Read Online Rough & Tumble by Kristen Hope Mazzola - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kristen Hope Mazzola
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to that hotter-than-hell model.
Brittainy: So what? You know that isn’t going to last!
It’d lasted since five months after he and I had broken up. She was his arm candy trophy wife just like freaking Ryan Tannehill and his Barbie Doll look alike. Of course it was going to last. He and I were a thing of the past, and it needed to stay that way.
Me: Let’s drop the Bo issue. Are we celebrating tonight or what?
Brittainy: Heck yes we are. Meet at your place at eight?
Me: See you then!
My doorbell rang and Molly started crying and scratching at the door while I was putting on my mascara.
“Coming.”
I jogged to the front door and swung it open to see my best friend towering over me, all dolled up with her long red hair curled, knock out nude pumps, and a tight black skirt with a shimmery light blue top. With her six inch pumps, Brit was easily a foot taller than my five-foot-four frame. She could have been a model, but she loved being on the other side of the camera just as much as I did.
“You look great, Brit!”
We hugged and she knelt down to pet Molly, who was rolled over on her back, tail wagging a mile a minute.
“Thanks girl, so do you!”
I glanced over to the mirror to double check my outfit.
Smoldering smoky eyes – check.
Loose black barrel curls bouncing nicely – check.
Tight off-white skirt ironed right – check.
Black blouse tucked in and looking ok – check.
Bombshell bra making me look like I have some kind of curves – check.
Turquoise stilettos – check.
Looking across my kitchen where Brittainy was leaned over to scratch Molly behind her ear, I envied her curvy, tall body. I was still the itty-bitty flyer that had cheered for my squad. I shrugged off my insecurities while putting on deep red matte lipstick.
“So where are we going tonight?”
Brittainy’s face lit up as her freckled cheeks got a little red. “I was thinking Vixens.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you want to go to a strip club again.”
“Oh come on, this one is new and classy. Besides, I haven’t gotten any in so long and you know that you have fun too.”
When Brit and I first met, she claimed to be straight, then confessed she was bi about a semester and a half into us being random roommates freshman year, but lately she was leaning more and more toward just liking girls. I had no problem with it; to each their own. She never hit on me, except for that one time we ended up making out at a frat party, but that was mostly because we were lightly encouraged to by Bo and his friends.
“Fine. We’ll go.”
Brit hooked her arm around my neck and kissed me on my cheek. “Besides,”—she giggled, grabbing my clutch off the counter and handing it to me—“you have more of a chance of finding a dude to bang the memory of Bo out of your pretty little head at a strip club than I do of going home with one of the strippers.”
“All right, fine, we’ll go to Vixens. It better be as nice as you say it is.”
Brit’s eyes lit up as she led the way out of my front door. “I promise. We’ll have a good time!”
It didn’t take long for us to get to the club, have drinks in hand, and be right up front at one of the stages. I had to hand it to Brittainy, she was right: Vixens was clean, classy, and seductive. The lighting was perfectly dim with purple and white fixtures on the walls. The artwork was gorgeous boudoir black and whites. The chairs were soft dark leather and I didn’t feel like I needed to sit on a towel to avoid pregnancy.
The music was thumping as the next stripper took the stage in front of us. Brittainy’s eyes got wide and her smile turned lustful as she sucked on her bottom lip. I swear she was worse than dudes when it came to gawking and fawning over chicks she found attractive.
The server came over to us to grab another round.
“I’ll have rum and diet and she will have a vodka soda lime with a splash of cranberry.”
Brittainy was in her own little world and
Brittainy: So what? You know that isn’t going to last!
It’d lasted since five months after he and I had broken up. She was his arm candy trophy wife just like freaking Ryan Tannehill and his Barbie Doll look alike. Of course it was going to last. He and I were a thing of the past, and it needed to stay that way.
Me: Let’s drop the Bo issue. Are we celebrating tonight or what?
Brittainy: Heck yes we are. Meet at your place at eight?
Me: See you then!
My doorbell rang and Molly started crying and scratching at the door while I was putting on my mascara.
“Coming.”
I jogged to the front door and swung it open to see my best friend towering over me, all dolled up with her long red hair curled, knock out nude pumps, and a tight black skirt with a shimmery light blue top. With her six inch pumps, Brit was easily a foot taller than my five-foot-four frame. She could have been a model, but she loved being on the other side of the camera just as much as I did.
“You look great, Brit!”
We hugged and she knelt down to pet Molly, who was rolled over on her back, tail wagging a mile a minute.
“Thanks girl, so do you!”
I glanced over to the mirror to double check my outfit.
Smoldering smoky eyes – check.
Loose black barrel curls bouncing nicely – check.
Tight off-white skirt ironed right – check.
Black blouse tucked in and looking ok – check.
Bombshell bra making me look like I have some kind of curves – check.
Turquoise stilettos – check.
Looking across my kitchen where Brittainy was leaned over to scratch Molly behind her ear, I envied her curvy, tall body. I was still the itty-bitty flyer that had cheered for my squad. I shrugged off my insecurities while putting on deep red matte lipstick.
“So where are we going tonight?”
Brittainy’s face lit up as her freckled cheeks got a little red. “I was thinking Vixens.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course you want to go to a strip club again.”
“Oh come on, this one is new and classy. Besides, I haven’t gotten any in so long and you know that you have fun too.”
When Brit and I first met, she claimed to be straight, then confessed she was bi about a semester and a half into us being random roommates freshman year, but lately she was leaning more and more toward just liking girls. I had no problem with it; to each their own. She never hit on me, except for that one time we ended up making out at a frat party, but that was mostly because we were lightly encouraged to by Bo and his friends.
“Fine. We’ll go.”
Brit hooked her arm around my neck and kissed me on my cheek. “Besides,”—she giggled, grabbing my clutch off the counter and handing it to me—“you have more of a chance of finding a dude to bang the memory of Bo out of your pretty little head at a strip club than I do of going home with one of the strippers.”
“All right, fine, we’ll go to Vixens. It better be as nice as you say it is.”
Brit’s eyes lit up as she led the way out of my front door. “I promise. We’ll have a good time!”
It didn’t take long for us to get to the club, have drinks in hand, and be right up front at one of the stages. I had to hand it to Brittainy, she was right: Vixens was clean, classy, and seductive. The lighting was perfectly dim with purple and white fixtures on the walls. The artwork was gorgeous boudoir black and whites. The chairs were soft dark leather and I didn’t feel like I needed to sit on a towel to avoid pregnancy.
The music was thumping as the next stripper took the stage in front of us. Brittainy’s eyes got wide and her smile turned lustful as she sucked on her bottom lip. I swear she was worse than dudes when it came to gawking and fawning over chicks she found attractive.
The server came over to us to grab another round.
“I’ll have rum and diet and she will have a vodka soda lime with a splash of cranberry.”
Brittainy was in her own little world and
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