Axel

Signaling the bartender, I order three shots of tequila and tell him to keep them coming, pointing over at Greg I say, “He’s paying.”



Greg shakes his head but pulls out his wallet and hands his credit card over to the bartender to start a tab.



“Bottoms up, bitches.” I say, quickly downing all three shots.



We spent about an hour at the bar, just taking in the atmosphere and the general vibe of the place. Well, Dee and Greg might have been taking it all in, but I was too busy keeping my drinks flowing. Dee was keeping my pace, but she isn’t on the same mission I am. Her goal is fun and mine is to become numb.



I had just stolen her second Jack and Coke the bartender put down before she could drink it. I look at her, smirk and down it.



“Seriously, Iz…you can’t even pretend to share?” She has a small frown on her face. She knows what I’m doing and she isn’t happy about it but being the friend she is, means she will stand by my side and catch me when I fall.



I had just ordered us a round of Tight Snatches, vodka, peach schnapps, orange and cranberry juice, when I catch their eyes on me. At first, I thought they were reacting to my decision to only order off the wall drinks but when I looked closer, I saw it; the concern, the worry, and the uncertainty on how to proceed.



I picked up my drink and announced, “Alright, let’s fucking party! You’re only thirty once, whoooohoooo!” I’m screaming; why am I screaming again? Giggling, I look up at Greg, catching his eye as he looks down at me with his stoic face, shaking his head and accepting that his friend is well and truly sloshed. I can see his lip twitching, trying so hard to remain the untouchable body guard.



The hell with this.



Laughing even harder, I grab their hands and drag them out to the middle of the dance floor. Belatedly, I notice how much easier it is to walk on these sticks when you can’t feel your legs. Lesson number one for hooch wear, be drunk. It might make dancing more of a challenge, but I wasn’t feeling a thing and it was beautiful.



The song changes to the familiar beats of Macklemore & Ryan Lewis’ ‘Can’t Hold Us’. It fills my ears and pounds into my bones. Throwing my arms up, I turn around and look up at Greg, who is still trying his hardest not to laugh. I let the music take over my body, invade my muscles and penetrate my soul with the pulsing rhythm. I can feel Greg behind me now, unmoving, nothing different there. Dee is moving right along with me, just as enthralled with the music as I am. She looks over at me with a knowing smile. I give her the first real smile I have felt all day. She knows how to move, we used to be regulars in the club scene during college…before Brandon that is. With a wink to clue her in to my intentions, I turn around and wrap my arms around Greg’s neck. Even with my heels I have to come way up on the balls of my feet just to reach him. Smiling, I begin to move with his tall frame, not an easy task. His hands finally grab ahold of my hips and dig in. Dee peeks around his from his back and gives me a smirk and we start grinding together. I can feel the rumbles of his voice against my chest when he whispers in my ear, “You’re lucky I love you, baby girl.” I laugh up at him, noticing his expressionless face is finally smiling. He hates dancing but Dee and I have made it a mission, on the rare occasions we go out, to torture him as much as possible. He knew this was coming; it didn’t mean he had to like it. He puts up with this because he wouldn’t dare leave our sides. He knows what kind of trouble the two of us could get into.



When the song ends we head off laughing to the bar, once again, with the excuse to rehydrate. Maybe that’s the case for them but for me it’s all about replenishing the alcohol I just burned off on the dance floor. I can feel my buzz slipping and we can’t have that.



We’ve been at Carnal for a few hours now. The last time I had even attempted to gain the time, the hands on the clock started dancing. I ask Greg, who says it’s a little after 1:30 in the morning; sure we can go with that.



Dee and I have been taking turns ordering the most outrageous drinks we can think of; with the help of our phones and Google of course.



“Gimmie two Golden Showers, bartender!” I scream across the bar. When did someone take my last drink? What was that one? A blow job, I think. Yes, that was it. We spent a good fifteen minutes laughing our asses off after making Greg drink one. He is currently giving us a look of extreme displeasure. He can act as mad as he wants but yelling for Greg to deep throat his blow job was hilarious. Just ask the customers around us, they certainly laughed loud enough.



Even during times like this, when you know he could be doing something better with his time, he wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else. He’s been a constant presence in my life since that day he showed up with Dee. The big brother I never had, always there when I needed him the most. I can tell by the way he keeps looking around the crowd that he has slipped back into that protector mode; it’s almost like he constantly thinks something is out to get him. Or me. I shiver, Brandon isn’t ever far from my thoughts, especially not after the package. I can tell when Greg looks at me like he is afraid I might break at any moment that his thoughts are the same.



Dee’s slurred voice interrupts my thoughts with a high pitched screech. “YO bitch, drink up! I got you one of those pull down pussy things, no…it was the pussy panty pull-down? Fuck.” She spits the word out with so much frustration she almost falls off her stool. She looks over at me and I can see her trying to decide if she is more confused over the correct drink name or how she got to the club to begin with.



“That’s not right, Dee! Greg! Greg, tell her the right pussy! You know pussy, right Greg?” I laugh up at him, tilting my head to the side, wondering why his frown is wobbling.



“You two are driving me fucking crazy. Just because I know my pussy doesn’t mean I know this shit. I eat it and when drinking it down, I damn sure don’t do that out of a fucking glass. For shits sake, get some motherfucking water next time. Fuck me, the right pussy.” He shakes his head at us both. “If you touch one more drink with a fucking pussy in the title, we are gone, got me?”



Well. He thinks he runs this show, does he?



I look over at Dee who is trying hard not to bark out a laugh, holding up my arm I signal the bartender over. Again.



“What’s next my beauties?” Comes his flirty question.



“Well, since pussy is off the allowed list, how about you surprise us. Either a Slow Comfortable Screw or a Screaming Orgasm. Bartenders choice.” I hear Greg’s annoyed curse even over the beating bass surrounding us.



I’m still laughing when Dee screams that our song is on. “Come on Iz, it’s our song, get up let’s go shake it.”



“Every fucking song is your song, Dee.” Greg deadpans.



Laughing I spin around on my heels and run smack dab into a brick wall. Fuck, that hurt.



I put my hands up and try to orientate myself with my surroundings; I focus, or at least try to. Wait a minute, since when do brick walls have heartbeats? There is no way that is normal. What the hell kind of club is this?



I squeeze my hands against the wall, hmm, heated walls. Nice touch, but kind of pointless in a night club if you ask me. I take a small step back and focus the best I can. I look up and up and up a little more, finally my eyes land on two laughing brown eyes. Since when do walls have eyes?



“Whoa there, sugar,” the wall says.



“Huh?” I’m confused as hell.



“Beck, what’s going on brother?” Greg says from behind me. Grabbing my hips and bringing me to his side, he throws that familiar arm over my shoulder. “I see you met my girl, Iz. Izzy this is Beck, one of the boys I was telling you about.”



I can feel the smile in his words. Greg has talked about his “boys” often; I know he thinks of this group as more than friends. After all, when you fight alongside each other for so many years, trusting them with your lives, they become so much more than just people to you. A brotherhood with a bond so tight it is untouchable. I know he is over the moon to finally introduce these men to Dee and me.



I come out of my wall fog long enough to glance up at Beck. He really is one handsome giant. He is at least a few inches over six feet, close to Greg’s height and build. He has such strong features. A nose that looks like he has broken it a time or ten, his chocolate brown eyes are twinkling with humor and have deep laugh lines crinkling the corners. He is obviously a man that smiles often. His brown hair is way overdue for a cut but he makes it work. Really makes it work.



“John Beckett. Heard a lot about you, little lady, it’s nice to finally meet you.” He is holding out his big paw for me to shake. It feels strange shaking his hand after basically being plastered over his body. Awkward.



“Iz…um, Izzy West.” I fumble out.



Dee must have just noticed our new arrival, because right in my ear I hear, “Who in the hot hunk of sex are you?”



Leave it to Dee, she knows what she likes and it looks like she likes Beck. Smiling I turn to look at my friend and oh yes, Dee is in lust heaven right now. I’m shocked she hasn’t started panting and humping his leg.



Turning back to Greg, I notice that two new hunks have joined the party. Since Dee is now busy with Beck, I sit back down and enjoy my drunken happiness. Greg turns, noticing me sitting down and grabs a hold of my hand.



“Baby girl, this is Zeke Cooper and Maddox Locke. Boys, this is Izzy.” He introduces me with a huge smile. I haven’t seen Greg this happy in a long time. I know he has been waiting for this moment; introducing two sets of his ‘family’ to each other. I don’t know much about these men outside the fact that they served with Greg in the Marines. It’s my understanding that they work for the same security company in California; something they started up when they left the Marines. Greg couldn’t wait to merge his company with theirs, turning Cage Investigation and Security into a large scale operation.



“Hey boys, nice to look at cha.” I tell them. Oh my God, did that just come out of my mouth. If their twin smirks are anything to go by, it most certainly did. Shit, does Greg only know hot guys? Both of these two easily top Greg’s six foot three, giants to someone as vertically challenged as me and holy hell they are nice to look at. Talk about easy on the eyes. Both men have bodies meant to be worshipped, long and hard.



Zeke has blonde hair, clipped close to his scalp, eyes so blue that even in the clubs dim lighting they look clear and a blinding full smile with twin dimples on each side. He reminds me of a model straight from Abercrombie. He is the perfect vision of the boy next door.



Maddox is his polar opposite. He has just as many muscles but on him they look huge and imposing. His brown hair is longer than Zeke’s, sporting that messy look like he had been running his hands through it all day; sex hair. His face is hard, but friendly in a weird combination that he just seems to work. But it is his eyes that hold me captive; they are so dark they look black and bottomless.



I realize I have been sitting here eating them up with my eyes when I hear Greg clear his throat. Looking over at him I see the biggest grin on his face. Thinking he is smiling at me, I give him one of my brightest smiles and start to turn around to properly introduce myself to his two friends. I am not exactly making the best first impressions with these men. I open my mouth to speak when I hear Greg booming, yes booming.