“Let’s get ye inside,mo chroí.”
Paddy hustles us through the busy main bar with strippers hanging from poles and giving lap dances on the main floor and into a smaller, more intimate,quieterspace.
“This is the VIP room,” Low whispers into my ear.
With a meaningful glare, she pokes Paddy. He sighs like the most put upon man in the world, pulling an envelope out of his jacket pocket. Low squeals excitedly, pulling his head down to make out with him. I stand beside them, awkward as Paddy eagerly clutches Lauren to him, devouring her mouth.
Finally, he lifts his head, stroking his thumb over Lauren’s lower lip. For some reason, it’s a more intimate gesture than all their kissing.
“Now go away,” Lauren tells him bossily. “This is a girl's night. You’re not invited.”
I’m surprised at how she’s talking to him, but Paddy only winks at me, striding off to a “Staff Only” door and disappearing.
Low steers me to a table across the room when he's out of sight. It’s right in front of the stage where a stripper is wearing nothing more than heels, a thong, and her dignity, shaking her shit around a pole.
The table is already occupied by a beautiful woman with tanned skin, thick brown hair, and vibrantly blue eyes.
“Just in time,” the woman drawls as I recognize her as one of Low’s bridesmaids. “Fi’s up next.”
Lauren and I drop into the other seats at the table, and a waitress magically appears with a whole bottle of top-shelf whiskey and three tumblers. I thought service would be good if I were here with Low, but this is next level.
“Okay. I could get used to this kind of treatment,” I murmur, pulling out my purse. The blue-eyed bridesmaid waves her hand dismissively.
“Get used to not paying. I ordered this stuff specially for us.”
Low winks as I blink in surprise. “Mellie’s in charge of ordering for the club.”
Turning her attention back to the stage, she tears Paddy’s envelope, ones and fives sliding out. Alotof ones and fives.
“Get ready to spend big on the blonde up next.” Low grins at me, and Mellie also pulls out a wad of ones and fives, dropping them on the table.
“Let’s make it rain over her,” she suggests excitedly. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”
Giggling, Mellie pours out three shots. Lauren grabs one, pushing the other toward me as Mellie lifts hers high.
“To a man-free girl’s night!”
My eyebrows raise at the strange toast as Lauren cheers. “Finally!”
Placing the shot glass against my lips, I tip my head back, wincing as the whiskey burns its way down my throat. Hoo boy! As I set the glass back on the table, the stripper on stage climbs down, moving around the room, collecting her tips.
One of the men at a table near ours says something as she giggles, flipping her hair over her shoulder. A waitress appears holding a lockbox, which the stripper places her tips into. The guy stands, and the stripper laughs and beckons him over to what looks like a small private room behind the tables.
“Lap dances in here are private. Otherwise, they distract from the stripper on stage,” Mellie explains distractedly, shoving two fingers into her mouth and whistling piercingly at the stage.
A new stripper struts out, looking like a girl next door turned into a wet dream. She has honey-blonde hair tinted with lighter shades, blue eyes, and the plumpest, pinkest lips imaginable.
She’s slender but stacked like all get out, and unlike the last stripper, she’s not topless. She might as well be because her lacy lingerie brassiere is completely see-through, and her panties are barely there, but she’s still “fully clothed.”
My eyes are glued to her as she sways her hips in time with the music. I wish I had that kind of confidence. As we watch, she does some wicked impressive moves on the pole and a little floor show, contorting herself and flaunting some awesome abs muscle control.
The floor show is happening right in front of our table. Mellie and Low climb onto their chairs to make it rain dollar bills over her. I thought they were kidding about that. A giggle bursts out of me as they start wolf-whistling.
“Yeah, shake it, Fi!” Mellie yells, whistling again as she showers the woman with dollar bills.
“Get it, girl!” Low screams, wobbling, righting herself, sweeping cash from the pile in her hand onto the woman writhing on the stage.
Low’s eyes find mine, and she jerks her head at the stage. Oh. Right.I’msupposed to get up there too. What the hell. I pound back another shot of whiskey and snatch up a pile of money from the table. Climbing onto my chair, I start whistling and making it rain money on her too.