I wonder if Laney would actually be up for that? I fantasize how killer she would look in a shiny G-string and nothing else. Under fluorescent lights giving me a lap dance.
Blood flows like a raging river to the head of my cock. Thank God I go home tomorrow.
I’m sure the last few weeks have been complete hell for Laney. I wasn’t easy to deal with. I’ve been withdrawn, depressed and moody, but she never let her frustration show. She was just supportive. She gave me my space and was there when I needed her. I’m a total fucking dick. I was taking for granted all the great things I have in my life. I lost a football game. Not my career, or a friend, or a loved one.
I’m pretty damn blessed, and I lost sight of that for a minute.
Things are coming back into focus now, and I owe Laney something big. Some jewelry, a vacation, maybe l’ll surprise her with a dream honeymoon. Tahiti is first on her wish list. Laney isn’t one for expensive gifts. She likes simple things, but a woman as amazing as her, a woman who puts up with loving me and deals with the craziness of my life, deserves to get spoiled once in a while. And I have no problem spoiling her rotten.
“Yo, Q!” Landon yells with two girls on his arm. The rookie is having a good ol’ time. “These ladies know a twenty-four-hour tattoo place! We’re gonna go get ink. You in?” He sways on his feet a bit.
“Um . . .”
“C’mon, Ellis, don’t be a pussy. Mark yourself already.” Rodney goads me by flexing his sleeved arm. “Don’t you want to look this good?”
I roll my eyes. “I look good, inked or not.”
“Bet Laney would like it.” Rodney hits me in my soft spot.
“Maybe,” I ponder, draining my beer.
“So, let’s go!” Landon howls, grabbing each of the girls’ ass cheeks. He’s on the road to a threesome, I call it right now.
We settle our tab while a few of the girls change before heading out of the club. It’s like three a.m., and the effects of the alcohol are still going strong. When we walk out the front door, we’re bombarded by camera flashes. Word must have gotten out about the pro football players partying it up. Shielding our faces and the girls from the paparazzi, we escape into the waiting limo.
Echoing laughs and giggles fill the stretch Lex as we pull away. One of the guy’s sitting next to me rolls down the window to give the paparazzi the peace sign. Such an instigator.
We’re packed in tight so the body heat index is high and the intoxication is brewing.
Rodney and Landon are completely captivated by their girls as we ride through town. Once we get to the shop, it looks like a clown car piling out. People just don’t stop coming.
Inside the large parlor, neon lights glow, the sound of needles buzz, and the low hum of drunk athletes fills the space. The walls are covered with miles and miles of colorful art. Templates to choose from or ideas to gain inspiration.
Some of this stuff is really detailed.
“So, what are you thinking, Q?” Telly slaps me on the back. “Some tribal? Football number? Zodiac sign?” He snaps. “Passing record?”
All commendable recommendations, but none I’m interested in at the moment.
“I have something else in mind.” I take a closer look at some text and smile.
