She gives me a sly look and grabs my wrist. "Watch me."
I chuckle. "This is gonna be good."
1 Oak is one of the trendiest and most exclusive clubs in the city. It's where celebrities hang and the infamous after-parties are usually held following big events. I have no idea why she thinks we’ll actually get in. I have no doubt we're going to be refused once we actually get to the front, if we even get there. There's always a line, and it never seems to move. The drinks are expensive as hell—we're not talking twelve bucks either.
We stride up to the front and all eyes are on us. Natalie struts like she's on the runway. I'm not a shy girl, but the alcohol and pill are making me more confident than ever. I feel good, sexy, ready to conquer the world.
"Natalie, my beautiful leading lady. Always a pleasure," the massive bouncer says.
I eye him up and down. He looks like he was born on steroids. He brings his wrist to his mouth like he's in the CIA and whispers into it. He doesn't do a very good job at keeping his voice low—it's impossible when there's a deep hoarseness to it. He presses the earpiece in his ear and nods before responding with something about VIP.
"Clive, my sexy Dominican. I hope to see you later?" Natalie says flirtatiously, and leans in to palm the side of his face and kiss the other cheek.
His eyes are hungry, and he gives her a look I feel is one only she would understand, then he turns to me and rakes an I-want-to-fuck-you-hard-and-then-never-see-you-again look down my body. I let him look and don't withdraw.
"Bring your lady friend with you and we'll make it a night we'll never forget."
Her chuckle is airy, and she says, "Keep the drinks flowing and anything is possible."
He raises a brow and looks intrigued, but I know she's just playing the game and giving him what he wants. He smirks and opens the door to the club. My eyes widen a little, but I conceal my shock and walk side-by-side with Natalie.
The hip-hop thumping from the speakers makes me want to get on the dance floor immediately. Chills of excitement roll down my arms. I take in my surroundings. Strobe lights flash over the bronze interior, and there's a large chandelier right in the center with massive baby orchid arrangements along the walls. It's crowded but at a comfortable level.
I’m in awe. I've never been inside a club like this, and I sure as hell didn't expect to get in. It exemplifies class and sophistication, and I'm suddenly in love with the idea of being here.
"Told ya." Natalie smirks. We hit the bar first.
"How'd you do that?" I ask. She lifts two fingers to the bartender and orders us a drink. I have no idea what she orders, and I really don't care.
"You know I never kiss and tell."
It's true. She never lets her lips flap and always thinks before she speaks.
"Nat, I want to know. This is an exclusive club!"
She gives me a droll stare and leans in so she doesn’t have to scream over the booming music. "My dad knows people, and those people know me."
Though I've never met him, Natalie's father is supposedly one of the biggest, most well-known names in the city. Some multi-millionaire, something or other. Gag me. They all claim to be a big shot.
"But I thought you didn't really talk to him."
"Not often, but I use his name when I need to. This is one of the businesses he used to rep. He saved the owners’ asses big time and they're basically indebted to him forever."
I don't buy her story, but I don't question it either. Natalie isn't the type to use her parents’ connections when she doesn't have the best relationship with them to begin with. When she wants to tell me the truth, she will.
The drinks are placed in front of us with a wink from the bartender. I don’t ask what’s in it, I just take a sip. The sweet liquor is like candy on my tongue and goes down too easy, loosening me up. I exhale and my skin tingles, my heart fluttering with anticipation. I’m feeling good, like I’m high on a cloud when "Promises" by Calvin Harris and Sam Smith plays through the speakers. My eyes widen.
"I love this song!" I scream, and Natalie laughs.
I really do love this song. I sway side to side as the alcohol pumps through my veins and that impending rush from the Molly begins to stream through my blood. Tonight I'm letting go and having fun. Come Monday, it’ll be back to the grind.
"Drink up. Let’s go dance!" Nat yells.
We finish our drinks and then head to the dance floor. Lights are dimmed and the laser lines slow down until the beat drops. The DJ spins the music into a perfect fusion of hard pounding bass and edgy techno. The sounds rip through the speakers and we lift our arms in the air and roll our heads back, letting our bodies move to the rhythm. I explode with euphoria, the rush finally here.
My head is hazy and I'm soaring high, chasing the feeling of sheer rapture. A lazy smile tips my lips and I'm suddenly so happy Natalie talked me into going out. It's not often I get to do anything for myself, not with working so much and going to school.
Lost Boyz mixed with Jay-Z blend into the music. Natalie taps my shoulder and I look at her. She points to something behind me and I turn around to look. Fucking hell. I recognize the face behind the DJ table. DJ DiModa. He spins breakbeats and old school hip-hop. He’s the fucking scratch king of NYC.
"Shout out to my homegirl, Natalie, and her friend, Aubrey. Happy Birthday, babe!" he says, the mic pressed to his mouth. Holding the headset to his shoulder, his arm swiftly shifts back and forth until the beat drops again, and he lets go.
"What the fuck! No way!" I scream in absolute shock. “How do you know him?”
I’m beginning to think my best friend lives a double life, and I've just been given a little glimpse.
Five
The music slows down, and just as "Into You" by Fabulous comes on, I feel a body sidle up behind me. He places his face to the column of my neck and his scruffy beard teases my heated skin, causing tingles to wash over me. I lean back into him, feeling the heat of his body pressed against my back. A lazy, feel-good smile curves my lips and a purr escapes my throat.
Natalie takes my little clutch purse, freeing my hands. She disappears into the crowd with a knowing smile. My eyes roll shut as I let myself go. Having someone's hands all over me while on Molly just makes everything feel that much better.
My dance partner wraps his muscular arms around my front, and I lift my arms and wrap them around the back of his neck. He towers over me, making me feel small and petite. Our bodies move in perfect harmony, hips swaying to the sensual rhythm. He settles one hand on my stomach, his fingers splayed out make his hand appear large, the other lands on my hip, giving it a good squeeze.
"I've been watching you dance all night. The things I want to do to you," he says, and it sends chills down my spine.
My nipples harden and I press my ass into him, grinding into his hard cock. He growls against my neck, then peppers kisses down it just the right way to work me up.
A winning grin spreads across my face. There’s something about having the power to cause a man to fall to his knees with desire that gets me going. He pushes his cock against me. I wouldn't be surprised if he's on some kind of pill too. In my experience, it’s more like who isn't on something at a club in New York City.
The mixture of drugs, music, and his voice fills my every fiber with hunger for more. Our bodies continue to move in unison, as if we're fucking on the dance floor. Everything feels divine, and I turn around to face him.
Cute, good-looking. He'll do.
His eyes are glazed over, like I'm sure mine are, and the desire is as thick as the air between us. I work his body like a stripper pole. He watches, his gaze darkening, and I give him a seductive smile.
"Tell me what you wanna do to me," I say, my voice husky.
"You want to know?” he says, and growls. "I'd rather show you."
He guides my arms around his neck and pulls me close, taking control. He grinds his hips against mine. His nostrils flare, and I inhale a deep breath from the ache build
ing between my legs. He moves one hand to the small of my back and clutches my neck with the other, kissing me ruthlessly, savagely. I melt against him as he fucks my mouth, giving me a preview of what’s to come.
The dancing heats up between us to a dangerous level. I can barely breathe with the way he's consuming me, stroking me with his tongue, taking me higher and higher. He shifts one of his thick thighs between my legs and I grind on it. A purr escapes my lips and I press down harder, squeezing him. My minidress shifts a little higher on my legs. I hope my ass doesn't show, but at the same time, I really don't care. All modesty goes out the window when Molly arrives.
My nipples ache to be touched and my panties are sticking to my needy flesh. My rando for the night takes my hand and places it between us, leaving me no choice but to grab his length over his jeans.
Fuck. His wide cock intensifies my lust for him.
"Come on, big boy." I lean into him. "Show me what you got."
We slam into the men's bathroom and lock the door. He stalks me like a predator across the small room, which heightens my desire. Every woman loves the chase. Goose bumps dance down my arms and a seductive smile curves my lips. I want him on me, devouring me. I want him to take control and make me forget my name.
Rando spins me around and shoves my stretchy dress up to my waist, then he gives my ass a good, hard slap. I grab the counter and arch my ass a little higher in the air. Anticipation electrifies my veins as I look at my reflection in the dirty mirror. My glossy eyes and flushed cheeks make me look high as hell. The sound of a zipper catches my ears and I watch while he unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out.
"Condom," I say, breathless.
"No shit," he responds.
He pulls out a foil packet from his back pocket and rips it open, then rolls the condom down his thick, long length. Grabbing my hips, he roughly yanks them back so there's a deep sweep in my back. With one tug, he rips my panties off and drops them to the floor. He swipes his hand between my thighs and his eyes light up.
"You're so fucking wet. This is going to be good."
He grabs his cock and angles it at my entrance, then drives into me in one hard stroke. I fall forward, my elbows hitting the marble counter, and I gasp from the intrusion. The pressure feels good, just how I like it, but I need a second to adjust.
"Oh, no, babe. You hold yourself up and fuck me back."
His dirty talk is all I need. What a little hussy I can be when I party.
I push myself up and thrust my hips back. He grabs my hair and wraps it around his fist, and gives it a good tug. I grunt. He's so deep at this angle that I can't tell if I love it or hate it, but then I look at us in the mirror and watch our joined bodies slap into each other, and I answer my own question. We line up just right, and for once I'm happy to tower over most women. His hand slips to the front of my pussy, finding my clit. Thank God he knows where it is and how to circle it with precision. A loud moan rolls off my shameless lips. My thighs quiver with anticipation as I thirst for more.
"Those fucking heels kill me," he says, thrusting in so deep that I draw in an audible breath. For eight hundred dollars they better fucking kill him.
My gaze drifts down to my shoes and even I have to admit I look good in them.
"Damn, you can fuck," he says. "Most chicks just lie there."
That produces a smile from me. I do try.
"How boring," I respond, and his hips pick up speed.
Our thighs slapping against one another and the sound of heavy breathing echoes throughout the bathroom. He grabs my face and turns it toward him. Our tongues meet and that's all we both need to push us over the edge. My guy releases my hair and wraps his strong arm around my waist to hold me to him while he teases my clit. I love being held down and restricted. I rear back so he plunges harder, deeper. A few more thrusts and he's rolling his hips into me slow but hard, making us both come at the same time. I whimper at the feel of him twitching inside me. He grunts, and I can tell he's relishing in the pleasure just as much as I am.
"Gotta love fucking on E. Nothing compares," he says, pulling out once our pleasure subsides. I almost fall but he grabs me to hold me up. "Especially with a chick as hot as you who can take cock like a pro."
"Tell me about it," I say, trying to catch my breath. "I can go all night, especially with a man who knows what he's doing." I counter.
He shoots me a wicked grin as he pulls the condom off and drops it into the trash. He picks up my ripped panties and dumps them too, then places his cock back into his pants just as I push my dress down and fix my hair.
"How about we have a couple of shots then get back on the dance floor?"
I smile at him. "I'm down for that."
We walk back to the bar with his arm around my shoulders like we're dating, and find Natalie talking to a stranger and throwing back shots.
"Ohhhh I see you got a birthdaygasm with a hottie." She's grinning from ear to ear and slides my purse to me.
"It's your birthday?" my rando asks. "Tell me you're legal."
I laugh, I can't help it. I've always been told I look young for my age. "Twenty-one today."
"Thank fuck," he says, and waves for a round of shots.
"Ready to hit the next club?" Natalie asks after the shots are delivered.
"Where are we off to?"
"Marquee."
Natalie’s rando groans. "I never get into that club."
"That's because you don't have a female with you," Natalie says, and I look at her in confusion. "Marquee doesn't usually let a man in unless he has a girl. They have strict rules." She clarifies.
I smirk. "Guess it's your lucky night," I say to her guy. I pull my own man in for a kiss and then look at Natalie. "He's with me all night."
We take one last shot, then walk downstairs to hail a taxi to West Chelsea. It takes ten minutes to get to Marquee with traffic, and just like at 1 Oak, we’re ushered to the VIP section.
We spend the rest of the night dancing and drinking, with a few rounds of hot, drug-induced sex in the bathroom.
"What’s your name?" my rando asks as we part ways.
"Felicia." It’s been fun, but like hell I’m giving him my real name.
"I'm never gonna see you again, am I?"
"Nope," I chuckle.
"Damn," he whispers. His grin is so fucking cute I almost give him my real info. “Well, thanks for one hell of a night.”
"Thanks, guys, for the drinks and orgasms, but we gotta go," Natalie says playfully, and we take off in a different direction.
We walk a couple of blocks, giggling over nothing, while trying not to trip in our heels over the uneven pavement. If we weren't as drunk as sailors it wouldn't be an issue, but right now I'm seeing triple and I wonder just how bad my best friend is.
"How many fingers," I ask as we reach the end of the sidewalk. We're waiting on the light to change so we can cross the street. As wasted as we are, we’d probably get caught and ticketed if we jaywalked, or worse, we’d get hit by a car.
Her face pinches up and she squints. "Hmmm. Both hands!" she says happily, and I bust out laughing.
I had four fingers up.
About thirty minutes later, we stop at one of the many pizzerias open all night and get slices as big as our heads. I watch the counter boy remove them from the oven like I’ve been starved for years. My mouth waters as I inhale the scent of the cheese bubbling and toasty crust baking in the brick oven New York City is known for. He plates two greasy slices and sets them in front of us.
"This is the best fucking pizza I've ever had in my life," Natalie slurs after she takes a bite. I laugh so hard at the sound of her voice my vision blurs with unshed tears.
I lift my slice to my mouth and drop it back down.
"Fuck!" That shit burned my top lip. I grab my drink and plunge my mouth into it, and blow bubbles in the cool liquid like the little shits I nanny for.
I look up in relief and Natalie points to my mouth. She tries not to laugh but
fails miserably.
"I bet I look like I have herpes now." I grimace and roll my eyes. Nat doubles over in laughter.
My lip is swollen and pulsating. I didn't take note how hot my slice was, even though it came straight from the oven.
This birthday is by far the best one I’ve ever had, pizza-herpes lip and all, and I have my bestie to thank for it.
I glance around the counter at the pizza joint we’re sitting in. Somehow, we ended up in the touristy part of the city, a place we never try to be. I guess we were too distracted and laughing to realize how far we had walked. Times Square is great for people watching, just not at three in the morning when the creatures of the night come out to play. But something is missing…
"Where's your purse?" I ask as I fish my phone out of my clutch.
Natalie looks at me, but her eyes drift over my shoulder. "What purse?"
Six
"I fucking hate you," I say, holding the side of my head.
There's too much light in the living room and it's causing a throb in my temples. I turn over on the couch and bury my head under a pillow. We both couldn’t take a step farther to our rooms last night and had crashed here.
"Today is going to be the worst day ever." Natalie chuckles, then whimpers.
"What time is it? I feel like we've been sleeping all day."
"I don't know, I can't find my purse."
"That's because you lost it," I respond, my head still under the pillow.
"At least it wasn't my shoes this time. Give me your phone so I can cancel my cards and order a new cell."
"You're not going to even try to find it?" I ask, groaning, and move the pillow off my head to stare at her. My head is killing me, but I won't bother with an aspirin. It’s not like it will help the hangover anyway.
Nat pops up and gives me an aggravated look. "Aub, do you remember all the places we hit last night?"
I hesitate for a moment. "Nope."
Hush, Hush Page 3
