“Oh, no,” Lexi says. “Let’s go. If we don’t leave now, you two will end up back in the shower. And based on how long you were moaning, your man has some stamina.”
Ryan nuzzles his face into the curve of my neck and chuckles. “You need to find new friends.”
“She’s not my friend,” I joke. “She’s family.”
“I’m both,” Lexi cuts in, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from Ryan. “And there’s nobody like me.”
We take an Uber to the Strip and have him drop us off in front of a popular Italian restaurant for dinner. We each order a martini, and after begging Ryan to please loosen up, he orders a whiskey. We spend dinner talking and laughing, having a good time. I might live several hours away from Lexi and Georgia, but distance has never prevented us from remaining close. Two—maybe three—martinis later and we’re ready to get our dancing on.
After Ryan pays the bill, insisting if any of us tried it would chip away at his masculinity, we head over to Club LA. It’s a new club Lexi heard about and is dying to check out. When we arrive, there’s a line fifty people deep. I’m about to suggest we go somewhere else, when Ryan takes my hand and walks us to the front of the line. He shakes hands with the bouncer, quickly introducing us. Apparently he’s one of the guys who is stationed at the same base as Ryan.
“Damn, Ryan, your cool factor just got raised a couple notches,” Lexi yells over the music thumping through the speakers. “You’re the last person I expected to know anyone working at a club.”
“He’s in the military,” Ryan explains. “The guys who aren’t active duty have to work full-time jobs to make ends meet. The military doesn’t pay a whole lot.”
I consider asking him if he’s active duty, but push the thought aside. Being ignorant might not be the smartest decision, but it’s the less stressful option. Ryan only got home a couple weeks ago. We have plenty of time to deal with reality. For right now I just want to live in our little bubble. He’s home safe and in bed with me every night, and that’s all I care about right now.
We step up to the bar and Ryan raises his hand to get the bartender’s attention. She gives a small nod, indicating she saw him, and then walks over.
“What can I get you?”
“I’ll take a rum and Coke,” Lexi says. When Ryan’s friend let us in, he stamped all of our hands assuming we were as old as Ryan.
“I’ll have a lemon drop,” I tell her.
“Water,” Ryan says.
“No way,” I argue. “You promised you would let loose. He’ll have a whiskey neat,” I tell the bartender since that’s what he was drinking at the restaurant.
Georgia orders the same as me and then Lexi adds four double shots to the order.
“We’re going to be crawling out of here,” I warn.
“If we party right.” She winks saucily, handing her credit card over to the bartender before Ryan can. “You paid for dinner. I got the drinks.”
“Not happening.” He snags her card from the bartender and hands her his.
The bartender comes back a couple minutes later with our drinks. We each take a shot, leaving the glasses on the bar top, and then take our drinks with us to a booth that’s near the dance floor.
After Lexi begs Georgia to dance with her, they take off onto the dance floor, while Ryan and I get comfortable in the booth. He pulls me into his lap and runs his hands up and down the length of my arms, trailing kisses along my shoulder and collarbone.
“You look so fucking gorgeous tonight,” he murmurs into my ear. “I can’t wait to get you home and get you naked.” His hand roams down my side and lands on my thigh, which is visible from my dress riding up, but hidden behind the table.
We spend the next several minutes making out like horny teenagers, until Lexi and Georgia return with another round of double shots.
Ryan warns us that we’ll be cleaning up our own throw-up when we’re upchucking our dinner into the toilet later, but still takes his shot.
“I feel good,” I tell Lexi, taking the last sip of my lemon drop. “I don’t want any more to drink.”
“Well, someone has to drink it.” She pouts.
Ryan lifts the shot and downs the liquid then goes back to kissing me. His tongue swipes past my parted lips, darting into my mouth. I suck on his tongue, tasting the sweetness of the alcohol.
“Come and dance with us,” Lexi shouts, not caring that we’re practically dry humping in the booth. “Please,” she insists.
“We’re watching the drinks,” Ryan murmurs against my lips.
“There are no more drinks,” she huffs, which makes Ryan release my mouth and chuckle.