Page 12 of The Shadows We Keep

This outfit is so far out of my comfort zone. I’ll have to be wasted before I can relax and let loose tonight. And that’s the whole point of us going out.

We both take one last swig from the bottle before I pop it back into the freezer. Down the hall, we stop to check our makeup one last time in the mirror. You’d think with an outfit like this, I’d choose something natural. But my eyes are smokey, my liner thick, and my lips bold. She said the club was erotic; I should fit right in. Swinging my leather jacket over my shoulders and shoving my ID and credit card into my bra, I’m ready to go.

The line to get in is down the block, but Stace doesn’t stop at the back. Interlacing our fingers, she pulls me past the pissed potential patrons. I tilt my head down, avoiding eye contact as she steps up to the giant man they’ve hired as a bouncer.

Still having to lean up, even though she’s wearing five-inch heels, she places a kiss on both his cheeks. “Robert.” She flirty smiles at him. “You working all night, or are you going to come in and find me before I leave with someone else?”

This fucking girl, I swear.

“You better fucking not, or you’ll regret it.” He smacks her ass and tilts his head toward the dark wooden door. They engraved a crest of some sort in the wood, the hollow parts flickering with gold paint. She looks over her shoulder and winks before we step through into the darkness.

The music is different, a combination of EDM and metal. It blares from the overhead speakers and mixes with the ones near the stage viewable when we exit a long hallway onto the main floor. A bar stretches across the entire left side of the building. Bottles of every kind of alcohol line the wall on three tiered shelves against a mirrored backsplash.

Small platform stages at different heights, some with poles or metal cages, litter the dance floor, professional dancers fill them, gyrating in thongs with fishnets and pasties, leaving very little to the imagination.

The dance floor takes up most of the space, but tall tables to our right give people a place to take a break and refresh. They’re all taken with people chatting and getting a drink. I look up and find a grated catwalk above. It’s thin but offshoots to different areas where the floors are clear. I stop in my tracks. Dark booths paired with interesting leather-coated benches…

Oh my god, is that a Saint Andrew’s Cross?

Metal catches and reflects the flashing lights from the floor below, and that only confirms my suspicion.

Tugging on Stace’s hand, I pull her ear to my mouth. “You said erotic, not sex club.”

She shrugs her shoulders…shrugs.

This bitch.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a prude by any measure of the word, but a heads-up would have been nice.

We stop in front of the bar and order four shots of vodka rimmed with sugar and garnished with lemon. Better to keep on track with what we’ve already had. After a few minutes, they all hit me, and I’m ready to lose my jacket and hit the dance floor. I scan the way we came in. I didn’t notice a coat check.

I peel off the leather and flag down the bartender who made us our shots. I slide a twenty across the bar on top of my jacket. “Hold this for me.” I yell over the music.

He looks me over, eyeing the lace of my bustier and no doubt the ink across my chest, and winks. I smile back at him and turn to find Stace already on the floor.

“I can’t believe you brought me here,” I yell in her ear as our bodies bounce and shake to the hard music.

“It’s just a dance club. You can’t get upstairs without a membership or an invitation from a member. The glass floor is just for ambiance and show. Gives the exhibitionist exactly what they need.” Her Cheshire grin tells me she’s got a plan up her sleeve and if she doesn’t achieve it tonight, we’ll be back here next week.

Stace grabs my hips, grinding against me, arms around my shoulders. Her height, plus her boots, has her towering above me. As I flip my hair out of my face, I catch her eyeing a couple of guys across the floor sipping on their drinks leaning against a table.

She looks back down at me, left eyebrow raised and a smirk asking for permission. I wasn’t really looking to go home with anyone tonight, but it has been a while and what’s a one-night stand on a girl’s night out?

I shrug and a genuine smile crosses her face.

Poor bouncer.

If he really wanted to go home with her, he should’ve known better than to let her loose in here.

Her hands slide seductively down my waist as she turns me around to face the guys who haven’t taken their eyes off us. She’s got her prowling strut on as I’m pulled behind her. It’s not like we need to hurry. They’re obviously interested.

As we near the tall, round table, I take them in. They’re dark club, five drinks in kind of hot, but not exactly my type. The guy on the right is tall, probably six three. His short cropped blond hair, big blue eyes, and tan skin, screams boy next door. His clean-shaven baby face doesn’t help, and honestly makes me wonder if he’s even legal.

No, thank you!

Lucky for me, he’s already got an arm wrapped around Stacey’s waist and a hand splayed across her ass. He’s bold, I give him that.

His friend reaches out for my hand and pulls me in closer so he can talk directly in my ear. “Hey gorgeous, I’m Ryan.” He pulls back, looking down into my eyes. Now, he’s a little more like it.

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