Page 14 of Mid-Thirties Slightly Hot Mess Female Seeking Billionaire

"Fine, you sound like my brothers, by the way." I wrinkle my nose at her as I down my first tequila shot quickly. The warm liquid goes down my throat smoothly and I cough as I feel the warmth hit my belly. "This is potent." I know this tequila is going to fuck me up, and I know I really shouldn’t drink the other one, but I down it just as quickly as I did the first. Within what feels like seconds, I can feel the alcohol going to my head. I don’t know if it’s the placebo effect or if the alcohol has really hit me that quickly, but I’m feeling giggly and like I’m on top of the world already. I shake my hair around and start dancing like I’m auditioning forSo You Think You Can Dance.

"So, how did you know that…" I pause as my brain freezes, and I forget what I was going to say.

"How did I what?" Isabel pays for the drinks and then looks back at me with a confused expression on her face.

"I don’t even know what I was going to say." I giggle. I look back over to the guy at the right, and he’s staring at only me now. I can see his eyes on my cleavage, and I congratulate myself on wearing a very tight, very plunging neckline. If there’s one thing that a lot of men like, it’s boobs, and granted, every man is not a boob man, but at least fifty percent are. And I’ve got some pretty nice ones, if I do say so myself.

"So, you girls looking to have fun tonight or what?" he asks and elbows his friend, who is no longer talking to one of the models. I look at his friend, a blond guy with dark brown eyes. He’s grinning and looking at me and Isabel, and I can tell he also doesn’t care which one of us he gets, which isn’t exactly a compliment. I want a guy that wants me. Not a guy who wants any woman who’s interested in taking him to bed.

"Sorry, guys. Tonight’s a girls’ night," Isabel says as she hooks her arm through mine again. "If you know what I mean."

"Holy shit." The ginger guy gawks at us, and I can see a million fantasies running through his head. "You girls aren’t lesbians, are you?"

"You would like that, wouldn’t you?" Isabel says, winking. I try not to roll my eyes. I don’t know why Isabel bothers with men like this, but she loves to be a tease. Maybe I need to learn to be a better one.

"I mean, are you guys open to experimenting with two hot, packing men?" The ginger guy nods toward his crotch. "The real thing is better than a strap-on, trust me."

"How do you know?" Isabel asks at the same time that I answer him.

"No, we’re not." I shake my head quickly. "Come on, Isabel." I turn to Isabel, and she winks at me as she picks up two more glasses. She hands me a tall margarita glass with bright red liquid and I take a sip. It’s delicious. I know I’m going to regret drinking so much alcohol tonight, but right now, I don’t care. Not after the day I had. "Come on, let’s go to the corner," I say. "Let’s dance."

"You should have been onDancing with the Stars." She takes a sip of her colorful cocktail and we head away from the bar. "You love to dance, you and Ella both. I’m just, like, what is going on with you two dancing queens? You know I don’t have rhythm." She moves her hips back and forth as we make our way through the crowds of people, and I can’t help but giggle at Isabel’s self-critical comment. It’s true, she doesn’t have the best rhythm, but if I’m honest, I’m not the most rhythmically inclined, either, but that doesn’t stop either of us from letting loose on a dance floor.

"You kind of have to be a star to be onDancing with the Stars," I remind her as we make our way to the corner of the room. There’s a makeshift dance floor where three other girls are dancing, and we stop and start dancing next to them.

"Hey,chicas," a girl with long, dark hair says with a wide, friendly smile. She’s wearing a crop top that shows off incredible abs and underboob, and I’m impressed by the fact that she’s dancing and not exposing any private parts. Her black skirt ends right under her ass, and I know even if I could carry off such a look, I wouldn’t be able to wear such attire. I don’t have the confidence, and I’d be scared that my ass cheeks and tits would be hanging out. Though, I can see half the men surrounding the dance floor are hoping for the same thing to happen. Their eyes are watching her every move. And she seems to love it.

"This is fun," Isabel says as she sips her drink and nods at the girl. I’m surprised she’s drinking a cocktail, not wine, because she loves white wine. Especially Pinot Grigio. If she could marry a winemaker whose sole focus was Pinot Grigio, she would be a very happy woman. "I just love going out on a weeknight," she says, holding up her glass. "Cheers." I clink my glass against hers and then take another sip of the drink. I’m feeling warm and happy, and I dance to the beat of the music as best as I can. I’m not sure who’s singing, but the song must be really popular because many people have joined us on the dance floor, jumping up and down, screaming and dancing. I would love it if I could write a song that would affect people that way.

"You’re right, this really is so much fun." I take another sip and look around to see who else is dancing. It’s mainly other women, but I can see a couple of guys standing on the edge of the makeshift dance floor like vultures, waiting for their opportunity to swoop in and grab someone they fancy. There are also some other men sitting in different booths watching us. It’s voyeuristic and weird, but it doesn’t stop me from enjoying myself and moving to the beat of the music. "I kind of feel like I’m a dancer on display. I wish there were tables that we could get on so we could dance and spin around," I shout over at Isabel.

"Oh, what? LikeCoyote Uglyor something?" Isabel responds, and I nod in affirmation. "Dance up and down tables and poles?"

"It’s not like I’m a great dancer, and it’s not like I’ve ever been a lap dancer or stripper or want to be, but I have taken pole dancing lessons, and while I’m not good, I really enjoy it," I admit. There’s a thrill to pole dancing lessons, and even though I’m the worst student in the class and can’t get up the pole, I do think I am getting better.

"We can always get on a table and dance around and wait for the bouncers to tell us to get down." Isabel looks around. "Maybe they will even lift us down with their big, strong arms."

"You would not get on a table with me, would you?" I ask, surprised.

"Yeah, of course I would. Do you not know me?"

"True. Yeah, you would be all about it."

"Come on, Sarah. Should we do it?" She points over at a booth table. "That can hold our weight."

"Oh, you’re serious." I take a huge gulp of my drink. "What if I fall ’cause I can’t see well?"

Isabel looks slightly nervous, at first, and then laughs. "You won’t fall, Sarah. What happened to my best friend that wants to be more adventurous?"

"What? Me? More adventurous? The nerdy librarian with the glasses?"

"Your glasses have gone. Your hair is down. Let’s find a table." She grabs my hand and guides me to the booth she pointed at earlier. There are two guys sitting there, and she takes a seat next to one of them as I stand there. I cannot believe that she’s doing this. "Hi, guys. Do you mind if my friend and I get on the table and do a quick dance?"

"Hell no," one of the guys says. He’s muscular and handsome, and I try not to lick my lips like he’s a meal waiting for me to taste him. He’s the sort of guy that I would go for in a heartbeat. He stares at me, and I can see him looking me up and down. He has dark hair and dark eyes. He’s built like a football player and is wearing a tight black shirt. "Hey, what’s your name?" he asks as he scoots closer to me. "Come here, beautiful." He motions me closer to him.

"It’s Sarah," I say, stumbling, feeling like a fool. "What’s yours?"

"My name is Mr. Right," he says, winking, and I giggle at his answer. Not because I think it’s funny, but because I don’t know how else to react.

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