The Final Straw
Prologue
Barbi
It’s girl’s night out and I plan to leave with the hottest guy in the club tonight.
Southbeach is known for drawing a large crowd, having two bars, one on each side of the two-room building; one for country line dancing and the other playing all the popular dance tracks. If I were a guy, it would be the equivalent of a wet dream come true, an all-you-can-eat pussy buffet.
I needed a wing woman though, and that’s where my kinda best friend comes in. Olivia’s a prude and didn’t want to come out tonight, but I forced her to. She’d rather stay at home watching sappy movies on television and printing the photographs she takes. Olivia is gullible; she really thinks she can become rich doing fucking wedding and birthday pictures.
We’ve been friends since high school, not because I like her, though. No, I can’t stand the fucking bitch. She gets everything she wants and never has to work for it. The only admirable trait about her is she fucking does everything I say without question, even letting me take every boy and man she’s had her eye on. Perfect little princesses like her need to be taught a lesson, and it’s that they can’t always have everything. You’d think she’d catch on that I’m using her, but she’s too desperate for friendship.
The minute we step into the club, I can feel every man’s eyes on my body, lusting after me. And why wouldn’t they? I look amazing tonight. A tight red leather mini-skirt that barely covers my ass, a snug cami top that has my DDD boobs spilling out over the top.
Shit, Daddy paid good money for them, so why not show them off, especially since I had to beg to get them. The little sob story about how I was being picked on really sealed the deal. He just didn’t know that on the day of the appointment, I requested way larger than the small C cup we agreed upon.
But even he should know that what I want, I get. Fuck what anyone says.
I made sure Olivia dressed down in jeans and a T-shirt. There was no way I was letting this bitch outshine me; not that she could.
“Get us some drinks and I’ll grab a table,” I tell her, scanning the bar for the perfect place to perch and wait for all the shiny toys to make their way over to me.
There’s a table full of hot-as-sin men to the left, and wouldn’t you know it, three tables over is an empty one, directly in their line of sight.
I make my way to it, giving my best sultry smile as I pass by them, adding a little extra sway in my hips. One guy, in particular, catches my attention, and he’s now become my target for the night. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to be the lucky one to take me home and fuck my brains out. If he’s good, maybe I’ll keep him around for a while.
Sitting down, I notice them all staring, eye fucking me as they talk back and forth, nodding their heads in my direction. Olivia passes by their table, two mixed drinks in hand. It’s about time. I’m already thinking about how I’m going to drive them crazy, sucking on the straw of my drink. Anything to draw their attention to my fire engine red lips, sending visions of how they would look wrapped around their cocks.
“Here you go, one Sex on the Beach.” Olivia giggles, handing the glass to me.
What a fucking child.
She can’t even handle alcohol with fun names. Another reason I can’t stand her; she’s fucking immature.
“See that table over there?” I ask her, nodding toward it.
“The one with six guys at it?”
“Yeah, that one. See the guy on the right? The tall one with hair styled like Robin Thicke, and the gorgeous meticulously groomed beard.”
“He’s hot, Barbi,” she says with a smile.
Wait, are her cheeks turning pink?
Oh no, bitch, he’s mine. Don’t get any ideas.
“Well, if everything goes according to plan, he’ll be taking me home tonight.”
I’m confident it will, especially when I see him and one of his friends stand and head our way. Wiggling in my seat, I sit up straight, my skirt inching higher with each move as I push my large breasts out even further. Picking up my glass, I suck on the straw, fluttering my lashes at them.
The two men stop right in front of us, and I know I’ve got him under my spell.
“Hello, ladies. I’m Van and this is my friend, Cal. We saw you two sitting alone and wanted to know if you’d like some company?” His deep tone slides over my skin like silk, leaving goosebumps in its path. The dude would be perfect for narrating a fucking romance book.
“I’m Barbi and this”—I nod my head to the side—“is my best friend in the entire world, Olivia.” God, I want to gag.
“Hello, Olivia, would you like to dance?” Van extends his hand out and Olivia looks at me with a huge smile as she places hers in it and he leads her to the dance floor.
Wait! What the fuck?
Why the hell would he ask her to dance? I’m clearly the better looking one. He’s obviously trying to make me jealous. Well played, Van, but I’m the one to play games, not the other way around.
“Hey there, gorgeous. Now that we’re alone, tell me about yourself. When my buddy and I saw you two, I thought we’d be competing, but as luck would have it, he liked your friend.”
His voice grates on my nerves as I fume in my seat, watching Van and Olivia on the dance floor. The man I wanted has his arms wrapped around that traitorous bitch I brought here tonight.
It’s fucking girl code, for god’s sake. She knows I laid claim to him; I told her. But let’s be clear, even if she had staked her claim, I still would have pursued him.
Yeah, I know I’m a one-sided bitch.
How is it that once again the dowdy little bitch gets everything she wants? Takes from other people, not even thinking about their feelings. She knew he was my target for the night; she should have told him no and directed him my way.
It’s okay. Once he talks to her for a few minutes, he will see what a fucking mistake he made and come crawling back to me.
“Hellooo, Earth to Barbi!” Cal calls, waving his hands in front of my face, pissing me off even more.
“What!?” I narrow my eyes at him.
“You know what, forget it. Van was right, you are a bitch. I’m out of here.”
He turns and heads back to their table, which now has a group of women sitting with his remaining friends. He steps up beside one who is alone and places his hand on her shoulder, leaning in, saying something to her that has them all tossing their heads back in laughter.
Idiots.
For the next thirty minutes, I sit there and stew, growing angrier by the second as I watch Olivia and Van dance to song after song, before finally sitting down at an empty table, hand in hand, talking.
“Did you want something else to drink?” A waitress steps up to my table and smiles.
“Yeah, three shots of tequila, and hurry,” I snap.
“Sure thing. I’ll be right back.” She turns and practically skips off, that damn smile still on her face. Fuck, I want to punch her!
Olivia and Van stand up and head my way. He breaks away from her, stopping at his table of friends, and she keeps heading in my direction.
See, it took a bit, but he saw the light and kicked her ass to the curb. I knew I was right, he was just trying to make me jealous. When I glance back at his table, I catch him looking our way, smiling as he speaks to his friends.
“Hey, Barbi. I’m gonna go. Do you have a ride home? I know you were planning to hook up with someone tonight, anyway.”
Why is she smiling? And why is she saying someone? She knew I wanted Van!
“Did he already dump you? I’m sorry for him fucking with you ton—” I’m cut off when the man in question steps up to the table.
“Ready to go, babe? I gave my keys to Cal. He’s going to drive my car back to our place.” He places his arm around her shoulder and then kisses her forehead.
Am I in the twilight zone? He’s going home with her and not me? Am I on that show Punked? Because something has to be seriously wrong when she is chosen over me.
“Yeah, I was just making sure Barbi was okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.” Before I can answer, the two of them are walking away, his arm around her waist, holding her tight.
That fucking bitch.
Mark my words, I'm going to make her pay for what she did tonight. She knew he was who I wanted and in true Olivia fashion, she took what she wanted. But this time was the last straw. My mind starts formulating a plan.