This shit would be boring as a Sunday service without the women and the booze. If we wanted to sit around and chat by ourselves, we could manage that literally anywhere other than a nightclub; guys night is just an excuse to get wasted and find an easy hookup or two.
Those of us still here spend the next few hours boozing and puffing cigars, occasionally getting up to dance with our guests if they happen to invite us. It’s almost three in the morning when last call is given, and I pay our bill, writing out checks for a couple grand to each of our lingerie-clad friends before we make our way down toward the exit, one of my arms wrapped around Crystal’s neck, the other around the neck of another, taller girl I didn’t bother to get the name of.
•
When we reach my penthouse apartment, it takes all of five minutes for the three of us to shed our clothes, leaving a trail of fabric behind us like breadcrumbs leading back to my bedroom. The shorter one seems to shy away, moving herself into a corner while her taller friend climbs on top of me and slips my dick inside of her, riding me so energetically it makes me wonder for a minute if she’s not trying to act out something she saw in a porn once.
Even with her friend’s dramatics, I catch the shorter one – Crystal – in the corner of my eye, one hand on her pussy, playing with her clit with the other arm pressed over her chest, squishing her tits while she tries to preserve some illusion of modesty.
“You gonna sit there playing with that pussy all night? Or you gonna get up here and sit on my face?” I ask her.
Her body language is timid while she steps toward the bed – one of those girls who play up the flirting and talk a big game, but get insecure when it’s time to play. Nothing wrong with that; if she wants to leave, she can – but the closer she gets, the more confident she becomes.
As she takes a seat on the bed next to me, with her friend clawing away at my chest, I point to my face and tell her, “Face your friend and sit down, darlin’.”
Her eyes go wide. “Are you—”
A raised brow stops her questioning and she climbs up to straddle me, hovering over my face in front of her friend. I grab onto her hips and yank her closer until her pussy is on my mouth. I bring her to my mercy with my tongue, using my jewelry to toy with her clit. The moans of her and her friend are muffled as their mouths meet above me, riding my face and my cock simultaneously.
The three of us spend hours together, resting and repeating in a tangle of limbs, lips and tongues, before we finally crash. On most other nights, I’d call them a cab and send them on their merry way, but I’m too tired and too damn drunk to give a shit right now.
•
From across the room, my alarm screams at me and I sit up, grabbing my splitting head as the sound pierces through my brain and the sun forces its way through my window like a fucking spear of burning light. The girls from last night are sprawled out on the bed, on either side of me, and I give myself a satisfied nod as I take in their naked bodies before I climb off of the bed to walk toward the bathroom.
The floor is littered in clothes, condom wrappers and other garbage I don’t have the time to deal with right now. I’ll call some cleaners and have them come in while I’m at work.
I grab a pair of boxers from the dresser and step into them as I walk into the bathroom and reach for my toothbrush to scrub the taste of pussy and champagne from my mouth.
I fucking love my life.
NINE
Davis
“Hey Davis,” Rowan says quietly as I walk into the office. She extends her hand to offer me an energy drink. “I figured you would probably need a little more than coffee this morning.”
I crack open the can, flinching at the hiss that comes out of it before I bring it to my mouth and chug the bitter, horribly-flavored caffeine and who gives a shit what else. I silently nod my thanks to her and trudge through the hall, hoping no one will stop me for conversation until I get to the darkness of my own office.
I shouldn’t have had so much to drink last night; I knew today was going to be an obnoxious day, but I was having fun. It’s fine. I can manage, I’ve been through the same meeting at least fifty times before, probably hungover at least once or twice somewhere in there.
All that’s going to happen is the usual biweekly meeting with Nash Montgomery – he’ll waltz into the conference room, swing his dick around and make a big show of being the big man he thinks he is, then he’ll leave like nothing happened, because nothing will have happened. The man’s a real revolving son of a bitch.
Sitting across from Nash, I’m reminded once again of how much I hate him. He brought backup – because of course he did – and the three of them sit together in a row.
“Explain to me again what your problem is?” Colt asks him, and I pinch my brow.
“The problem,” Nash explains, “is that you’re trying to step into my territory, Fowler.”
Oh, be serious. The man owns a handful of nightclubs and thinks he owns the fucking world because of it. Does he give this speech to everyone who opens an establishment that has its lights on past ten, or do we just intimidate him that much?
It’s nice to have fans, I guess.
“Oh? We weren’t aware that you held a monopoly over the nightlife of the city,” Colt muses.
“I own half of the clubs in this city, and I own everyone in them,” he says. “If you continue this little project of yours—”
I laugh, bracing my palms on the table as I stand from my chair. “Threats? Really, Nash? Is that how you want to do this?”
