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but this…this is a smal room painted entirely black with a

smal stage in the center, a single, silver pole rising to the

smal stage in the center, a single, silver pole rising to the

ceiling. A couple smal tables and a couch I don't want to

sit on ring the stage. There's no music. There's nobody.

Until the curtain at the back of the room parts and a young

guy about my age comes out. He's got a sheaf of blond

hair, fuck, like Austin, and the same build. But I lift my chin

and act like I don't care. I don't care. I don't.

He's not alone. He has another guy with him. And

believe me, they are not the Chippendales. The music

starts, the heavy bass thumpa-thumpa of some club

song I don't really know. The boys, dressed in dark

slacks and white shirts, ties, start to dance.

Holy fucking shit.

I glance at Nat, whose eyes are wide. I look at Tori,

who's grinning from ear to ear. Laurie puts her hand

over her face and peeks through her fingers.

They dance.

I've never seen anything like it. I was expecting some sort

of choreographed dance routine, some cheesy costumes.

But not this. This is…I am…

Wow.

The taler, dark-haired guy strips out of his white shirt,

takes off his cap and shakes his hair over one eye. He

grins, fingers going to the white tie and slipping it loose

from its knot. The blond's made his way around the room,

which has filed with curious, giggling and hooting women

and a few silent men. The dark-haired one, though, he

turns on one foot and tosses his tie directly at me.

I know him.

Oh, shit, I know him. It's Jack, that guy Kira was so

fucking crazy for. He's taler now, and his hair's longer,

and oh, shit, shit, he's coming over to me with a look on

his face that says he knows me, too. His fingers tug the

buttons free on his white shirt and he slides it open to show

off a lean chest and bely.

He's got his nipple pierced and tattoos al over his arm. He

tilts his head and gives me a grin that sends a lightning bolt

right to my pussy, and I wish I could pretend it didn't, but

there's no hiding it. He has to see it, the way my mouth

opens and my tongue slides over my lips.

More guys come out of the back and dolar bils are flying

left and right, but al I can see is this one guy. This one

grinding in front of me, taking off his shirt, undoing his belt,

sliding the pants down over his thighs. I want to cover my

face, afraid he's bare assed, but he clearly knows the

benefit of anticipation and puls his pants up again, leaving

the zipper undone to show dark briefs beneath.