“No, you guys were fantastic,” one of the women from the VIP lounge says, giving a seductive smile.
“It was Clara. She just can’t have fun and it brought the room down.”
“I don’t think she brought the room down at all,” Damien says, always the advocate.
“I agree. Your room was the best room we’ve ever had the pleasure of dancing in. Your VIP lounge will go down in history as our favorite room,” Axel says, laying on the charm. He might hate being an erotic dancer, but he sure knows how to lay on the charm when the need arises. And at the moment the need is arising.
“You really think so?” Maureen runs her pink-tipped finger up and down the front of Axel’s tight-fitted shirt. “I really wanted to go out with a bang.”
Her double entendre is so obvious it’s ridiculous. Axel hides his laugh by covering his face. This is the part I agree with Axel about. It’s fun hunting the women who warm my bed for the night, but when they do the same joke, the same pick up line, it sours the stomach.
The intriguing ones are the ones who have imagination. The ones who invent fun ways to get my attention. They’re the girls who get a piece of at least one of the Trifecta. And now apparently the girl who didn’t want anything to do with me is the most intriguing of all.
When Clara refused to drink from my abs I wanted nothing more than to see her beg for it. She refused to join in on the VIP fun and I wasn’t sure if it was all because of her bitchy sister. She didn’t have the lust in her eyes like all the other women who came into the club.
I want to put it there.
I want her to look at me as I push inside of her.
I need her to want me.
Our eyes meet as Maureen continues gushing all over Axel and Damien. Clara appears drunk. Very drunk.
“It’s fine. I just want to go home.” The request comes from a heavily intoxicated Clara. She leans against the Hummer, her already pale face leached of even more color. “I’m sorry I ruined your bachelorette party.”
“You didn’t ruin her party,” I say, putting my arm around her. I know she’s drunk by the fact she allows me to hold her without fighting. In fact she does the opposite and leans into me. All of her luscious curves pressing against me make it hard for me to concentrate.
“Well, she’s certainly ruining the after party.” Maureen’s pout has me wanting to walk away.
“Sorry, girls, we don’t do after parties. The night stopped after the three hours. We need to get home. Beauty sleep and such.” I flash them a smile and grip Clara harder.
Maureen rolls her eyes. “Whatever, come on girls let’s go find another after party. Clara can call an Uber.”
“Are you really leaving her here to get her own way home?” I ask.
“She wouldn’t want to keep partying anyway. Believe me she’s wanted to get out of this party since before she put on her boring ass red dress.”
“We’ll take her home,” I say, looking at my brothers to gauge their feelings on the idea. I know they said no women tonight, but I’m hoping they’ll give me an exception. Besides it’s still early and we can drop her off, make sure she’s safe and still have time to go home to celebrate.
What’s a little detour?
“Whatever.” Maureen cocks her head and the girls pile into the back of the Hummer.
Not one of them appears worried they’re leaving one of their own with a group of men they just met. We watch as they pull out of the parking lot, the bass bumping and their giddy screams drifting out into the night sky.
I glance down at Clara who’s still leaning on me not bothering to hold up her own body weight.
“Where do you live?” I ask, shaking her a little to get her coherent enough to get her address.
Her face tilts up toward me, her blue eyes glassy and unfocused. She opens her mouth and I lean in to capture her words, but then she turns and pukes on the pavement.
“Not only did she turn you down. You made her physically sick,” Damien says, laughing with my brother as I keep Clara on her feet.
“Shut up,” I say, not turning to see my idiot brother’s enjoyment.
When her body stops shaking, I attempt to get her address from her one more time. Her eyes slide over to the side as I ask where she lives. “I don’t remember,” she whispers, before passing out in my arms.
“What the hell are we going to do?” I ask as my brothers stop laughing. It’s not so funny now that they understand the gravity of the situation.
“We get her address from her ID and take her home,” Axel says, glancing around to find her purse.
“I don’t think she has her purse with her,” I say.
“Those bitches left her and took her purse with them.” Damien glares in the direction they drove off to.
“We’ll take her home and let her sleep it off. At least we’ll know she’s safe at our place. And it’s not like we can’t celebrate, she’s passed out.” I swing her into my arms, her body going limp.
Axel and Damien exchange looks but I don’t wait for them to agree. They’ll figure out my solution is the only one we have soon enough. I get to the Range Rover seconds before Axel opens the door and I climb in the back with Clara still in my arms.
I lean my head against the window as Damien drives us home. My laugh gets both of my brother’s attention. They give me a questioning look and I watch Clara’s head bounce as the car moves over the asphalt.
“Out of all the scenarios of how I thought this night would end, I can honestly say this wasn’t even on my radar.”
I brace Clara’s head against my shoulder and smile. This curvy woman hasn’t done any of the things I expected since the moment I saw her.
Chapter 5
Clara
I’m dying. And it can’t come soon enough.
My mind wanders, attempting to piece together the reason I feel like I’m about to meet my maker.
Was I run over?
Tortured?
Kidnapped?
Perhaps all three?
My head hurts from internally asking those questions, so I give it a rest. I groan as pain splits through my head causing light to brighten the inside of my eyelids.
“Here take these,” a voice says into my ear. Instead of wanting to cringe away from the noise I want to crawl closer to it. It’s soothing, and doesn’t hurt like my own inner voice does. A warm hand grabs mine and puts something small in it, but I don’t move, not understanding what I’m supposed to do.
“They’re pain pills. Take them now and you won’t feel so bad after a couple more hours of sleep,” the calming voice says even closer to my ear now.
I still don’t move, my body not responding to any of my orders. My body’s broken. It feels like my spine has been severed and my brain is no longer communicating with the rest of me. The only thing they have in common is they’re both working together to put me in extreme pain at the moment.
Am I awake?
When the voice understands I have no control over myself, it takes the pills out of my hand. “Open up.”
My mouth opens and the bitter pills land on my tongue. It appears as if my body refuses to listen to me, but has no problem listening to the comforting voice. And at this moment, I don’t mind at all. Something hard presses against my lips and I wait for more orders.