were clear, support you. So hand me your phone and I’ll snap some pictures while I do just that. After all, it’s all about the memories, isn’t it?” I lifted a challenging brow, daring her to argue her own words.
“You did hear the word ‘maid’ in there, right? ’Cause supporting me tonight is gonna be all about workin’ it!”
“No way. I can’t have a lap dance. I mean…I wouldn’t even know what to do.”
Julia exploded in a fit of giggles as she approached, overhearing my desperation.
“So who’s it gonna be, sugar?” The stripper was still waiting but I could hardly lift my head, embarrassment weighing it down.
“Oh, come on, do this for me!” Hilary pleaded, biting back her poorly concealed laughter. “It’s not like they can dance in my lap with this huge bump in between us. I’m living vicariously through you. That’s support!”
“Yeah, Cassandra!” Julia stood at my back now. “What my brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And rule number one, what happens at the bachelorette party stays at the bachelorette party!”
Of course it does.
Why a thirty-six-week-pregnant woman was even out at a place like this should raise some serious red flags; definitely not your typical strip-club attendee. And since Julia had already made enough memories tonight to last for a lifetime of sexually awkward dreams, that left me the best option as the lap-dance recipient.
“Just relax and enjoy, doll face,” the stripper guy, now astride my lap, crooned.
Here goes nothing.
My hands locked tightly around the arms of the chair, eyes snapping shut. They remained that way until his body heat began to subside. Only then did I dare to crack them open a sliver, which was still too soon—just in time to catch his ass in front of me, performing of its own volition.
No man should have control over his muscles like that!
Slowly, I let my head fall toward Hilary, who was watching in appreciation and amazement. Thankfully, the song ended a few seconds later and I was able to find a deep inhale of relief.
Fresh out of singles, I held out a trembling hand awkwardly and thanked the stud. Our small group erupted in laughter at my expense just as the flash of Hilary’s camera captured the moment.
“You know, maybe we should’ve done something different tonight. I doubt the guys have strippers.” I tried for nonchalance as I stared down at my empty glass, hoping to instill some guilt in them.
Julia scoffed. “Of course they don’t!” She snatched my glass and snagged the passing waiter for a refill. “Luke planned it, so don’t worry. It’s just a poker game.”
Hilary clucked her tongue. “Ah, I wouldn’t be so sure, ladies.” She sipped her apple juice, staring down thoughtfully for a fleeting second.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Julia rushed back.
“All I’m saying is I’ve been to a few of the card games Caleb has frequented in the city. They weren’t exactly tame.”
“Really?” My curiosity was piqued. “We’re going to need specifics here.”
“And quick,” Julia added.
But before Hilary could answer, a new muscleman dressed as whom I could only assume was Tarzan appeared onstage and grabbed the mic. “Just because we can’t dance on her doesn’t mean we can’t dance for her! Let’s get the bride-to-be up here!”
For the first time all night, Hilary’s cheeks burst into a deep red flush as a spotlight was cast over her. But with one mischievous glance my way, my suspicion was confirmed, deep down, she was loving it.
“Come on!” Tarzan called out, his hand resting casually on the awaiting chair center stage. “Get her up here!”
The crowd went wild as Tarzan beckoned Hilary on stage with a string of sexy endearments most women would’ve crawled to him to hear more of.
I helped her up, then smacked her ass. “Go get ’em!”
Julia stood beside me, shrieking and cheering until Hilary stopped just shy of the stage, her entire body stiffening and
“You did hear the word ‘maid’ in there, right? ’Cause supporting me tonight is gonna be all about workin’ it!”
“No way. I can’t have a lap dance. I mean…I wouldn’t even know what to do.”
Julia exploded in a fit of giggles as she approached, overhearing my desperation.
“So who’s it gonna be, sugar?” The stripper was still waiting but I could hardly lift my head, embarrassment weighing it down.
“Oh, come on, do this for me!” Hilary pleaded, biting back her poorly concealed laughter. “It’s not like they can dance in my lap with this huge bump in between us. I’m living vicariously through you. That’s support!”
“Yeah, Cassandra!” Julia stood at my back now. “What my brother doesn’t know won’t hurt him. And rule number one, what happens at the bachelorette party stays at the bachelorette party!”
Of course it does.
Why a thirty-six-week-pregnant woman was even out at a place like this should raise some serious red flags; definitely not your typical strip-club attendee. And since Julia had already made enough memories tonight to last for a lifetime of sexually awkward dreams, that left me the best option as the lap-dance recipient.
“Just relax and enjoy, doll face,” the stripper guy, now astride my lap, crooned.
Here goes nothing.
My hands locked tightly around the arms of the chair, eyes snapping shut. They remained that way until his body heat began to subside. Only then did I dare to crack them open a sliver, which was still too soon—just in time to catch his ass in front of me, performing of its own volition.
No man should have control over his muscles like that!
Slowly, I let my head fall toward Hilary, who was watching in appreciation and amazement. Thankfully, the song ended a few seconds later and I was able to find a deep inhale of relief.
Fresh out of singles, I held out a trembling hand awkwardly and thanked the stud. Our small group erupted in laughter at my expense just as the flash of Hilary’s camera captured the moment.
“You know, maybe we should’ve done something different tonight. I doubt the guys have strippers.” I tried for nonchalance as I stared down at my empty glass, hoping to instill some guilt in them.
Julia scoffed. “Of course they don’t!” She snatched my glass and snagged the passing waiter for a refill. “Luke planned it, so don’t worry. It’s just a poker game.”
Hilary clucked her tongue. “Ah, I wouldn’t be so sure, ladies.” She sipped her apple juice, staring down thoughtfully for a fleeting second.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Julia rushed back.
“All I’m saying is I’ve been to a few of the card games Caleb has frequented in the city. They weren’t exactly tame.”
“Really?” My curiosity was piqued. “We’re going to need specifics here.”
“And quick,” Julia added.
But before Hilary could answer, a new muscleman dressed as whom I could only assume was Tarzan appeared onstage and grabbed the mic. “Just because we can’t dance on her doesn’t mean we can’t dance for her! Let’s get the bride-to-be up here!”
For the first time all night, Hilary’s cheeks burst into a deep red flush as a spotlight was cast over her. But with one mischievous glance my way, my suspicion was confirmed, deep down, she was loving it.
“Come on!” Tarzan called out, his hand resting casually on the awaiting chair center stage. “Get her up here!”
The crowd went wild as Tarzan beckoned Hilary on stage with a string of sexy endearments most women would’ve crawled to him to hear more of.
I helped her up, then smacked her ass. “Go get ’em!”
Julia stood beside me, shrieking and cheering until Hilary stopped just shy of the stage, her entire body stiffening and
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