Page 12 of Bound by Desire
“And …?”Iask.
She sighs heavily and looks me dead in the eye. “He’s a good boy.” Her tone is so down, a laugh escapesmylips.
“Like ’em bad, do ya?” Itease.
“Who doesn’t?” Breelyn pipes in. “Tattoos, muscles … hell, maybe even rides a Harley. What’s nottolike?”
“It’s just … I don’t feel the spark. I like him, but not in the throw-me-against-the-wall-and-fuck-me way. I want that. Someone who can’t get enough of me and who I can’t get enough of. Someone who, when I walk into a room, his eyes are onlyonme.”
While I wish her luck in this, it doesn’t exist. Some may call me cynical. I don’t give a fuck. All those pipe dreams of ever finding a man to do that for me went out the window a long damn time ago. There is no fairy-tale happily ever after shit. It’s allmadeup.
“Yeah.” Breelyn sighs dramatically while Avery looks to the dancefloor.
“Nah, who needs all that? Find you a hottie to go home with tonight and have fun. You only get one life. Live it up and don’t try to push things.” My reasoning sucks, but I’ve never said I’m anexpert.
“Yeah,” Breelyn responds as the waitress comes by and drops off the drinks. We toss them back as a familiar song comes over the stereo system. Breelyn’s eyes light up. “Come on!” She jumps up so fast there’s a slight sway to her step, but she recoversquickly.
“Hellyes!”
We all make our way to the dance floor, moving to the music, letting it carry us away. Bodies press into us, but we remain next to each other, dancing ourassesoff.
Letting loose isn’t something I normally do, because doing that means you aren’t in control of your surroundings. I like to know what’s going on and who’s where. But dancing is an outlet for me. Some may say that my outlet is fighting and beating people up. It’s not. That’s my job. Not the beating people up part, but it seems to come along with the territory. It doesn’t make me feel free,though.
Dancing, getting lost in the music, the heat surrounding me,thatdoes.
I make the most of each move and get lost in letting the rhythm take me away. By the time we’re done, sweat glistens off my body and my breaths aredifficult.
Falling back into my chair, I suck in the much-neededcoolair.
“Damn, that was fun,” Avery says, pulling up the chair next to me. “Did you see that guy trying to dancewithyou?”
I look toward the dance floor and spot him instantly. Since I kept brushing him off, I hope he gotthehint.
“Notmytype.”
“What is your type?” Avery challenges, lifting her hand to thewaitress.
“Fuck if I know anymore.” I thought what Lance and I had was something special. He comes to the fights, which is where we met. He was persistent, and my dumbass gave in. We were together five months, and the fuckercheated.
“You needaman.”
“I need my vibrator. Men are a pain in the ass that I don’t want todealwith.”
Breelyn stumbles up to the table with a wide smile, Skyler right behind her. “Let’s gotoX!”
X is a strip club here in Sumner, owned by the Ravage MC and run by Princess, an ol’ lady in the club. You’d have to live under a rock ten feet underground to not know this information in this town. It’s also hot and a whole lotoffun.
“Hellyeah.”
We pile out of Bimbos’ and head to X. I’m happy the last thing I drank was a glass of water and not the shots Avery wanted since I’m driving. If I couldn’t, I wouldn’t get behind awheel.
We make our way up to the front door of the strip club where a large man sits. As soon as he sees us, his arm goes out, ushering us through. One good thing is they never make women pay the cover. They know, as well as we do, the men will all be looking, and not just at the women on thestage.
Breelyn makes her way through the crowd, everyone filing behind her, as we find a table in the front. More like, there were two men sitting there, they saw us, and got up quickly, then two more chairs mysteriously showed up so we each could sit. Funny how thatworks.
The woman on the stage sways her hips seductively to the music, like she’s been doing this for years. Her long, dark hair has an edgy feel by the way she flips it, bringing on the seductive look. The black leather puts up a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe, adding to the men around her going crazy. She owns the stage. It’s admirable, the fact she can get up there, dance in front of all these men, and have such confidence in doing it. I’m not sure I could. It takes a special kind of confidence to pullthatoff.
Pulling out dollar bills and passing them to the dancers, we make sure each of the girls are tipped well as we laugh, drink, and enjoy ourselves, picking up some moves along the way. We’re standing up by the stage, dancing, interacting with the woman on stage who is eating it up because the guys are all over it and money is pouring on thestage.
