front of the house was yet another surprise I wasn’t expecting. I thanked Liana for her thoughtfulness, and it occurred to me—not for the first time that evening—that we probably weren’t going to be having the low key dinner and dancing Liana had promised.

  “Liana, this wasn’t necessary,” I said, as we started on our way to pick up Jane, Stacey, Angelica, and Grace. “This was so sweet of you.”

  Liana offered up a sly grin. “Actually, this is more for us,” she laughed. “We didn’t want to have to worry about having to find another DD.”

  The three of us shared in a laugh. “We aren’t just going to dinner and dancing, are we?” I asked.

  “The itinerary is a surprise,” Emily cut in, before Liana had the chance to answer. Liana nodded in agreement. By the time we finally had all the other girls in the limo, an hour had passed and my stomach was grumbling. Liana must’ve heard, because she offered up a bag of cashews from a compartment in the limousine I hadn’t even noticed.

  My main worry of the night had subsided. My immediate reaction when I saw Emily at my door was excitement, but I slightly panicked that she wouldn’t hit it off with the other girls. I also worried because Grace didn’t know anyone and Angelica hadn’t seen the others for at least three or four years. Luckily, a bachelorette party and booze seemed to be the perfect recipe to get everyone chatting like they’d been friends for years.

  “Miss you already. Boys took me to some mega arcade,” Liana said during a rare quiet moment. It took me a minute to realize she had swiped my phone off the seat between us and was reading a message Alexander had just sent. Everyone laughed, and I was just thankful that the text message hadn’t been something inappropriate—especially since his sister was sitting just a few feet away.

  As we pulled up to the restaurant, Jane pulled a white sash from her purse. “The bride-to-be has to put this on,” she said.

  “That’s ok,” I replied. “It’s really not necessary.” A chorus of “boo” and “c’mon” left me no choice. I slipped the “Bride-to-Be” sash over my dress and bump as everyone cheered me on.

  Dinner was at a family-style Italian restaurant I’d been to a few times over the years, normally for birthday celebrations and office holiday lunches. For once, I was glad to have the excuse that I was eating for two, because the food at the restaurant was incredible. For the seven of us, we ordered Caesar salad, fettucine alfredo, chicken marsala, eggplant parmigiana, and meatballs. Needless to say, there were tons of leftovers, and I heard more than one complaint from the girls that they wanted their dress to fit well for the wedding and the delicious meals weren’t helping.

  I had to admit that Liana had picked well. I would’ve never considered the restaurant for a bachelorette party, as there were plenty of Italian restaurants closer to my side of town, but it was a great choice.

  “Where are we off to next?” Grace asked. I was glad I wasn’t the only one who felt completely out of the loop.

  “Emily and I are the only ones who know,” Liana said, smirking. “Let’s go find out!” We paid the bill and went back to the limousine. We couldn’t have been driving for more than five minutes when we stopped outside of a bar. I couldn’t quite make out the name from the angle I was sitting at, but I did see something that left me puzzled: a light-up sign with the words “Strip Club”.

  I turned to Liana. “Liana, what the hell is going on?” I asked, confused more than anything. “Strippers?”

  “I think this is a strip club for dudes,” Angelica, not the sharpest tool in the shed, added.

  My eyes went back and forth from Liana to Emily, searching for answers. “Trust me, Case,” Liana said. “Follow me.”

  Liana went up to the bouncer and spoke with him briefly. The next thing I knew, we were shuffling into a dark building filled with glitter and the smell of sex. Liana, who had taken the lead, motioned to us to follow her, and, with no better plan in mind, we obliged. We walked right past the men drooling over the dancers, men who had no better way to spend their Saturday night, until we were finally in another, smaller room.

  The room had a small stage with a few poles, and a crowd of chairs on the floor beneath it. A waitress, dressed in little more than what I wore to bed on nights I wanted to feel sexy, followed us inside. “Renee will be with you in a few,” she said. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”

  “Vodka cranberry for me,” Emily said.

  “I’ll have a Long Island Iced Tea, please,” Jane said, catching me by surprise. She was usually more of a stuck-up drink kind of girl.

  “Can I have a Mai Tai?” Grace asked.

  Liana opted for a martini, while Stacey and Angelica ordered some drink I had never heard of. It was my turn to order.

  I shrugged. “I’ll have a Shirley Temple.” Apparently, my contrast in drink choice was laughable, because even the waitress let out a small laugh. “What?” I giggled and glanced down at my bump. “I want something special to drink, but little miss here won’t let me have the good stuff.”

  We took turns guessing why we were at this strange strip club as we waited for Renee—whoever she was—to join us. The waitress came back a few minutes later with our drinks, to a roaring round of applause for my friends who were already a bit tipsy from killing two bottles of wine at dinner.

  My phone buzzed. Brett’s already hammered as can be, Alexander’s text message said. I replied with a laughing emoji and took a sip of my Shirley Temple. If I wasn’t going to get a martini, this was the next best thing, I supposed.

  “Welcome, ladies,” a voice said. We looked up to the stage to see one of the most toned women I’d ever seen. Her abdominal muscles peaked out between her high-waisted shorts and sports bra, and I had to admit that I envied her a bit. I was self-conscious enough as it was, but, with this watermelon-sized stomach of mine, it had gotten to a new level. “I’m Renee, and I’ll be your instructor today.”

  I gulped. “Instructor?” I asked aloud, directing it both at Renee and Liana.

  “We’re going to spend the next hour or so learning the ins and outs of pole dancing,” Renee said.

  There it was. I knew Liana too well to think she would keep thing simple—and appropriate. I looked around to gauge the reaction of my friends, especially Emily, who I still didn’t know all that well, but they all seemed surprisingly excited. Grace, who was Miss By-The-Books at the clinic, even mumbled something about learning new moves to impress her man.

  “You guys really want to do this?” I whispered to Emily, Jane, and Angelica, who were sitting to my left. They all nodded without hesitation. “Alrighty, then.”

  I soon came up with the excuse that none of us were wearing the right clothing for pole dancing, but, yet again, Liana was one step ahead of me. She had subtly asked everyone for their shirt sizes a few days earlier and gotten custom shirts made for each of us. Each girl got a “Casey’s Last Fling Before the Ring” tank top and a pair of matching sh0rts to wear. As bummed as I was to not have an excuse not to partake in the pole dancing, I was touched by how much thought Liana had put into everything. I couldn’t believe she had managed to plan all this on top of helping me with the invitations, and the centerpieces, and the place cards, and the décor.

  We all hurriedly changed into our new outfits, took a
quick group picture, and stretched before we began. As I put my blue dress on the chair I’d been sitting on, I checked my phone one more time. There was one message from Alexander. This is Benji. Your future hubs has definitely exceeded his regular alcohol consumption… by a mile. Disregard any messages he may send. Hope you’re having fun!

  I couldn’t help but chuckle. It was his bachelor party, so of course he was going to have some drinks. Thanks for the heads up! I wrote. Good to know. I was a firm believer in the idea that a drunk man’s words were a sober man’s thoughts, but I also wanted Alexander to enjoy himself. After all, he’d gone from a bachelor living the single life to a soon-to-be husband and father in less than a year. He deserved to have some fun. It was time to get my pole dance on.

  As the guest of honor, I was the one invited—well, forced—to be Renee’s test dummy. We started by learning about loosening up our bodies, then moved on to “becoming one” with the pole. This was possibly the furthest thing out of my comfort zone I’d ever done besides sleeping with Alexander before the first date, but that had turned out well. I tried to throw my reservations to the side and focus on the task at hand. Maybe Grace was right, and we could leave here with some impressive new moves for the bedroom.

  I had to admit that pole dancing wasn’t nearly as intimidating as it sounded or looked. In fact, I’d even say it was fun, to a degree. It required strong abdominal muscles, which I didn’t have, and a great deal of concentration, which wasn’t my strong suit, but, for a bachelorette party, it ended up being a blast. I tried my best to focus on following Renee’s instructions, but my natural clumsiness got in the way. Split. Shimmy. Grip the pole. I knew I wasn’t great, but the girls all cheered one another on like we were Olympic-level pole dancers.

  We ended the session with a dance-off, with each of us putting on a little show for the rest of us, and ultimately voting on who was the best. The surprise came when Emily put us all to shame. Even Renee was impressed by how quickly she’d taken to the pole. “It’s all thanks to medical school,” Emily explained. “It taught me how to pay attention and memorize things without thinking too much about them.”

  Liana had booked the private room for another hour, so everyone got another round of drinks as we chatted about my upcoming wedding and the baby. “So, when’s the baby shower?” Jane asked.

  I laughed. “I think tonight was more than enough pre-wedding and pre-baby fun. This should hold me over until the baby’s first birthday, at least.”

  We each took one final leap around the pole on our way out of the strip club. “We’ll have to do this again soon,” Liana joked.

  “Yeah, right,” I laughed.

  My phone buzzed as I stepped into the limo, and I did my best to glance down subtly. I love you sooooo much and I can’t wait to marry you. You looked sexy in that dress tonight. I blushed as I read Alexander’s words, and breathed a sigh of relief that his drunk words were just as kind and wonderful as his sober ones.

  Chapter 30

  Alexander

  It was finally here… the day I’d been dreaming of since the moment I’d first spoken to Casey in the clinic. Our wedding had approached quickly, but it had also been one of the slowest months of my life since Casey had asked if we could have the wedding before the baby came. I was excited to officially make her my wife.

  As I adjusted my bowtie in the mirror, I looked at my reflection and thought back onto the past eight and a half months. It had been a complete whirlwind. On one hand, it felt like it was just yesterday that Casey and I were in the break room of the clinic making love. On the other hand, it felt like I’d known her my whole life. It was crazy to look back on those first few weeks. I remembered thinking, “Hey, I donate sperm anyway. Why not add some passion into the process?” That felt like a lifetime ago. What had started out as a business arrangement of sorts had developed into something more. I thanked my lucky stars that Casey had been willing to give our relationship a shot after the rocky beginning.

  Who would’ve thought that Alexander Preston, thirty-year-old bachelor and notorious workaholic, chronic gym rat and living in his own world, would be saying “I do” to a woman who was about to have his child? Twenty-nine-year-old me would’ve shook his head and laughed. My future plans had been foggy, at best, but Casey had made them clear. I pulled my tux jacket over my shoulders with a confidence that I—confident as I generally was—had never felt before. It was all Casey.

  I admired Casey’s enthusiasm about the wedding, but I was still trying to understand her request that we sleep in separate houses the night before the wedding. She had said that it was bad luck to sleep together the night before the wedding, but I didn’t see how spending a night apart from the person I intended to spend the rest of my life with made any difference. Of course, Casey had gotten her way. I wasn’t about to rain on her parade. Nonetheless, I’d missed Casey greatly. I longed for her lips on mine, to see her one more time before we met at the end of the aisle.

  Without giving it much thought, I pressed Casey’s speed dial button on my phone and listened impatiently as it rang and rang. “Hello?”

  “Hi, I’m looking for my bride,” I said with a laugh.

  Casey giggled. “I think you have the wrong number.” She let her joke settle before adding, “What’s up?”

  “Come to my dressing room,” I said. “I want to see you.”

  “Alexander,” she gushed. “I have to get ready! I need to get into my dress soon!”

  I tried to put on my most seductive voice. “What’s another few minutes going to hurt?” With a deal struck that Casey could be back in her bridal suite within ten minutes, she agreed to come see me.

  I heard footsteps coming down the hallway and opened the door to greet my soon-to-be bride. There she was, her makeup already done to perfection. Her eyeshadow shimmered in the sunlight that made its way through the hall window, and she was absolutely glowing. Casey’s bump looked adorable peeking through the floral robe. “Hey, hot stuff,” she said. I still couldn’t believe she was talking about me. “Now you saw me, just like you wanted.”

  She playfully turned around to leave, and I pulled her in with a twirl and kissed her hard. “Not so fast,” I laughed. Casey followed me into my dressing room, which was really nothing more than a converted office with carpeting, a few couches, and a mirror. Even the metal beams that had clearly been intended to hold up the foundation were prominent and nondescript. Noticing Casey eyeing the room, I said, “How does this compare to your bridal suite?”.

  “You want the honest answer?” she asked, smiling. I nodded. “It kicks your dressing room’s ass! It has more mirrors than I can count, and a mini fridge stocked with champagne, and a bunch of snacks, and sofas that are so comfortable I could fall asleep right on them.”

  I shook my head. “I guess the bride’s more important than the groom, huh?”

  “I guess so,” Casey said in a sensual voice. She moved her lips toward mine and just barely grazed them. “What the bride wants, the bride gets.”

  Before I knew what was happening, Casey was unbuttoning my shirt and sliding it off of my body. Our lips and tongues gravitated toward one another with an unstoppable force. “We have to make this quick,” she whispered. As I pulled off my pants, Casey went over and turned the lock into place. Lucky for me, her bridal robe made it easy to undress her. In one swift motion, I pulled the tie to the robe open and slid it onto the floor.

  Casey’s curves made her a million times sexier than I ever thought possible. Her wide hips were soft to the touch, and I ran my fingers softly up and down them as I began kissing her neck. “You know we’re getting married in, like, half an hour, right?” I said.

  “That makes it all the more fun,” Casey said softly into my ear. I loved the frisky side of Casey, and who was I to deny the bride of her wishes on her wedding day? Besides, the wedding couldn’t start without us. We could take as long as we wanted—but I liked a challenge.

  Instead of following me over t
o the sofa, Casey walked over to one of the metal beams. “What’re you doing, babe?” I asked.

  “Just sit down and enjoy the show,” she said, as if she were a dominatrix bossing around a client.

  I planted my naked ass on the sofa and waited to find out what “show” Casey was talking about. Boy, was I in for a surprise. Casey quickly wiped down the pole with her robe, but I didn’t mind the interruption. I had the perfect view of her sexy body. Casey slid up and down the pole, twirling about it so that her bottom, covered in nothing but a lacey, white thong, was in full view. I watched as Casey did a little shimmy, making sure that her breasts poured out of her bra for me to enjoy. She then used the pole as a dancing prop, touching herself in ways that turned me on beyond measure. This was the only show I needed for the rest of my life.

  I fanned myself with my hand as Casey moved her body in ways I hadn’t even known was possible. Damn, I wished I was that pole. On the other hand, I was quite enjoying watching, and I know that my visible squirming and drooling only gave Casey more fuel. She was enjoying the game.

  Casey did a sexy strut over to where I was sitting, carefully removing her thong and bra as she walked. I could feel my lower half stiffen as my jaw dropped in amazement. Every time I thought she couldn’t possibly get any sexier, she managed to prove me wrong. Casey sat herself atop my lap and whispered in my ear, “I’m going to make you moan, Mr. Preston.”

  I shuddered, my soldier dancing for joy. It had been years since I’d been to a strip club—probably since Brett’s bachelor party—but Casey reminded me of all that had been missing. What she didn’t know, however, is that she was better-looking and more seductive than all of those erotic dancers combined. Casey moved about my lap, gyrating in ways that caused me to wonder how much longer I could last without any release. It was a more sensual side of her than I’d ever seen before, even in our friskiest of encounters.