Chapter Thirty-One
Amiya
W e’ve spent the day being pampered. Starting with a champagne brunch, then moving to a full-service spa. We’ve been plucked, poked, massaged, and polished to a shine. With matching manicures and outfits, we head to Lumina Station for dinner at Brasserie du Soleil.
We’re all in sleeveless black lace summer minidresses, except for Avie, who’s wearing the same dress but in white. We had her forgo the cheesy sash and gauzy veil for a tasteful, old-Hollywood bridal fascinator.
After dinner, we walk down to the riverfront, where a yacht is waiting to take us for a spin around Cape Fear, while a sexy, young mixologist makes us yummy cocktails.
“Whew, I think my cougaritis just flared up,” I say as he hands me a drink.
“Yours and mine both,” Savannah agrees.
“This is amazing,” Avie says. She’s lounging on the soft leather bench at the back of the yacht. “What’s next?”
“Ibiza,” I say.
“As in Spain?” Lisa asks.
“No, sadly, my private jet is in the shop,” I deadpan. “It’s a nightclub near the waterfront.”
“Um, I wouldn’t mind if we went back to the hotel and put on our pajamas and chilled,” Avie says.
“Really? You don’t want to dance the night away?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’ve had the best day ever. I’m good.”
I fall down on the bench beside her. “Honestly? I’m not in the mood for a loud, crowded club either. What is wrong with us?
She leans her head on my shoulder.
“We’re growing up.”
“No, say it isn’t so,” I whine.
“I’m afraid so,” she says, then mutters, “I wonder what the boys are doing.”
“Probably sitting on the dock, pretending to fish, and drinking their weight in beer,” I quip.
“I can see,” Eden says, pulling her phone from her purse. “I have Wade on Life360.”
“He lets you track him? Aw, that’s love,” I say.
“More like he tracks me.”
She taps at the screen, and then her brow furrows. “They’re in Wilmington.”
“What?! Where?” I ask.
“Not that far from us. Here’s the address.”
She turns the screen to face me, and I pull my phone out and type it in.
“The Hoochie Hut,” I say.
“What’s that?” Lisa asks.
“A strip club,” I state.
Avie laughs. “Oh my God, Anson mentioned something about a strip club, and I thought he was messing with me. I bet Sebastian wants to kill him right about now.”
“New plan, girls. We’re heading to The Hut,” I declare.
“No. Why would we go there?” Avie asks.
“To get your man. The only hoochie he’s going to be seeing tonight is your unfortunately prickly pussy.”
Lisa and Savannah decide to call it a night. We leave them in one of our rooms, wearing their silk pajamas while watching a movie.
“I want to put on my pajamas,” Avie whines.
“You can as soon as we go get the boys,” I say as we climb into the waiting Uber.
The Hoochie Hut looks exactly as one would expect.
The exterior is dark gray brick, and there’s a bear of a man guarding the door.
We stand in line, waiting for the men ahead of us to pay the cover charge.
There is a group of girls behind us. They can’t be a day over twenty-one, if that. They probably have fake IDs.
I can overhear bits of their conversation as we wait.
One of the girls is hoping to run into a guy she likes inside. They work together at a restaurant in town, and someone told her that he and his buddies were headed here after work.
She’s nervous. Her friends are trying to boost her confidence.
I turn to face them and address the one whose crush is inside. She’s an adorable doe-eyed blonde.
“Hi, girls. I couldn’t help but overhear, and I wanted to let you in on a little secret. The only reason men come to strip clubs and pay for raunchy lap dances from complete strangers is because they think they have no chance of getting laid tonight. If they thought for a second that they had a chance of having you hot bitches on their cocks, they’d be out of there so fast.”
The blonde’s lip curls, and she nods.
“Go get him,” I whisper to her.
“You should write an advice column for young women,” Eden says, as I turn back to her and Avie.
“Yeah, maybe leave the ‘having you hot bitches on their cocks’ part out though,” Avie says.
I shrug.
“She needed a confidence boost. And they are hot bitches.”
When we make it to the head of the line, we are informed that women don’t have to pay the cover charge, and they wave us on in.
I scan the room when we enter. The interior is all black walls and black lights. The only bright spot in the place is trained on the large runway-style stage, the edges of which are lined with seated customers, with a center pole to keep all the horny patrons’ attention right where they want it. There are tables scattered around the lower level, and the talent is walking around the room, offering tableside lap dances or more intimate private dances, where they lead the guy behind a curtain in the dirty, dirty far corner of the building. There are matching staircases on either side of the back of the club, which lead to the second floor. That area is roped off and only accessible to those paying for VIP bottle service.
I don’t see our group of men at first, but on my second pass, I see the top of Anson’s head above the railing on the VIP level.
I notice a sharply dressed older woman patrolling the floor, so I approach her and find out that she is tonight’s floor manager.
I explain that we are there for Avie’s bachelorette party and that we’d love to make it upstairs. She doesn’t give in at first, but after a bit of begging and a small bribe, she gets us past the velvet rope.
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this. I feel like I’m spying on Sebastian and I’m about to ruin his bachelor party,” Avie says as we walk up the stairs.
“Please, you’re about to make that man’s night. Because your sexy ass is going to give him the lap dance of his life,” I say.
“I am?”
“Yep. All three of us are,” I say.
“Eek! I used to take pole classes to build core strength, and—I’m not gonna lie—I’ve kind of always wanted to try it out in a real strip club,” Eden confesses.
I turn to her.
“Damn, you are just full of surprises.”
She beams.
When we make it to the top of the stairs, I find the boys. They are seated in front of two stages that are currently occupied by topless dancers who are gyrating around the poles.
“I bet you are so much better than that,” I encourage Eden.
The three of us sit and watch the professionals do their best work engaging the boys with their suggestive movements and seductive body language all carefully curated to get the client to loosen their purse strings. They sway their hips and make deliberate eye contact as they remove their clothing piece by piece.
It’s something to behold and I can see why men enjoy it. Our group is certainly captivated because their eyes are all locked on the women before them until the song ends. Each one pulls out their wallet and tips the dancers before they gather their discarded garments and leave.
That’s when we make our move. When the next song begins, Avie and Eden go right, and I go left.
Anson notices us first because he stands to reach for the bottle on the table. He raises an eyebrow, then grins and shakes his head.
I run my nails across Lennon’s shoulder as I round the couch, and he stiffens.
He doesn’t want one of these working girls touching him.
Avie and I lock eyes, and we enter their private space at the same time.
We are a sight in our short matching lace dresses.
Lennon is facing Wade, so I’m able to slide a leg over his lap before he sees it coming. His head snaps around, and his hand comes down to block me. His face registers surprise, and his hand falls to the side as I climb into his lap and wrap my arms around his neck.
“Hi, Sailor.”
His hands come to my hips, which move to the rhythm of the song that is blaring over the club’s speakers.
“Legs, what are you doing here?”
“Giving you a lap dance,” I answer as I twist in his lap and dip between his legs before rubbing my ass into his crotch.
I glance over to see Avie straddling Sebastian as they talk softly to each other. Eden is gliding her body all over Wade.
Parker has gotten up and moved to stand beside Anson. His eyes avoid the three of us while Anson enjoys our little show.
I lay my back against Lennon’s chest as he clutches the hem of my dress and pulls it down my thighs as far as it will go, trying to keep me covered. I can feel him growing hard.
I grab his hands and guide them up the front of my dress, and just as we reach my breasts, the song ends.
His arms come around and hug me against him.
Eden, who has grown brazen, hops out of Wade’s arms, kicks off her shoes, climbs up onto one of the makeshift stages, and grasps the pole. She manages to climb it and does one impressive slide down its length before Wade is out of his seat. He picks her shoes up and plucks her from the pole and tosses her over his shoulder. Then, he carries her toward the stairs.
“Night,” Anson calls.
Eden’s head comes up, and she waves.
Sebastian caves next as he stands, and Avie wraps her legs around his waist.
“See you guys in the morning,” he says.
“Breakfast at the diner across from the motel,” Anson yells.
Then, he turns to us.
Lennon’s arm is still surrounding me protectively.
“ Et tu, Brute ?”
I answer him by standing and turning to look at Lennon.
“Private dance, Sailor. Here? Or …”
I don’t even get the question out before he’s up and dragging me out of the club.
Anson leans over the railing and shouts, “More for us!”
Lennon raises his middle finger over his head, and Anson laughs as we walk out the exit.