Page 2 of Lucas

“Oh baby, I have a different kinda dance that you’re just gonna love. Now bend over and let me show ya.”

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Abby

It’s Sunday night,and I’m on the dance floor with my girls having a fabulous time when Lucas struts in. He’s the lead vocalist forThe Sinful Sevenand the guy I’ve been hooking up with now and again. I know for a fact he must run his fingers through his thick mane, since his hair is a tousled mess. With his clenched jaw and broody eyes, he storms past on a mission. I know he has his sights set on someone in the far corner. I so wish that someone was me. Pathetic, I know, but the man exudes a confidence that’s not only sexy but hot as hell. Although we’ve bumped uglies occasionally, it doesn’t give me first dibs. And, from what I heard, he never goes back for seconds. So, to have him warm my bed more than once is one helluva boost for this girl right here.

My eyes follow his every move as he swaggers to the corner of the dance floor, grabs someone’s hand, and strides into the Men’s room with her hand clutched in his. You don’t need to be a rocket scientist to figure out what the hell’s going on in there. What kind of girl fucks a guy in a public restroom? On second thought, when that guy is LucasPipesKnight, I guess you’d give your right hand to be that girl. Doesn’t matter where or when, if he has his sights set on you, grab it. It might be the first and last time he does. He’s a God in bed.

“Abby, close your mouth, babe. You’re drooling,” Beth laughs as she grabs my hands and spins me around. I grow dizzy, losing sight of the man I’ve been crushing on for so long now. She practically screams in my ear, “He’s way out of your league, babe. Check out the guy at three o’clock. He’s been checking you out since we got on the dance floor.”

Well, you don’t need to tell me twice, so I do. Hey, I’m only human. And although he’s no Lucas, he’s got game. He’s cute if you like that preppy look with a slicked back undercut hairstyle. I don’t give him a second glance since I love a guy with a thick head of hair. So much easier to grab onto when you want to hang on for the ride. Geez, listen to me. I sound like a slut. But in all fairness, I’ve only had a few men in my lifetime. Not as many as the girls dancing with me, but enough to know what turns me on and what doesn’t.

“Focus, Abby. Ever since Lucas walked in, your body’s moving but your mind’s a million miles away. Remember, we’re celebrating my promotion!” Right, how could I forget since she’s reminded me at least twenty times since we got here? I get it. She’s excited and I’m happy for her, but it gets old after a bit.

My heart speeds up as I watch Lucas, now leaving the club with a devious grin on his face and sexy bedroom eyes. Yep, pathetic is spot on. Apparently they both had fun. She’s stumbling out of the restroom with flushed cheeks, adjusting her tits, looking around as if nobody would notice. Idiot. And count: one, two, and three. Her girls go running over to get the deets on her piece of ass.

Why do I hang out in this meat market?

Beth’s promotion. How could I forget?

“I’m thirsty. Time for shots, bitches,” I scream so they can hear me over the loud music. They just about plow me over when they go rushing for the bar. Last person there buys drinks, it’s our rule. And it looks like that would be me. Good, now I get to order.

“Bartender, three blow jobs, please.” His lips curl as he nods his approval. Of course, the girls break down in giggles and I know I’ll regret this come tomorrow morning. Who the hell goes out on a Sunday night? This idiot, that’s who.

Once he places the shots in front of us, we link our hands behind our backs. “No hands, on the count of three. One. Two. Three!” I wrap my lips around the rim of the glass and tip my head back. In one swallow, the sweet cream and liquor floods my throat and my glass is back on the bar. Glancing over to my partners, I notice the struggle is real. Cheryl’s choking and Beth has her legs crossed, so she doesn’t pee her pants. Yeah, she’s laughing that damn hard. That will teach them. And because I’m feeling generous, I order us three more.

A few minutes later, she’s dragging my ass back out on the dance floor. Well, let me say after those two shots and three margaritas, my toes are numb. I hope to God I don’t fall flat on my ass because that’s going to hurt! Especially in these fuck-me pumps. Hey, what can I say, I’m not the sexiest woman out here, but I know how to shake what God gave me.

Bumping, grinding, and humping, and a crowd gathers around us. I can see the predatory look in the eyes of the men buzzing around us, hoping we stumble and fall. Not going to happen, buddy, so keep on moving. Unfortunately, one of them has the balls to grab Beth by her hips, and he starts rubbing all over her ass. Her face is priceless when she realizes he’s fully erect and humping her on the dance floor. Yeah, she’s drunk as a skunk and instead of rubbing on him too, she cracks up laughing. Yep, that’s my girl.

Cheryl puts him in his place and taps him on the shoulder. “Dude, she’s laughing because she doesn’t like dick.” Immediately, his hands fall by his side and Cheryl fills his space. Grinding against her ass. Works every damn time! I so wish I had the balls to fuck with them, but I don’t. Ball-less little old me.

At two a.m. I call an Uber while the cute bartender escorts us to the door. “Would any of you ladies like me to walk you out?” Aw, what a cutie pie. He’s concerned. Or is he happy because I tipped him very well?

“Thanks, but I got this.” I give him a wink since I’m tipsy and feeling flirty.

An hour later, my girls are all tucked in. For how long, I have no idea, but I leave a bottle of water and two white tablets on the side of each so when they wake in the morning they can grab them. I’m sure they’ll be grateful if they can open their eyes to find them. I don’t even bother washing my face, I just plop on my bed and use the comforter to wrap up in like a taco.

Not long after, I’m drooling all over my pillow while brown eyes gaze into mine.

It’s going to be a great night.

2

Lucas

“Yeah,I know better than to screw with you guys.” I’m on the phone with my bandmates. “I have two songs and I’m working on the third as we speak. They’re going to blow your mind. I’ll be there in an hour.”

“We can’t wait to hear ‘em, Lucas. So hurry up and get your pretty ass over here.”

“I would if you’d just let me finish, fucktard.”

“Sorry. Hanging up now.”

I breathe a sigh of relief as soon as the line goes dead. Not that I’m worried because I wrote some amazing lyrics for the songs, but I didn’t sleep a wink. I’ve been chugging Monsters all night long and I feel like I’m gonna crash and burn any second now. I’m in desperate need of a shower because I reek of sex. Which isn’t such a bad thing, but I can’t go to practice smelling like a man-whore.

Sometimes, I get my best ideas while I’m standing under the showerhead, and tonight is no exception. The guys and I create tons of amazing songs on the daily, but the best are the ones that come from real, honest heartfelt emotion. And I hate to sound like a cocky bastard, but I’ve never been dumped or hurt in my entire life. So I guess you could say I’ve never had my heart broken. Maybe that’s why I’ve been having such a hard time finding just the right lyrics. I’ve no problem with the angst of a great rock song, but I’m having trouble with ballads. And the guys insist we have a mixture of both. But after my epiphany last night, I’m thinking energy drinks are my muse.

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