partitions.
Vanessa had her first wave of doubt as she eyed that line. The line meant she
wasn’t getting in. The line didn’t move, which also meant the club was probably
full and most likely, only a handful more people might get in before closing.
Still, she crossed to the sidewalk and
headed down toward the entrance. People glanced her way, some girls giving her
dirty looks as if to say ‘if we can’t get in, you can’t either!’ They were
probably right, too. She kept her chin held high and walked up to two tall,
broad-chested men who looked like they spent a lot of time in the gym.
She put on her best smile. “What’s it
take to dance in this place?”
The bouncer didn’t look fazed by her
smile. “Fifty dollar cover fee and a wait in line.”
“Damn,” she muttered.
The bouncer next to him elbowed his
buddy. “Let her in.”
Bouncer number one looked at number two
in disbelief. “Why the hell should I?”
Bouncer number two winked at her. “Beautiful
women are always welcome in the club.”
She didn’t want to blush, but it
happened anyway. “We got a line of hot babes, Carl,” replied bouncer one.
“None without a fake tan and a shit-ton
of makeup. Just let her in.”
After some grumbling, bouncer one lifted
the hook on the velvety red rope and she passed through, giving bouncer two a
bright smile as he held the door open with her.
“Have a good time, babe.”
“Will do,” she promised and winked back.
As she made her way into the club, she
realized she was closer to reaching goal number two pretty quickly. Though the
bouncer wasn’t hot so much as attractive, and he certainly didn’t get her
hormones pumping like Brayden did. Oh, well, she sighed and squeezed her way
into the club. The pulsing music, the dark atmosphere with sweeping and
blinking blue, pink, and red lights instantly enthralled her. The club had a
rectangular dance floor packed full with bodies, people throwing up their hands
and cheering on a DJ who worked the turntable on a small stage up above.
Smiling, she took it all in. There was
another floor above her and people crowded against the railing, dancing in
place and swinging their hands in the air to the pulsing, hip-shaking rhythm of
the music. Vanessa waded her way through the pile of bodies down a short flight
of stairs to a bar. She didn’t mind waiting for the bartender to see her
because she moved in place to the music, grinning like a fool. Finally, the bartender
spotted her and she ordered a hurricane. She’d never tried one before but she
heard it had lots of alcohol in it and she planned to get shit-faced tonight.
One couldn’t go clubbing and not loosen up a bit, right? She paid cash for the
drink and sipped her sweet and very strong tasting hurricane as she made her
way back upstairs to the main dance floor.
A DJ with a deep, sexy voice spoke into
the mic and the crowd went wild before he did some fancy whirling sounding
thing on his turntable and rolled them into another hip-thrusting rhythm. Oh God,
it felt so good she just wanted to scream. She finished her drink way faster
than she knew she should considering she never drank, deposited it on a small
table with other empty drinks, then squirmed her way in between the bodies, and
lost herself in the rhythm of the music.
Eyes closed, she swung her hips, dipped
her knees, raised her hands and found a sort of freedom in her heart she’d
never experienced before. She felt so alive . Suddenly, a strong arm
wrapped around her waist, and panic rushed through her making her breath catch,
but one look over her shoulder found a good-looking human with gelled up black
hair wearing too much cologne. She didn’t care; she danced with him. He swayed
with her, spun her out the best he could in the tight space, then twirled her
back into his arms where they writhed together, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.
The song ended and she cheered along
with the rest of the crowd. The man grinned down at her and stuck
Vanessa had her first wave of doubt as she eyed that line. The line meant she
wasn’t getting in. The line didn’t move, which also meant the club was probably
full and most likely, only a handful more people might get in before closing.
Still, she crossed to the sidewalk and
headed down toward the entrance. People glanced her way, some girls giving her
dirty looks as if to say ‘if we can’t get in, you can’t either!’ They were
probably right, too. She kept her chin held high and walked up to two tall,
broad-chested men who looked like they spent a lot of time in the gym.
She put on her best smile. “What’s it
take to dance in this place?”
The bouncer didn’t look fazed by her
smile. “Fifty dollar cover fee and a wait in line.”
“Damn,” she muttered.
The bouncer next to him elbowed his
buddy. “Let her in.”
Bouncer number one looked at number two
in disbelief. “Why the hell should I?”
Bouncer number two winked at her. “Beautiful
women are always welcome in the club.”
She didn’t want to blush, but it
happened anyway. “We got a line of hot babes, Carl,” replied bouncer one.
“None without a fake tan and a shit-ton
of makeup. Just let her in.”
After some grumbling, bouncer one lifted
the hook on the velvety red rope and she passed through, giving bouncer two a
bright smile as he held the door open with her.
“Have a good time, babe.”
“Will do,” she promised and winked back.
As she made her way into the club, she
realized she was closer to reaching goal number two pretty quickly. Though the
bouncer wasn’t hot so much as attractive, and he certainly didn’t get her
hormones pumping like Brayden did. Oh, well, she sighed and squeezed her way
into the club. The pulsing music, the dark atmosphere with sweeping and
blinking blue, pink, and red lights instantly enthralled her. The club had a
rectangular dance floor packed full with bodies, people throwing up their hands
and cheering on a DJ who worked the turntable on a small stage up above.
Smiling, she took it all in. There was
another floor above her and people crowded against the railing, dancing in
place and swinging their hands in the air to the pulsing, hip-shaking rhythm of
the music. Vanessa waded her way through the pile of bodies down a short flight
of stairs to a bar. She didn’t mind waiting for the bartender to see her
because she moved in place to the music, grinning like a fool. Finally, the bartender
spotted her and she ordered a hurricane. She’d never tried one before but she
heard it had lots of alcohol in it and she planned to get shit-faced tonight.
One couldn’t go clubbing and not loosen up a bit, right? She paid cash for the
drink and sipped her sweet and very strong tasting hurricane as she made her
way back upstairs to the main dance floor.
A DJ with a deep, sexy voice spoke into
the mic and the crowd went wild before he did some fancy whirling sounding
thing on his turntable and rolled them into another hip-thrusting rhythm. Oh God,
it felt so good she just wanted to scream. She finished her drink way faster
than she knew she should considering she never drank, deposited it on a small
table with other empty drinks, then squirmed her way in between the bodies, and
lost herself in the rhythm of the music.
Eyes closed, she swung her hips, dipped
her knees, raised her hands and found a sort of freedom in her heart she’d
never experienced before. She felt so alive . Suddenly, a strong arm
wrapped around her waist, and panic rushed through her making her breath catch,
but one look over her shoulder found a good-looking human with gelled up black
hair wearing too much cologne. She didn’t care; she danced with him. He swayed
with her, spun her out the best he could in the tight space, then twirled her
back into his arms where they writhed together, chest to chest, thigh to thigh.
The song ended and she cheered along
with the rest of the crowd. The man grinned down at her and stuck
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