I think I’m scarred for life.
After that he sits her back down in thechair. It looks like she’s just smoked up, she’s so starry eyed.Then he rips off his mask and starts again with the intensehumping; his crotch right in her face.Good lord.
He’s not bad looking with his bald head, biglight eyes and a really nice smile. Like, really nice. Almostendearing, which is weird.
Then he does something that actuallyimpresses me. Somehow, he gets his feet over her head, plantingthem against the back wall of the stage, his ass facing the crowdand humps her from upside down. For a guy who’s tall, bulky andmuscled, he’s limber, I’ll give him that. Then he kicks himselfdown and pulls Holly to her feet. He picks out all the dollar billswith his teeth, and then plants a huge kiss on her cheek. She was adamn good sport. I would have bolted the moment I saw him walkingmy way. Given you could actually pay me enough to get up on thatstage in the first place.
Now it’s Emily’s turn.
“Okay ladies,” the charming Hugo announces.“You’re in for a real treat,” he says as Jill, Beth, Liz, Jen and Idress Emily in dollar bills. She’s by far the sexiest and mosttrendily dressed girl in the room. She has on a tight black bodysuit that’s short sleeved and high collared. A flared mini skirtand a pair of black stockings that give the illusion of thighhighs; hooch couture is what I call it. With her tiny little frameshe rocks the outfit perfectly. We were able to get twice as manydollar bills on Emily compared to the other girls. Even her blackbootie high heels have Washington’s sticking out of them. She lookslike a scarecrow stuffed with green straw.
“Next up is one of our premier dancers. Soget ready, set, wet for Jack the Stripper!” he says as he hops offthe stage.
The beginning beats of Ginuwine’sPonyblasts through the speakers as a shirtless guy with a cowboy hatand eye mask grooves his way out of the black door. Now him I couldbe into. He’s tall and lean, totally toned, with sun kissed skinand a hot looking mouth. Emily got lucky with this one, thank God.I watch as he dances to the stage in a pair of loose fitting bluejeans with rips in the thighs and knees, the elastic of hisunderwear peeking above the waist of his pants. As soon as Emilysees him, a big smile spreads across her face and I breathe a sighof relief. She’s into him. And seriously, who wouldn’t be?
The melody changes to a house rendition ofAs Long As You Love Meand Jack the Stripper movesseductively to the beat of the music, grinding sensually on Emily;his fluid body undulating all over her. I’ll admit, I’ve neverequated Justin Bieber to stripper music, but this guy makes itwork, and damn can he move. My mouth is getting dry just watchingthis. The entire room is responding to him; pleasured screams anderotic moans are echoing from every which way as he works Emily onstage. No wonder Hugo called him premier; it’s as if he knowsexactly what a woman wants and exactly how to give it to her. He’salready broken down the entire room with just his confidence andsexuality. That’s impressive.
In the middle of his dance, with his hat andeye mask still on, he lifts Emily’s chair, with her still in it,and flips her up and around, inducing screams and shouts from theaudience. With a big smile he places her back down, and then startsto undo his pants, teasing her and us with glimpses of his ass.Before he drops his jeans he rips off his hat and flings it intothe crowd revealing thick, brown hair that’s short on the sides andlonger on top; his bangs spilling over his forehead hipster style.Hot.Then he kneels in front of Emily, only his side profilevisible. He whispers something into her ear, she glances at himoddly then slides two fingers under his eye mask; she rips it offand turns white. I can’t really see his face from my angle, butwhoever he is, he spooked her. They both seem to freeze for afraction of a second; his back muscles tensing. What the hell isgoing on? Then she nods her head yes, as if encouraging him on. Hestands up, faces the crowed and proceeds to take off his pants.That’s when my heart drops dead in my chest. I glance at Emily andshe’s staring straight at me, a manifold of emotions churning onher face because we both just witnessed my past strip to life.
I’m no longerinside a New York City nightclub.
I’ve been transported back five years to thesummer of my freshman year of college. It’s early June and I’d justturned eighteen. Emily and I spent every day at the Ocean Club, abeach club on the Jersey Shore both our families have belonged tofor years. It had all the amenities - private cabanas, pools, spas,tennis courts, and an all access pass to the beach. We also spentevery night partying. It was the best summer of my life. New Jerseyhas an ‘eighteen to party twenty-one to drink law’ which meantEmily could drag me to almost any nightclub she wanted. She’s fouryears older than me and more like a big sister than a cousin, andshe made sure that just because I lived under my father’s roofdidn’t mean I always had to abide by his rules. Emily was my savinggrace growing up. On the outside I was - still am, actually - thegood girl, the polite girl, the girl who doesn’t break any rules,but on the inside I’m restless.
Our favorite hangout was TradeWinds, a danceclub right on the beach. One big room with high ceilings, darkcarpets, panoramic windows and an awesome DJ; it was a place whereall walks of life mingled; where spoiled rich girls and privilegedfirstborns meshed with your average Joe. No one really cared aboutyour social status as long as you weren’t flaunting it in anyone’sface. You were just there to have a good time. And have a good timewe did. I had only just broken my late-night debauchery cherry whenI met Ryan. It was accidental really. I was outside on the patiosmoking a cigarette when some drunken girl bumped into me, slammingme right into him. I ended up burning a hole through his t-shirtand singeing his chest. After apologizing profusely I offered tobuy him a new shirt. He said he’d rather if I bought him a drinkinstead. I laughed and held up my wrist, “Coke or Sprite?”
I was only eighteen and everyone knew youwere underage if you weren’t sporting a neon wristband. It was sortof history after that. It wasn’t easy at first though, we fought alot. And I don’t mean screaming matches, break-up make-up kind offights. I mean he fought to open me up emotionally and I foughtlike hell to stay closed off. But Ryan, he was different; he waseverything my world wasn’t. He was warm and caring and energetic.And he was the realest thing in my entire life. I can still feelthe emotions he stirred inside me. I’m reliving them right now as Iwatch him drop his pants in front of thirty screamingstrangers.
Our relationship was short, but it wasintense and physical and borderline obsessive. And I was head overheels, undyingly in love with him.
Was, is, still - maybe?
It’s like I’m caught in some weird time loop.I see Ryan in the present while simultaneously flashing back to thepast. I remember our last night together. It was a hot Augustevening, and we were alone in my family’s cabana. It was the onlyplace we could steal time away with each other. My father nevercame to the beach club, unless it was for tennis in the morning,and he was usually off doing whatever it is judges do, so it wasbasically my home away from home. My solace place. It was amodest-sized room, decorated in creams and whites and oranges,giving it a very beachy feel. With a flat screen on the wall, astall shower, a wet bar and an extra wide couch that could doublefor a bed I didn’t need much more. The ocean being sixty yards awaydidn’t hurt either. You could hear the surf crashing against theshore and smell the salty air as it wafted through the tinywindows. There were candles lit all over the small room casting aromantic glow. Ryan and I were just about naked and so close to theedge. My body was pulsing for him and every touch felt magnified.But for some reason, he was hesitant.
“What’s wrong?” I remember asking him betweenkisses.
“Nothing,” he told me, while running histhumb down my cheek; his eyes shining from the flickering candles.“This is your first time, I just want it to be perfect.”
I couldn’t help but smile, “It will be, it’swith you.”
And that was all it took.
After one, slow, torrid kiss he was movinginside me. It was the most concentrated, scorching hot moment of mylife. But that was the only time I would experience such afeeling.
My body still throbs when I think about itand it’s been five years. Five years since I’ve seen him last,since he disappeared into thin air only to materialize here.
Here, of all places.
“Alana!” Emily pulls on my arm. “Are youokay? Do you know who that was?” she asks frantically. I shift myeyes to look at her and catch a glimpse of Ryan disappearing intothat black, camouflaged door.
“Yes,” I answer vacantly, before I realize mybody is on a mission. I take ten steps and burst into that littleroom, four heads swing in my direction. Someone yells at me to getout, but I can’t. All I can mutter is “Ryan?” as I stand there likean idiot, gawking at him. He doesn’t say a word as our eyes meet.Those dark blue, cobalt eyes that tell me my presence has rockedhis world like a magnitude 7 earthquake.
Then I turn around and bolt, out the backdoor and up the stairs two at a time towards the street. I thinkI’m going to be sick. I make it to the sidewalk then disappear downthe first alley I find and lose my dinner right beside a foulsmelling dumpster.
Oh God.
I wrap my arms around myself and bump my headagainst the brick wall.This cannot be happening. This cannot behappening.
Suddenly I hear someone yelling my name. Ilook over to see Ryan on the sidewalk, he has a small towel wrappedaround his waist and a pair of sneakers on his feet and that’sit.