DREW

Fuck, this is dangerous.

Charlee hasn’t noticed me yet so I’m watching as she sits on a barstool talking animatedly to some hipster douchebag. She’s wearing the same little black dress that she wore to my sister’s engagement party. I’ve had many fantasies about that damn dress over the last three months. Lifting it just enough to fit my face between her thighs... its straps falling off her shoulders as I’m taking her up against a wall...pulling it over her head and throwing it on my bedroom floor. You name it, I’ve probably jerked off to it. And now that I’ve actually seen her nearly naked body? The real thing is even better than I imagined, bringing my fantasies to a whole other level. Damn it, I’m getting hard just thinking about it.

Down, boy.

Right before I split up with the guys, Brody felt the need to remind me again to stay away from his sister. I know it’s the honorable thing to do. It’s the safe thing to do. But when I look at Charlee—or hell, even think about her—playing it safe is the last thing I want to do. And c’mon, we’re in Vegas! You’re supposed to do crazy shit.

She finally sees me out of the corner of her eye and immediately jumps out of her seat. “Drew! You’re here!” She turns back to the douche. “My friend is here now. Thanks for the drink.”

The guy’s face falls when he looks over his shoulder and sees me. I puff my chest out and give him the stare down. Yeah, that’s right buddy, she’s mine. Wait a second...I mean she’s with me. Not with me, with me, but...oh fuck it, you know what I meant. However you want to look at it, she’s spending the evening with me so fuck off, dude.

Charlee practically skips to where I’m standing and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her chest against mine. Why does she have to be so handsy all the damn time? And smell so fucking edible? Is she trying to make this harder?

See what I did there?

She squeezes me tighter and I’m pretty sure those are her nipples poking me in the chest. I recite baseball stats in my head to distract my dick.

Nice try, but it’s not going to work, my dick says.

Asshole.

“Hi,” she says in a breathy voice. “You ready to have some fun?”

I groan as I pull out of her embrace, my eyes automatically falling to her tits. Yep, those were definitely her nipples rubbing up against me. As I make my way to her face, I see that her eyes are a little glassy and her cheeks are flushed. Shit, is she drunk?

“How many drinks have you had, Charlee?”

She rolls her eyes. “All day? I don’t know. Here? Three. But I’m fine—I’ve been drinking water and eating all day. Aaaaand, I can hold my liquor. How many drinks have you had?”

“A lot.” I shrug. “But I’m a helluva lot bigger than you are.”

She eyes me appreciatively and starts rubbing her palm against my chest. “You sure are.”

I grab her hand when she gets a little too far south and clasp our fingers together. “So, it’s just you and me, huh?”

She smiles as she swings our linked hands. “Yep. What should we do first?”

I lead her out of the bar until we’re standing to the side of the casino floor. “Do you play poker?”

“I know how...but I’m not really in the mood for it.”

“What are you in the mood for?”

She squeezes my fingers and gives me a saucy smile. Damn it, bad choice of words. “Hmm...well, we’re in Vegas and the night is young.”

She taps her red lips with her free hand, drawing my attention to her mouth. God, what I wouldn’t give to slide my cock into that thing. Seeing her lipstick all over my shaft as she bobs up and down.

“Drew? Did you hear me?”

“Huh?”

Charlee laughs. “You know what? Let’s make it a surprise.” She pulls her hand from mine to dig her phone out of her little purse. She fiddles with it for a minute then shoves it back into her bag. Grabbing my hand, she says, “C’mon.”

She leads me toward the front of the hotel. “Where are we going?”

“I ordered an Uber. It should be here by the time we get up there.”

“We can’t just walk?”

She shakes her head. “Nope. It’s off the Strip, but not too far away.”

“And where are we going exactly?”

“It’s a surprise.”

I should probably be concerned with the suggestive way she said that but I decide to go with it.

She points to a black Prius when we get outside. “There it is.”

We make our way to the car and squeeze into the back seat. And I really do mean squeeze. I have to angle my legs toward the middle to fit and Charlee’s pressed against the door. Her eyes dance with excitement as the driver takes us to wherever we’re going. Neon lights flash through the window, lighting up her beautiful face in a kaleidoscope of colors. Her smile is so big, I can’t help but return it. We’re just grinning at each other like fools, not saying a word, as we roll down the streets of Vegas. I find myself disappointed that I have to take my eyes off of her when we reach our destination. I haven’t been paying attention to where we were going so I’m more than a little shocked when I see where we’ve landed. A giant building with brick pillars stands before us, its blue sign flashing like a beacon to my boner.

My eyes are probably bugging out of my head. “You brought me to a strip club?”

“Yep,” she says with a pop. “You like?”

“Holy shit, do you want to get married after this? Because I’m pretty sure you’re the most perfect woman ever.”

Charlee laughs. “Get out of the car, Drew. Let’s go see some giant titties.”

I try tamping down my excitement but I’m practically vibrating from it. Yes, I’ve been to strip clubs before—many, in fact—but this is one of Vegas’s best clubs and I have the hottest woman I’ve ever known by my side. I know couples do this all the time but I’ve never personally dated someone that would be cool with it. Not that Charlee and I are dating, mind you, but you get the point. The fact that she’s here, encouraging me to have a good time, is a huge fucking turn-on. HUGE.

Ladies, let me pause and give you a little unsolicited advice. You should take your man to a strip club one night. I can pretty much guarantee the evening will end in mind-blowing sex with your husband, boyfriend, fuck buddy, whatever he is. And if you’re worried about being compared to the gorgeous blonde on your lap, don’t. Only a true asshole would do that and if he’s that much of a prick, you should dump his ass because you deserve better. Also?

He’s going home with you.

Because he wants to be with you.

Your significant other doesn’t visit a strip club because he’s not attracted to you. Odds are, he finds you sexy as fuck—better than any of the girls grinding on a pole. But here’s the thing: Men are visual creatures. If a straight dude says he doesn’t want to see naked ladies, he’s a fucking liar. There’s no better ocular candy in existence than a little T and A. Beyond the skin though, there’s the fantasy element of a strip joint; it’s dripping with sex—another thing dudes love. We go for the atmosphere, if you will. And maybe the steak.

You think I’m feeding you a bunch of bullshit? Try it sometime and prove me right.

“Have fun,” our driver says as we exit the vehicle.

Yeah...I don’t think that’s going to be a problem, buddy.