3. Derek
I might have fucked up.
About five shots ago, I fucked up. Now, I think all of my fuck-ups are counteracting one another.
My first mistake was coming to Vegas. The second, sitting at the bar alone. The third, allowing the devilish blonde next to me to fill me up with liquor. And the fourth, the most crucial mistake, was listening to Jace Heart when he said we’d be going to a strip club.
Now, you’d think that we’d be at a regular club like Diamonds or Cherries Cherry–but no. We’re at Lovely fucking Larry’s.
“Shake that ass, mister!” Georgia squeals as one of the male strippers clad in a yellow patent leather Speedo and body oil gyrates, shaking his junk in all of the girls’ faces.
Cleo, to her credit, looks mildly taken aback by the debauchery, but the same can’t be said for her cousin.
Sienna is having a blast, to say the least. She whips her hair, dancing on the table of the strip club as male dancers and her friends cheer her on.
Denver and Georgia take turns dancing and egging on the birthday girl while the rest of us watch along in horror.
These girls are… something.
“I’m so happy my girl looks uncomfort—Princess?! What the hell?!” Blake exclaims, his jaw on the ground, watching as Cleo gets hoisted in the air by one of the strippers.
I suppress a laugh as Cleo giggles her heart away, taking off her signature pink bow and letting her hair down.
“You were saying?” Ryan asks, grimacing at the sight of his sister in the air.
Just as I’m about to laugh, a man wearing a G-string that leaves nothing to the imagination hoists his junk in both Jace’s and my face. I grimace, twisting to face the blond asshole next to me.
Before coming on this trip, I was promised strippers.
Did I want to watch a bunch of naked women shake their asses all night?
Nah, not really. I mean, it’d be entertaining, but I’d rather not.
However, would watching random women shake their asses leave me more satisfied than a bunch of guys shaking their dicks in my face like a helicopter parade be any better? A million times, yes.
“You’re dead when we’re done,” I say, swatting away the guy in front of me as Jace smirks.
“Oh, don’t be such a sour bear,” he teases, passing me a stripper bill.
Chuckling unamused, I ignore the bill as it falls to the floor and stand up.
My eyes immediately find her in the center of the fray.
She’s dancing her heart out with our friends as the girls begin to be led away by the male strippers.
I grin, watching as Georgia politely declines their advances, and something in me knows that I need to talk to her.
And so, without much thought, I say, “I need a drink. Want one, Blondie?”
Georgia immediately makes her way over to me, her eyes bright even though her movements are slightly slow from all of our alcohol tonight.
“HELL YEAH!” she shouts, immediately putting a stupid smile on my stupid face.
I order each of us a lemon drop and two waters. I’m settling at the bar, about to check my phone, when a hand on my shoulder has me turning to face the woman who’s been plaguing my mind for the past two hours.
“Dare?” she asks, a grin of pure chaos and mischief decorating her glass skin as she looks up at me through her thick lashes.
The true me, the cautious single father, would think long and hard before doing anything reckless. I have a kid to think about. But the look on Georgia’s face has me wanting to dive in headfirst into the deep end.
“What’s the prize?”
She grins, shrugging playfully. “Dealer’s choice.”
Smirking, I nod.
“I dare you to…” She looks around the bar, a smile on her face as I raise a brow.
“Give me a lap dance.”