Page 6 of The Playboy

“I am going to marry her, you dipshit.”

“And I’m happy for you, but don’t expect that for me.” I nodded toward the club now that the rest of the guys had exited the bus. “I don’t know about any of you, but I need a shot.”

Their agreement was loud and simultaneous, like they were still on the bus, fighting for airtime over the music, and they followed me inside the club. I’d been to several others on the island. This was my favorite.

The two-story structure had a back wall made entirely of glass, so you could see the beach and ocean from anywhere you stood inside. Within the interior, there were stages set up at different levels—some occupied with dancers the club employed, some with patrons. And then there were the birdcages that hung from the ceiling, where women covered only in feathers danced on perches.

I liked the vibe.

The nakedness.

The smell of sex in the air.

The way that, no matter where I looked, there were women in my view, whether they were on a stage or dancing on the floor or on a perch or serving me alcohol—like the waitresses were doing now.

I’d reserved a private section in the VIP area, giving us several couches to sit on, a coffee table that had full bottle service—vodka, tequila, scotch, and all the mixers and garnishes my buddies would need.

We’d been assigned two waitresses, and they were hard at work, making us drinks.

I waited until everyone had one before I ordered, “Tequila shots,” from the server closest to me. “One for each of us.”

She began to fill the small glasses, handing them out.

Once she was done, I raised mine in the air. “Who wants to do the honors?” I asked the group. Although I wasn’t afraid to make the toast—Jenner was marrying into my family after all—I assumed a Dalton would want to do it.

“I’ve got this,” Dominick said, a wide, cheerful smile on the oldest brother’s face. “Jenner, Jenner, Jenner,” he started.

My ears were focused on Dominick’s voice, but something made me glance to my side. It was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that guided my gaze across the banister that overlooked the dance floor below. But the feeling didn’t take me all the way down to where the general population was grinding on each other. It took me across to a stage that was mid-level, large enough for one dancer, and on top of it was a woman.

Not just any woman.

Or dancer.

This was the most gorgeous woman I’d ever seen in my life.

The sexy, tight black dress wasn’t like the costumes the club required their employees to wear, so I knew she was a patron. Her hair was as dark as midnight, and it fell in waves down her bare back, almost reaching her waist, where her hips rounded toward a perfect, heart-shaped ass. As she moved to the beat, I took in the rest of her body. The arch of her neck, the softness of her collarbone. Tits that were the most sensual size. A figure that blended just right with curves and a narrow waist, a flat navel, thighs that had just the right amount of thickness, and calves like a runner.

Each scan of her body revealed something new, something achingly beautiful, something that taunted me from all the way over here.

But it wasn’t that ass that was making my dick hard or her tits that I wanted to bury my lips in; it was her face I couldn’t get enough of. She had eyes that were icy blue, a color so unique they reminded me of a husky’s stare, and they were so intense I could see them all the way over here. Lips that were plump, a tiny and sloped nose, skin that was creamy and sun-kissed. Features that seemded simple as I traced them with my eyes, but the combination was fucking breathtaking.

Who is this woman?

And how quickly can I get to that stage?

As the music sped up, so did her moves.

Her hips.

Her arms as they lifted over her head, swinging as though she were trying to shimmy through the tightest opening.

As she gyrated the air, my imagination took over. It filled in the spots that were covered by her dress, like I was getting the chance to peek underneath the fabric. In my head, I could see the hardness and pink hue of her nipples, the sweat that dripped between her tits, and the delicateness of her pussy.

But that wasn’t enough.

Neither was just looking at her.

I needed to be close.

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