I tilted my head against the cold window of the car, letting my thoughts roam freely. I didn't want to go. All I craved was to be back in my bed, wrapped in my thoughts, and easing my soul with a bowl of ice cream.
But damn, I let Lisa talk me into going clubbing with her. Why did I agree to this? I had no clue.
"We've arrived," the Uber driver announced, interrupting my thoughts.
"Thanks... Here," I replied, handing the driver payment as I stepped out of the car.
I adjusted the sparkly peachy-pink mini dress that Lisa had forcefully made me wear. Its a V-cut neckline, exposing a nice amount of cleavage, and a silver detailing with a criss-cross back. The dress was too tight and revealing for my liking, but it was either this or the naked dress that barely covered my body. It hugged every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Teetering in silver killer heels, my hair pulled up into a sleek ponytail, and light nude makeup to match.
I felt like I'd stepped out of a high-end brothel, and I could almost hear my mum turning in her grave at the sight of me.
"Here goes nothing," I murmured to myself, bracing myself for what lay ahead as the wind ruffled my hair. With a mix of nerves and determination, I strode towards the building.
The word "Paradise" was embellished across the building, accompanied by a provocative silhouette of a woman on her knees, and a man standing above her with his crotch near her face.
I felt the urge to flee or vomit, but it was too late. The Uber had already driven off, and Lisa stood just a few feet away from me, waiting by the door with a beaming smile.
She looked stunning in a sexy black strapless bodycon dress, featuring a halter neckline and ruched detailing. Paired with sky-high silver heels, her hair styled in elegant curls, and a smoky eye makeup look, she exuded confidence and allure.
"You're right on time!" Lisa exclaimed, pulling me into a tight hug as soon as I was within reach, almost knocking me off my feet.
"Too tight," I gasped, feeling suffocated in the clingy dress.
"Sorry," she apologized, stepping back. "You look smoking hot in that dress," she added with a giggle.
"More like a porn star," I muttered, shooting her a pointed glare.
"Don't be a party pooper," Lisa scoffed, grabbing me by the waist as we walked over to the door.
My gaze followed the long line of people waiting to get in, wondering what the hype was all about. Sure, I knew it was a new club and probably ridiculously expensive, given how Lisa hadn't stopped talking about it. She couldn't stop talking about how wild the club was rumored to be and how she'd been dying to go.
Fortunately for Lisa, Damien had a cousin named Derick who was friends with the manager. With a little pull, we were granted entry as long as we promised to be on our best behavior.
Taking a deep breath, I exhaled slowly as we approached the club entrance.
"Hi, Milo," Lisa greeted the 6′4 bouncer. He nodded and flashed us a boyish grin, which I found slightly unsettling, before stepping aside to let us through.
As we stepped inside, the muffled sound of music became clearer, pulsing through the air. But as the main door swung open, we were engulfed by the thumping bass, dim lights, and swirling dry-ice smoke that filled the room. The air was thick with the mingling scents of liquor, sweat, and smoke.
People laughed, danced, drank, and smoked, their energy contagious as they reveled in the atmosphere. It was a scene of pure excitement and enjoyment, with everyone caught up in the moment, having the time of their lives.
Now, it was evident why so many people were eager to get inside. The club exuded an electrifying, primal sexual energy that sent shivers down my spine and set my stomach abuzz with excitement.
There were strippers clad in luxurious lingerie, unmistakably from Victoria's Secret, a brand I adored. Some were poised on poles, while others gyrated in cages suspended above us, their tits proudly on display and adorned with collars around their necks.
The infectious good vibes spread like wildfire, igniting the dance floor with a frenzy of sweaty, intoxicated revelers. Bodies pressed tightly together, writhing and grinding to the pulsating beat of the music.
Waitresses, dressed scantily with slave collars, weaved through the crowd, carrying trays of drinks that glowed in the dim light. Empty bottles and glasses littered the bar, with shots lined up and bartenders serving bottles of booze in rapid succession.
Lisa seized my arm, pulling me through the throng of bodies as voices clamored in my ears, attempting to communicate over the deafening music.
I caught sight of a group of guys drinking and laughing, indulging in some white substance off a silver plate.
We finally spotted Damien and his cousin in the far corner of the club. Derick had his face buried between a stripper's tits as she gave him a lap dance. As we approached, Damien yanked Lisa into his arms, his mouth immediately crashing against hers, kissing her like he owned every inch of her.
I could feel Damien's eyes burning into me the whole time, undressing me with his filthy gaze while his lips were glued to Lisa's. She was too lost in their heated kiss to notice him shamelessly eye-fucking me, his tongue deep in her mouth but his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Grabbing two drinks from a passing waitress, I brought one to my lips and knocked it back in one go. The sharp bite of vodka seared its way down my throat, burning like liquid fire. I grimaced at the taste—harsh, like spiced seawater—but welcomed the burn, savoring the numbness that followed.
How do people even enjoy this? I wondered, hesitating before forcing down another shot, hoping it would go down smoother this time.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, Lisa?" a voice cut through the haze just as I slammed the glass back down.
"Not happening, Ric," Lisa muttered, her voice slightly muffled as Damien nibbled on her neck, his lips trailing possessively over her skin.
"Why not?" Ric's voice carried a playful pout, his gaze lingering a little too long.
"For one, you're a fuckboy," she scoffed, swirling the amber liquid in her glass, her eyes daring him to deny it.
"Come on, Mel," Ric grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Every lady loves a fuckboy." He slowed his words, letting the last part roll off his tongue as his gaze locked on me.
I let a sultry smile curve my lips, leaning in closer, my palm resting on his thigh. My cleavage is on full display, and I can feel the heat of his gaze burning into my chest. The smell of liquor on his breath is unmistakable, and the lust in his eyes is palpable as he drinks in the sight of me.
Slowly, I trace my hand over my body, deliberately drawing his attention. His eyes follow, dark and hungry, his lips curving into a smirk as I slide my hand between my thighs. The moment my fingers hook around the elastic band of my panties, pulling them down, his breath catches, and I can feel the tension in the air crackling between us.
His emerald eyes gleam with excitement, darkening with lust as he licks his lips, desire written all over his face. The bulge in his trousers speaks volumes about his need, his control slipping by the second.
"Damn," Damien whistles, and Lisa lets out a playful hoot as I twirl the peach thong around my finger, teasingly.
I smirk, leaning in just enough for my breath to brush his ear. "I don't fuck boys," I purr, dragging the last word deliberately, my grin widening. "I fuck men."
Surprised by my own boldness, I felt a flicker of hesitation, but quickly masked it with a confident smirk. This wasn't like me, but I was too deep into the moment to care. "Here's a little gift for you to jerk off to, boy," I whispered, slipping my panties into his palm before releasing his arm.
The alcohol was definitely hitting me hard, but the rush of control, of power, was intoxicating in its own way.
"That's my girl!" Lisa cheered, sliding another shot toward me. I downed it without a second thought, relishing the burn.
Damien chuckled, his eyes glinting knowingly, while Ric smirked, rubbing his thumb along his stubble, clearly enjoying the challenge I'd thrown down.
*****************
As the night raged on, Ric's friends from work rolled in, turning the party even wilder. Laughter blended with booze, and the bass-heavy music vibrated through the room as everyone danced and drank without a care.
The game of spin the bottle had gotten filthy in the past hour, pushing every limit. Alisha, one of Ric's coworkers, begrudgingly made out with Damien, while Lisa glared daggers, clearly pissed but saying nothing. Ric, on the other hand, was practically naked, stripped down to just his boxers after losing multiple rounds. Lisa had to grind on his lap, her body moving sinfully against his, though his discomfort was clear, but no one cared. The crowd egged her on.
Tom, another one of Ric's colleagues, had to down a foul mix of ten random drinks in one go, gagging but pushing through.
Everyone had done something filthy—except me.
I leaned back, my eyes scanning the rowdy, lust-filled club, looking for the next thrill to get me in on the action.
My gaze locked onto a dark, secluded corner of the club where a group of men sat, dominating the space like they owned it. Six of them, all suited up in sharp, tailored black suits, a stark contrast to the chaos surrounding them. Four on the right, two on the left, but my eyes zeroed in on the one seated first on the left—there was something about him that hit differently.
Even in the dim, flashing lights, he stood out. Jet-black hair, cut close but messy enough to look effortlessly perfect, sharp cheekbones that could slice through glass, and eyes so dark they seemed to absorb the light. I couldn't make out their exact color, but fuck, they were intense. He oozed raw sex appeal, a dangerous charm that had my body reacting without permission. My throat dried up, and it wasn't from the drink in my hand.
I swirled my glass, pretending to sip, but really, I was drinking him in.
The man leaned back in his chair like he owned the damn club, every move slow, deliberate, like he was in no rush. His fingers brushed lazily over his lower lip, the kind of gesture that made me wonder how that lip would feel against my skin. His eyes weren't on me—they were on the poor bastard speaking to him, but his expression was cool, composed, completely in control.
He looked like the kind of man who didn't ask for permission. He took what he wanted.
As if sensing the weight of my gaze, his eyes flicked to mine. Dark, smoldering, and intense—like he could strip me bare with just one look. My stomach twisted, and I quickly looked away, heat rushing to my cheeks. Embarrassed. Caught.
"Looks like something caught your eye," Lisa's voice cuts through, a teasing grin spreading across her lips.
Damien snorts, his arm slung lazily around her shoulders. "More like someone caught her eye." His wink is nothing short of infuriating.
"Whatever," I groaned, downing the rest of my drink, hoping it'd cool the heat rushing through me. But nothing could shake the image of that man, the way he held me captive with just a look.
"Your turn," Ric's voice cut through the tension, his smirk widening as his eyes sparkled with mischief.
I glanced at the bottle, and of course, just my fucking luck—it was pointing directly at me.
I cursed under my breath, already knowing this was going to be trouble.
"Anyone but you," I muttered, bracing myself for whatever ridiculous stunt he'd try to pull.
Ric's smirk deepened, his eyes raking over me like he was already imagining the possibilities. "Come on, scared you might end up begging me to screw you?" His voice was low, taunting, and his fingers traced his jaw lazily as if he was already envisioning how this would end.
"Not a fucking chance," I snap, my voice low and sharp, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten under my skin.
The room feels charged, the air thick with tension as our eyes lock. I can feel his gaze strip me down, and I match it with my own—unflinching, defiant. There's no way in hell I'm backing down from this, not tonight.
Ric's smirk doesn't waver, if anything, it grows darker, more dangerous. He leans forward, eyes locked onto mine, like a predator who's just spotted his prey. "You sure about that?" His voice drops, thick with the kind of challenge that sends a ripple of tension through the air.
I don't break eye contact, my pulse hammering in my throat, but I don't show it. "Positive." My words come out steady, even though everything about his presence feels suffocating.
"Then prove it," he says, pushing the bottle toward me with his index finger. His tongue drags lazily over his bottom lip, daring me to take the bait.
I glance at the bottle, then back at him. "Fine. I'll play." My voice drips with mock confidence, even though part of me is bracing for whatever insanity he's going to throw my way.
Ric chuckles, leaning back in his seat again, satisfied with his victory. "Alright, sweetheart. Truth or dare?"
I roll my eyes, my patience hanging by a thread. "Dare."
His smile turns wicked, and I instantly regret my choice.
"I dare you to," he nods towards the table of suits where the dark-haired stranger sits, still watching, still exuding that quiet, powerful energy, " do whatever it takes to get his attention."
"What?!" I exclaimed, taken aback by his audacity.
A sharp wave of heat courses through me, not from the dare itself, but from the intensity of the stranger's gaze. I steal a glance in his direction, and our eyes meet again. It's like being pinned under a spotlight. His stare is unreadable, but I can sense the control, the dominance lurking behind it.
"Make him come to you," he continued, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, relishing the moment. "Mm-hmm," he added, raising an eyebrow before I could voice any objections.
Damien chuckles lowly beside Lisa, the two of them clearly enjoying the show. "I'd pay to see this," Damien mutters.
I shouldn't have been surprised. This was classic Damien.
"No way," I shot back, my eyes darting to Lisa, but to my dismay, she was beaming with excitement, clearly thrilled by the challenge.
"You'd pay for anything involving her," Lisa quips, though there's a glint of interest in her eyes too.
"Chicken," Damien scoffed, and the rest joined in, clinking their glasses against the table, the sound ringing in my ears like a taunt.
"Ok! I will do it" I spat, downing the last dregs of my drink before pushing myself up from the chair, adrenaline coursing through my veins like wildfire.
I shake off the lingering tension that's wrapped around my chest, squaring my shoulders. Fine. If that's how they want to play, I'll play. But I won't be the one leaving embarrassed.
With determination igniting my every step, I sauntered to the dance floor, my hips swaying provocatively to the pulsating beat that reverberated through the club. I could feel their hungry gazes followed my every move, but mine was focused solely on the man across the room.
Our eyes met briefly, but he didn't budge, returning to his conversation, leaving me stranded in a sea of uncertainty.
Fuck this. I'm way too sober for this bullshit.
I snatched two shots from a cute guy dancing nearby and downed them in a swift motion. The acrid burn of the liquor slid down my throat, igniting a wicked fire in my veins, erasing all hesitation with each reckless gulp. My morals and common sense dissolved into nothing, leaving behind a fierce abandon that felt electrifying.
With my inhibitions fading, I closed my eyes and let the music engulf me, allowing the rhythm to awaken something primal within. The air thickened, and with it came an intoxicating surge of confidence that transformed my movements into something downright seductive.
My hands glided over my body, tracing the curves of my breasts and hips, a sultry dance that dared him to come closer. The world around me faded, and all that existed was this intoxicating moment and the man standing just a few feet away, cloaked in black, watching me like I was his next meal.
I opened my eyes, scanning the room for Mr. Handsome, only to find his seat empty. A wave of disappointment crashed over me, heavy and suffocating. My confidence wavered, and I felt like a fool for ever thinking I could pull this off.
Just as embarrassment threatened to swallow me whole, a pair of strong hands gripped my waist, yanking me back against a solid, unyielding chest.
An intense, rich cologne invaded my senses, sophisticated and undeniably masculine, sending shivers racing down my spine.
I whipped around, ready to confront whoever dared to touch me without permission. But as I turned, my breath hitched, and I froze, utterly captivated.
It was him.
********************%**************
So guy! Tell me, what do you think ?
Thank you😘😘
xoxo RMP