What.
One of the other guys grins and steps forward. “Yeah, bro. Dan here wanted to hook you up with a little champagne room, huh?”
His smile widens as all of the guys make catcalls and whooping sounds.
“Dan, that’s… I’m not really into—”
“Well I already paid man, so, c’mon!”
I frown.
“Bro, it’s my bachelor party, and I want you to go have fun!”
Fuck it.
It’s not that I want to, it’s that I don’t want to keep standing here having this discussion. And hell, if nothing else, I’m pretty sure the private room is private. I can tell the stripper to take a break and keep the money, and I can get some peace and quiet for ten minutes.
“Sure, man,” I smile thinly. “Sounds good.”
“Ay! Atta boy!” Dan crows. He nods at a purple neon lit doorway. “Through there, second door on the left!”
I take a drink as I walk away, ignoring the cheers from the bachelor party as I step through into a dark hallway that smells like cheap perfume. I find the door, and step into a world of blue neon and faux crystal. There’s a big—and I do mean big—guy waiting for me to tell me to keep my hands to my damn self and to take a seat and wait for my girl.
Great.
I sit, drinking my whiskey and wondering how soon I can get the fuck out of here, when the door opens.
…And my jaw tightens.
It’s her. Fuck, of course it’s her. Blonde hair, black mask, sky-blue lacy lingerie, and fuck-me stilettos. The door closes behind her, and when our eyes lock, I see her instantly stiffen. Actually, she flat out shivers, and I watch as her teeth rake nervously over her bottom lip.
Well, this is off to a great start.
“Listen,” I growl, leaning forward. “I’m good, really. My buddies paid for the room, so if you want to go take a break or… I don’t know, do whatever, that’s fine.”
She swallows, her chest rising and falling, and God help me, my eyes drop right to those fucking perfect tits before I drag my eyes back to hers. Fuck, she’s young—younger than I thought she was on stage. And with all due respect to women who take their clothes off for a living, and I do have some serious respect for them, this girl ain’t it. She just doesn’t have that look.
“I’m serious,” I mutter. “Honestly, go take a break. I’m just gonna sit here and—”
“I have to.”
Her voice is like silk and lace, but I frown.
“No, you really—”
“Yes, I do.”
She nods subtly up at a little glass bubble on the ceiling, and when I see it, my jaw tightens. It’s a security camera.
“But I don’t want the dance.”
“I’ll…” she frowns, looking down.
“What.”
“I’ll get in trouble if I don’t,” she says softly.
My scowl deepens.