“How have I never been here?”
“It’s newish,” Turk said. “Opened about two years ago.”
“Ah.” Right around the time I’d made the stellar decision to leave the state.
“Good evening, gentlemen.” The host stepped out from behind his station. He was on the shorter side, about five feet seven inches, and slim with a snazzy navy-blue suit. Diamonds lined the lapels, twinkling along with the chandelier’s shimmer. “Welcome to Top Shelf.”
“Hey, man,” Jack said. “We have a VIP reservation booked under the last name Hall.”
“Excellent. My name is Luke. I’ll be escorting you to your table, and Raphael here will check your coats.” He gestured toward a beefy bouncer with dark skin, dreadlocks, and a tailored suit that would probably split at the seams if he got into it with an unruly clubgoer.
We took a few minutes to hand over our coats to the man who looked as if he cracked walnuts in his palms.
“Thank you, Raph.” Luke smiled at the bouncer, whose arms were now laden with our coats. “Gentlemen, please follow me.”
Somehow, I ended up in the lead, directly behind Luke. The man had a nice ass and a pretty face, but he wasn’t exactly my type. I preferred a guy more my size or bigger. An equal partner who could match me in the bedroom. Not someone I had to worry about hurting if things turned rough.
Luke guided us to a roped-off walkway leading to the VIP section. As we followed the path, moving bodies on my left caught my attention. The dance floor beckoned like the beating heart of the club. It sprawled beneath a sky-high ceiling, where laser lights cut through artificial smoke, creating an ever-shifting kaleidoscope of color. The polished, obsidian-black flooring reflected the movements of a crowd of men that pulsed like a living organism. Their bodies gleamed under the strobe lights, slick with sweat. Expressions of bliss and lust shone from the faces of men grinding and touching each other to the beatof the music. Most had discarded their shirts, leaving yards of smooth skin on display for eyes and hands to explore.
A state-of-the-art sound system sent basslines rippling through my chest—each beat perfectly calibrated to make it impossible not to move. Along the walls, floor-to-ceiling LED panels displayed surreal visuals—rippling water, blooming flowers, and shifting constellations—all timed to the music.
The bar, an architectural marvel, stretched along one side of the room. Its counter was made of backlit onyx that seemed to glow from within, while liquor bottles were displayed on floating glass shelves that sparkled like jewels. The bartenders were as much performers as servers, wearing only tailored leather aprons on their upper half as they mixed drinks with a theatrical flair, their movements precise and fluid.
My blood began to pump to the music’s beat. With each passing second, a missing piece of myself fell back into place. Fuck, I was young and goddamn loaded. Why was I making shit deeper than it had to be?
“Is this place incredible or what?” Manny yelled in my ear over the music.
My smile spread of its own free will. “Fuck yeah.”
“We’ll be going right over there.” Luck pointed ahead toward the VIP section, tucked away in an elevated corner. It was a hidden sanctuary of exclusivity guarded by a velvet rope and an imposing security guard. The space was designed to feel intimate despite its opulence. Circular booths upholstered in dove-gray suede encircled private tables with flickering candlelight, the soft golden glow complementing the shimmering gold of the room’s walls. Guests reclined against plush cushions while sipping champagne from fluted glasses or swirling aged whiskey in crystal tumblers. A personal host hovered discreetly nearby, ready to fetch anything with a mere glance. From this vantage point, VIP guests could survey the dance floor below, theirelevated position a subtle reminder of their status in this glittering world of decadence.
Men on the dance floor noticed our group of six walking toward the VIP area. Eyes lit with interest, lips were licked, and hungry come-hither gazes were cast.
I loved this shit. What could I say? There wasn’t any point in denying I’d been born with a silver spoon in my mouth and a love of all things luxurious.
“Here we are, gentlemen. Your VIP liaison will be here momentarily. His name is Alex, and he’s ready and willing to cater to your every need.”
Turk whistled.
“Within reason,” Luke added with a wink.
Bullshit, within reason. I’d bet my trust fund ourliaisonwould have no problem servicing us outside the bounds of reason for a hefty tip. This place probably saw more ass than a no-tell motel. It was nearly impossible not to be swept up in the seduction of the décor alone.
“If you desire a more private, more… intimate experience, Alex will be more than happy to pull the curtains for you,” he said, gesturing to a green velvet curtain draped from floor to ceiling.
Manny rubbed his hands together. “If only the thought of fucking one of you guys didn’t make my nuts shrivel.”
We all laughed. “I’m sure you’ll find someone who fits the bill tonight, Manny,” I said.
“True, I ain’t worried about it.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“Now, I am ready for a drink. What did you say our bottle service boy’s name is again?”
“Alex, and here he is right now.”
My pulse went haywire at the first glance of the guy who stepped up next to Luke. I couldn’t have kept from smirking if my life depended on it. Alex Morgan. Who the fuck wouldhave thought stick-up-his-ass Alex Morgan would look like that in a pair of ass-hugging shorts? Jesus, the man had a body that would feel so good sliding all over mine. Tight abs, toned arms, and an absolutely perfect fucking bubble butt, all covered in glitter that made him practically glow. My cock thickened. Thank God for the table to hide the evidence.
“I’ll leave you gentlemen in his capable hands,” Luke added before turning away. He whispered something to Alex, then strode back down the walkway. This time, I wasn’t even tempted to glance at his ass. My attention was fixed on the man who’d hated me from the first moment he laid eyes on me—Alex Morgan. The uber-smart scholarship kid who’d been my lab partner for a six-week summer program after our junior year of high school. He was focused, driven, grumpy as hell, and a royal pain in my ass. He looked down on every one of us like the fact that we came from money was a transmissible disease.
