There were so many hot women up in here. From the sad-eyed, impatient-looking chicks who had to wait in line because they didn’t have a connection to let them in ahead of all the rest of the poor saps, to the cocktail waitresses dancing on the bar to the bachelorette party attenders shaking their asses on the dance floor in celebration of their BFF’s final night of freedom, I couldn’t even keep up with the number of amazingly stunning women all around me. This was my perfect idea of a Friday night.

The White Room was the kind of night club the who’s who of Miami went to. Situated in Mid-Beach, the glamorous club was part of the Fontainebleau Hotel and a hot spot for famous folk and VIP regulars. I went there all the time. If I was going to get wasted, I was going to do it in style.

Did it cost a lot of money? Hell yeah. But as the Safety for the Miami Dolphins Football team— at least, when my ass wasn’t suspended— I had enough cash to get fucked-off-my-face drunk without blinking at my bill at the end of the night.

The venue, the service, and the music was the shit, and that’s why hot women from all over came to the club. If there was anything that made me a happy man, it was a woman in a dress that left very little to the imagination.

Tonight, the club was packed. It consisted of a huge dance floor with banquet booths on the bottom floor, stairs that descended from the doors so you could scope out whoever came in, and sky boxes on the second floor that looked out over the dance floor. Sky boxes were reserved for VIPs like us, so that’s where we were hanging out tonight, just like all the other nights we came here.

I leaned on the chrome railing and looked out over the crowd with a glass of expensive whiskey in my hand. The music throbbed like a racing pulse, and bodies writhed to the beat. The air smelled of sweat and lust, an intoxicating combination.

“Man, it’s good to kick back,” Brian said, splayed out on one of the white leather couches. “I swear that last game fucked me up. I’m aching all over.”

“Is your face hurting?” I couldn’t help the smirk lifting my lip. I loved dicking around with Brian. He was too easy sometimes.

“Fuck you too.” He rolled his eyes and chuckled. “My face is not hurting, and it’s not killing you. All these women around here are looking at me, idiot. You know this.”

I shrugged and sipped my whiskey. He was an idiot, but I would keep him around. I turned a little as my back ached. He was bent over thanks to the last game; I was just sore from a shitty night of sleep. 

Getting hurt in the game was an occupational hazard. Brian McMurry was the Running Back for the Dolphins. He was good at what he did and a fan favorite. He was also my best friend. We had played for the Hurricanes together before we’d been selected for the team, and if there was anyone I would turn to in a crisis, it was Brian.

“How long until you’re back in action?” Brian asked. “You must be losing your shit not playing for so long.”

I nodded. “Losing my shit” was an accurate description. Not playing drove me crazy, but I had to deal with it. Life was all about the choices you made.

“Two more games,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “Then I’m back.”

I turned toward Brian and sat down, too. Brian sipped a glass of soda water like a teetotaler. He had training in the morning. The Dolphins started at six, and we had to “Focus-Listen-Learn,” as the signage above the door to the training facility reminded us. It was hard to do that when you had so much alcohol in your system the world spun when you stood still.

I would know. While I was off, though, I could drink as much as I wanted to, but that wasn’t much of a benefit, considering the serious trouble I was in with the team.

Being suspended wasn’t a joke. I would rather play and be sober most of the time than wasted and watching my team on television.

“Thanks for saving my ass,” Brian said. “You know, for taking the fall.”

I waved my hand dismissively. “Don’t sweat it. Really.”

Brian nodded, but I could see the tightness in his shoulders. He didn’t want anyone doing anything for him. We were the same in that way.

“You’re talking to Coach on Wednesday?” he asked.

I nodded. Wednesday was the day Coach had asked me to come in to talk about my public image. My suspension for driving under the influence had been tacked on to the bottom of a whole list of infractions, mostly to do with women. I had to clean my act up a little if I wanted to show my face in public again.

I wasn’t looking forward to it. I understood my suspension. I made my choice on that, and I would live with the consequences. But I didn’t want to give up the women. Being with whoever I wanted, whenever I wanted, didn’t affect my game. In fact, I had a theory that the more sexually satisfied I was, the better I played. It was an opinion that Coach didn’t share.

Coach Rudi Thompson was the kind of man that put everything into his players. The game was as important to us as it was to him. He lived vicariously through us, being unable to play anymore himself.

“When you talk to Coach, remember where he’s coming from,” Brian said.

His mind had evidently been on the same train of thought as mine.

I shook my head. “I know what you’re going to say, and I don’t want to hear it,” I said. “It’s not Wednesday yet, and we’re here to have fun. Remember? Quit thinking about football for a minute. I’m going to go down there and find us each a girl.”

Brian chuckled. “I’m not going to stick around long enough for that.”

I shook my head. “Don’t be a dick. I know you want to get some tonight. It’s the best remedy for aching bones.”

Brian shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a proven medical fact.”

I laughed and left the sky box, making my way to the dance floor. I shimmied up against a couple of girls, leaning in close so they could hear me over the music. Scantily clad bodies rubbed up against me, the music pulsed in my veins, and I wanted to get good and horizontal with one of them tonight.

Even if we stayed vertical, like up against a wall or something, it would do.

Two women were eager to come back with me. I only had to mention the words “sky box” and “single friend,” and they were good to go. They knew I looked familiar. Most girls didn’t really do football. But those magic words were enough for them.

“Brian,” I said, walking into the box with my find. “This is Carina and Sacha. Ladies, meet my friend, Brian.”

I sat down, and the brunette, Carina, joined me. Sacha was a platinum blonde and parked herself next to Brian.

“Evening, ladies,” Brian said, glancing at me with a grin. I knew what he was thinking: I knew just how to pick them, and not in a bad way.

The women were eager. Carina pressed herself up against me so I felt her body, slender with huge tits that couldn’t be real. I preferred natural breasts and some meat on their bones but Carina was hot and I wouldn't throw her out of bed— or off the wall, or wherever it was we'd end up having sex tonight.

Brian’s hot date was doing something similar, pressing herself so close to him that she couldn’t get any closer, short of climbing onto his lap. I put my hand on Carina’s bare leg. Her skirt was so short it was more like a long shirt.

“What do you say we go to a room?” I asked Carina. Her mouth was on my neck, riling me up. I looked toward Brian, who was still just talking to Sacha. “I’m sure there’s a room next door you can use, Brian.”

Brian shook his head and leaned forward to put down his glass. He peeled himself away from Sacha.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, guys, but I have to get going. I have training in the morning.” He got up and lifted his hands to the air, forcing the girl back further.

“Can’t you stay just a little longer?” Sacha asked. She scissored her legs together and leaned back, pushing out her chest. She wanted it bad.

I got up and ran my hand over my chest as I eyeballed her. She was something to look at, but most of the women who hung out around us were. Too bad they were female players just like we were male players.

In fact, judging from the eager way they came with me and took me up on my threesome offer, I was pretty sure they played the field just as much as I did. Not that I was complaining. I wasn’t looking to take a knee for proposal reasons, or hand out a ring, anytime soon.

“Come on,” I said to Brian. “You’re going to leave me when it really counts? Some teammate you are.”

The girls laughed.

“I’m sure you can handle it,” Brian said and winked at me. “I’ll talk to you later.”

I gave Brian a look.

“You’re a swell friend, you know that?” I was being sarcastic, not that he couldn’t tell by the tone of my voice. Asshat.

Brian laughed and clapped me on the shoulder before he left the box, shaking his head. I sighed and turned to the women. Sacha was pouting on the couch.

“Do you still want to go to that room?” Carina asked in a seductive voice, sashaying toward me.

I nodded, putting my hand on the small of her back and sliding it down to her ass.

Then a thought crossed my mind. I wasn't sure either one of them would go for it, but that's never stopped me from asking. I'd always been a risk taker. And, as the old sports phrase goes, you miss one hundred percent of the shots you don't try.

“Come with us, Sacha,” I said, smiling. “No reason for you to stay alone here and miss out on the fun.”

She glanced at her friend, lips parted, eyes questioning. She knew what I was suggesting. Carina put her arm around my neck, pressing the length of her body against mine.

“Yeah, join us,” she said.

Score.

That was why it never hurt to go after what you wanted in life. And I had always been a man who lived by that philosophy.