“Not likely to happen but we can all dream.”
Lenny sighed. “Marriage isn’t as terrible as you make it out to be. Maybe you’ll consider it one day.”
An image of dancing with Syd that morning popped into my mind and I snorted. The same burning in my gut that overcame me in the bar, came over me at the thought of her. Yeah, I needed to get laid.
I visibly shuddered. “Bite your tongue.” I rolled my eyes. “First, you find the love of your life in law school. Then, fucking Pit shows up with a date to his bachelor party. Hell, even Jacob went and got married. The world has lost its shit. At least Kelex, Deacon, and Tak are still single as a dollar bill,” I mumbled, shaking my head.
“Maybe the universe is trying to tell you something.”
“Don’t start that weird The Universe shit with me, Lenny,” I warned. My friend believed in that sort of mess.
“Fine, it doesn’t have to be The Universe. Call it God or spir—”
“Stop right there. I don’t want to hear this right now. As for marriage, save that argument for the assclowns who don’t know any better. Get home to your wife.”
Lenny looked like he wanted to say more. I could see it in his eyes. The same look he gave me when he wanted to continue his argument, but knew I was too fucking hardheaded to listen to his reasoning.
“You’re not going to—”
“Get home to your wife, Len,” I urged, knowing where his next line of questioning was headed. He didn’t need me to answer where I was headed. He already knew, and I knew his feelings on the matter. Another thing which I didn’t want to hear about.
I gave him a final toss of my head before turning in the opposite direction and starting for where I’d parked my car. The drive was only a few minutes from the bar. I opted to pull around back to the private garage parking lot of the stand-alone building.
“Welcome back to the Peach Pit, Mr. McConnell.”
“Yeah, thanks,” I told the parking lot attendant as I handed her my keys. I watched as she strutted toward my Maserati in the skintight, short black skirt and red crop top, climbing in behind the wheel to pull my car into a parking space.
“Here you go, Mr. McConnell. Enjoy your evening,” the other chick behind the booth told me as she handed me a key tag for the night.
I nodded and moved past her booth to the elevator doors that would lead up to the second floor of the building. I was able to skip the first floor entrance since I was a member of the particular club.
As soon as the elevator doors parted the dark strobe lights and loud rhythmic music welcomed me in. There were lounge chairs and booths set up throughout the room. I counted at least five different chicks giving lap dances. I made a beeline for the bar.
“What’s your flavor of the night, McConnell?” the red headed bartender questioned as she leaned over the counter, exposing her surgically enhanced boobs. I didn’t bother hiding my stare as I dropped my gaze to scope out her merchandise.
“I’m looking for some brown sugar tonight, Bosom. Medium brown skin, about five-six, thick thighs and hips but small up top.”
She rolled her eyes at the nickname I’d dubbed her with since the first time I stepped into Peach Pit over two years ago.
“One day you’re going to remember my actual name.”
“Don’t count on it, sweetheart,” I quickly shot back before giving her a smirk.
“Lookin’ to get wasted tonight?” She turned her head and lifted her gaze to the selection behind her.
I shook my head. “Right now, I’m looking to get the snake drained.”
She nodded. “We’ve got whatever you want on the menu.”
“That’s the only reason I come here, doll.”
She motioned her head in the direction of the private rooms. “2D is all yours for the night.”
I nodded and started down the hall, passing stripper after stripper winking at me, trying to convince me to pay them for a dance.
Not now, sweets. I thought.
That night, I had only one goal in mind. To get a certain woman out of my thoughts. Which, of course, was why I’d asked for a Black chick with the specifications I’d requested.
