Authors: HJ Bellus
My Cons pound on the cement with each step; I curl and uncurl my fists down by my side, and then throw open the door to the restaurant.
“Oh shit,” are the last two words I hear Rhett yell before my fist collides with the asshole’s jaw. He didn’t see the first one coming, but I made sure he saw and felt the reign of terror with each blow of my fist and cracking of his face.
I lose track of how many times I pop the fucker in the face. Rhett pulls me off him and has us out of there before the sirens fill the air.
“
W
hat did
he say to you?” Chloe asks again.
“Basically, that I was desperate.” I rearrange the ice pack on my knee. Thankfully, I was able to talk the girls out of rushing me to the ER over a flesh wound. I’ve fallen off my fair share of horses while growing up to know pain.
“So he was a dick to you?” Darby asks.
“Enough.”
They’ve been at it for the last thirty minutes since we got home and cleaned up.
Darby plants her hands on her hips and tilts her head. “From my standpoint, when you landed in his arms, he stared down at you like he was going to devour you and then he beat the shit out of the guy who knocked you down.”
I don’t admit to either of them that I thought his stare felt the same way and made me way more excited than it should have. Hell, I hadn’t even noticed the throbbing pain while in his arms. I sure got a good look at his gorgeous cock the other day, but it’s nothing compared to his bright blue eyes, strong jawline, and crisp tan.
“He’s an asshole and no way interested in me.” I try to brush off their concern and feel a slight twinge when I do.
“You’re so damn stubborn sometimes, Ava. It drives me fucking nuts.” Darby plops down on the bed next to me.
“I must get it from the good ol’ Senator from Tennessee.”
“You must.” She lays down next to me. “But that’s the only thing you get from your asshole father.”
“Agreed.”
“So, I’m pretty sure Chloe has no idea about tonight. I’ve warned the other bitches to keep their traps shut.”
“I’m pretty sure she’s in the dark and also going to chop both of our tits off when she finds out.”
“My dad’s a plastic surgeon, he can just sew them back on.”
I can’t help the fit of giggles that escape me with her comment. Her words come out so calm and cool, you’d think she’s had her titties chopped off several times in the past and her dad sewed them right back on.
“She’ll have fun, but I’m sure tomorrow morning will be feeling like shit.”
“Ava, your knee feeling good enough to go?”
“Of course.” I turn to face her. “But will you do my hair, Darby?”
I use my best puppy dog eyes and bat my eyelashes at her. Hair is Darby’s passion, but her parents are similar to mine and have their own expectations of what Darby should do or not do. Unlike me, Darby is very vocal to her parents and tells them where they can stick it and just exactly how hard they can stick it.
“So, what’s the plan tonight?” Chloe enters the room and tosses her phone on the bed.
“Oh, little miss, are you done talking dirty to the future hubs?” Darby asks, making room for Chloe on the bed.
“Yeah, but wasn’t too dirty. He was between meetings.” Her voice is sad.
“Something up?” I ask.
“I just miss him and wish this whole wedding bullshit was over.”
“Settle your tits.” Darby sits up in the bed. “Your mom is virtually taking care of everything and we just have the summer to tan and relax here.”
“You mean Ava and me?”
Darby shakes her head from side to side with a growing mischievous smile beginning to spread across her face.
“I thought you were leaving with the rest of the clan,” Chloe says.
“I was, but then figured one last summer with my bitches was exactly what the doctor ordered.”
Chloe flies into Darby’s arms and wraps her tight in a hug and then pulls away. “Wait, you knew this, Ava?”
I just shrug my shoulders and go back to Zane and the whole cluster fuck at the pizza joint earlier today.
“It won’t be the only surprise I have up my sleeve for you either, Chloe, so let’s go get made up to go bar hopping.”
“It better just be bar hopping tonight and nothing else,” she warns.
“Lighten the fuck up. It’s your bachelorette weekend for God’s sakes and I can guarantee you that your future Mister will enjoy the tits put in front of him at his party.”
“Oh fuck off.” Chloe pushes Darby off the bed. “Oh, and can I borrow your red whore dress?”
“Duh.”
The rest of the group joins us and before too long all the oxygen of the room is replaced with hairspray and perfume, leaving it resembling a whorehouse instead of a summer home. You’d think there would be room in this three story, fully furnished house, but nope we all cram into my bathroom and get our hot babe on.
“Seriously, Ava?”
I look up to Chloe with her hands on my hips and I wonder what in the hell is wrong.
“Cowboy boots? You’re not in Tennessee anymore.”
“I like them.”
The rest of the girls join in on harassing me about my short skirt, tank top, and cowboy boots. They do their best to get me in some slutty heels, but lose and I so win.
Chloe and Darby, on the other hand, slut it up mega hard. It’s not odd for Darby to be sporting a fuck me dress and heels with her killer body. She’s not fit and not super thin and has all the right curves. Mother Nature was in her favor. Chloe typically dresses a bit conservative, but tonight she has no choice as the girls shake her into a tiny red dress and pull her hair up high on her head.
“Selfie, bitches.” Darby rounds all of us around the bathroom mirror. We hoist our girls in unison.
“To Chloe,” we all sing in unison.
Three honks break up the selfie session and we all rush down to the long front sidewalk to the bright yellow mini-van taxi.
“Ava, come here.” Darby grabs my elbow, pulling me back.
“Look at this.” She opens her purse and a pool of bills spills over, ranging from ten dollars to one hundred dollars.
“Jesus fuck, Darby, you must be wanting to be bathed in baby batter tonight.”
“Chloe is going to shit herself. We need to get her real liquored up before we hit the strip club.”
“You aren’t kidding.” I’m the last to climb in the taxi and end up riding bitch.
The clatter and screams are deafening along with a very strong smell of Fireball.
“Here, Ava.” Darby hands me a flask with “Co-Maid of Honor” bedazzled on it with pink and baby blue stones.
“To Chloe and her lifetime of fucking the same guy night after night. Sucking the same dick and tasting the…”
“Enough,” the whole gang hollers in unison.
The shot of Fireball from my honorary flask goes down smoothly, relaxing all of my worries and tensions. It’s not until this moment that I realize how stressed I’ve been. My parents wanting me to hook up with a powerful son of the Tennessee house to this wedding and what I really want.
Streetlights whiz past my view and the chatter streaming from the back of the mini-van provide the perfect opportunity to take a few toasts to myself. The first one for graduating with a Journalism Degree and not succumbing to my parents’ dreams and the second, well who the fuck cares. The liquid goes down smooth and quite tasty. A third shot goes down with a toast to Ava, my soul, and what I dream of.
The taxi ride comes to an abrupt stop in front of a steady stream of blinking lights. An entire street is lit up with the same hue of flashing lights. They’re hypnotizing and when I study them, I become dizzy and feel my stomach somersault even though I’m standing on a solid sidewalk.
Darby tossed her credit card into the taxi and gave him strict orders to wait and when to expect us. She’s always been the planner and pit bitch of us all. When going out with Darby, you don’t ask questions and just drink when she tells you to. In the entire four years, she’s hauled our drunken asses home from downtown to our dorms and later on, our apartment.
Chloe’s face has her hesitation and question plastered all over her features. It’s quite cute really. She’s been this way since our freshman year until she fell head over heels for her lover.
“C’mon, I’m here with you.” Our arms entangle into each other.
“You’re already drunk, Ava.” Chloe’s high heels click in unison on the pavement with the heels of my boots.
“Nope, I’m on the feel good section of my drunk-o-meter.”
“We’re getting old, Ava, one shot and we’re toast.”
I remain silent listening to Darby harass the ongoers passing us on the street. She indulges all their catcalls and honks, responding to some with her middle finger and others with a slap to her ass.
“I took like four shots on the way here.”
“Ava, you lush.” Chloe slaps my arm.
“You know me.” I shrug.
“Everything okay?”
Chloe worries too much for her own good, so I decide to omit part of the truth. “Just a bit concerned about finding a job, you know?”
No, she doesn’t know. I love my Chloe Bug to death, but she’s marrying into the rich, prominent blood and doesn’t have to worry about putting her college degree to use. Hell, she majored in Political Science only to help her future spouse out if he ever runs for Congress. It’s a game I’ve been drowned in and I’m sick of it.
“Yeah, it’s crazy to think we are no longer college party animals and now have to really go out in the real world.”
“Yeah.” I roll my eyes in the darkness of the night, hoping none of the neon lights catch the reflection.
“Pit stop number one, bitches.” Darby races in front of us and swings open the door to bar number one, paying the cover charges for our gang.
The inside of the club is cloaked in thumping music, the scent of sweat, and the abundance of liquor. Darby races to our reserved table and waves for the first round of shots. It goes down as easy as the first sip of Fireball and then I’m on the dance floor.
My cowboy boots may stick out in the crowd, but they make love to the dance floor to any type of music. I roam from side to side of the large wooden floor, trying not to get entangled by any men. My horny bunch of friends have attracted most of them.
Janet Jackson’s hypnotic voice booms through the speakers, encouraging my hips to sway with the beat of the song and the only thing I can focus on are those damn blue eyes that seem to keep haunting me. Zane. The man proved to be a raging dick today and then turned around and was the hero of the day.
My eyes lazily drift shut as my hips sway to the beat and Zane’s arms wrap around my middle. My breasts collide into his hard chest and his breath tickles the tender skin behind my ear. His large palm roams up the middle of my back until it reaches the back of my neck and he grips tight. Each of his fingers dig into my skin until I squirm under his touch and moan out loud. Then it’s my hair he takes in his hand and winds between his fingers, pulling it until it feels like perfection and I don’t know if I want to moan or rip his clothes from his god-like body.
“Ava.”
His voice pulls me from his hypnotic trance.
“Ava.”
This time I know it’s not his voice. My eyes spring open in shock and I come face to face with the group of girls. And I realize it’s not Janet’s voice singing anymore and a hip-hop voice booming over the speakers and a whole new crowd on the dance floor.
“Ready to go?” Chloe asks.
I can only manage to nod my head and follow the clan out the door and into the crisp night air. My purse lays wide open in the front seat of the taxi. I snag the bottle of water from it and begin to chug. The girls in the back toast to the night, their crotches, and everything else between.
Mindlessly, I run my hand over my kneecap and wonder what in the hell just happened to me. Then I run my sweaty palm over my forehead. Yep, it’s my knee that I busted open earlier today and not my head.
Then why in the hell did I just nearly get off on the dance floor with Zane? I’ve seen the guy twice. Once with his dick out and the other with him being the dick.
Bar after bar we hop around to and I take it easy on the alcohol and become the designated purse and drink watcher. The music entertains me as do the drunken bodies on the dance floor. It only feels like minutes pass, but when I check my phone it’s nearly midnight.
“Okay, bitches, one more stop before closing time.” Darby winks at me and I know what’s coming up next.
I’m thankful I’ve been chugging the h2o and not the devil’s juice. Jesus, at the rate I was going, I’d be up on the stage dancing with the fucking male strippers, trying to hump one of their legs.
The taxi ride is only a short few blocks away and I indulge in the shots with the girls to try to wipe away the sleep threatening to attack my eyes. When Darby declares bottoms up, bitches, I have no choice but to join in. It’s a college rule, whoever doesn’t finish has to pick up the tab next time. My parents aren’t as generous with their money since my dad’s accounts are constantly monitored and inspected at every level. His end goal is the White House.
“What is this place?” Chloe slurs out.
“The last stop,” the girls announce.
Chloe may be past her legal limit, but I watch the light bulbs slowly turn on and her face go pale as the girls shove her past me. I let the door shut behind me and pay the cover charge with the money Darby slipped me. As soon as I step foot in the place, I really wish I’d kept drinking and having wet dreams over the asshole, Zane. I’m way too fucking sober for a place like this.
With my luck, it will be senior citizen night and only male strippers over ninety. The mere thought causes me to gag and also reminds my bladder it needs to be relieved.
“Hey, Darby.” I catch her attention and do my best sign language, letting her know I’m heading to the bathroom. However, I’m pretty sure I just told an elf to fuck off in real sign language.
The club is beyond packed with standing room only. Darby secured a table at the front all decorated up with bachelorette shit from cock straws, sashes, and crowns. Even if it’s senior citizen night, the old fuckers won’t be able to miss us.
I laugh out loud at my own joke and am thankful when I twirl around in the dark hall that no one is around to witness it. My boots slide gracefully on the slick vinyl and I do it again letting out a little squeal of delight.
You’re only young once, right?
A few moves come out that should never come out of a white girl in boots which causes me to laugh even harder.
It may be a strip club, but the environment is electric and the setting could cause any mood to heighten and the fucking strippers haven’t even graced the stage. I force out one more epic move. The ball of my boot spins around on the floor and then I break out into the running man, cackling even louder. A slice of common sense hits me and I wonder if I’ve lost my last marble.