My Mom's Fiance

CHAPTER ONE

Lacey

I didn’t even know why I said yes to my friends about going out to the bar.

Denise and Jenna, professional freshmen partiers and my best friends, are forever trying to get me to go out with them to one club or another on the weekends. But I usually say no. Don’t get me wrong, I have no problem going to the movies with them or the coffee shop where that tatted and pierced hipster guy works behind the counter. Bars and clubs though, are not my scene.

“Come on, relax and have a drink,” Denise practically screamed over the loud music. She bumped my hip with her own and grinned, already two beers and one shot down the hatch. Her tight tube dress showed off a shape so curvy that a pumpkin would give its right arm to be her.

“More shots!” Jenna danced over from the bar and through the crowd. With a slick smile, she slid a little tray of rainbow colored drinks onto our high top table. Oh no, the rainbow colored ones are always the worst, sure to be filled with the purest alcohol, mixed with only a tiny bit of fruit juice.

But no matter. The music pumped hard and energetic around us and Jenna wiggled her tiny backside to the beat. “The bartender made them just for us,” she called. “They’re special.” Of course, there were at least nine shots on the tray.

She looked over her shoulder and winked at the bartender, a sleazy looking dude in a beanie, with tats on his face. Really? I love tats as much as the next girl, but the one square on his right cheek pretty much eliminated him from most jobs. Sheesh. Shaking my head, I stayed silent. Jenna’s taste in men has always been bizarre.

“Here, Lacey. Your first shot of the night.” Denise shoved the drink towards me and took one for herself. She quickly downed one and then threw her head back with a wild yelp.

“Shit! These are strong.” Another shriek, then another shot. She was going to be so wasted.

“Hell yeah, they’re strong.” Jenna jumped up and down to the dub step beat, blonde hair flying. “My boy totally hooked us up.”

I was cringing and taking sips of my drink, trying to force it down when suddenly Denise grabbed my arm in mid-air. What in the world? These girls always want me to imbibe more, so this was weird.

But her attention was elsewhere, laser-focused and awestruck.

“Oh my God. You won’t believe what I’m looking at.” The brunette already had a third glass in her hand but it hovered near her mouth as she stared at something over my shoulder. “That VIP monster is ridiculous.”

“What?” Jenna turned around so fast I was surprised she didn’t get whiplash.

But I downed my drink and looked too. Why not? If I was supposed to be having college girl fun instead of being my usual boring self, I could play the part completely. Turning around, I just about dropped my empty shot glass, fingers numb and limp.

Because ridiculous was right.

Jenna didn’t even have to point out who she was talking about. Sure, I’m a virgin and haven’t seen any dicks outside of magazines and porn, but for sure, the tall guy sitting alone in the upstairs VIP lounge had an anaconda in his pants. Even in the suit and tie—who the hell wore a suit and tie to a club like this anyways?—I could see the clear outline of a heavy cock that went down practically to his damn knee. Oh god!

“You think it’s real?” Jenna asked with a giggle.

Denise snorted. “Who walks around a club with a fake dick?”

“Some guy on a reality show did it to get chicks,” Jenna purred coyly, eyeing the stranger hungrily. “Once he got them in bed, he’d only do them from behind so they wouldn’t see that it was a strap on.”

Holy shit, really? Guys go to lengths like that? My eyes went wide, mouth hanging open.

But neither of my friends were fazed.

“That’s dumb,” Denise shouted back over the music. “Then he didn’t even get to feel what it was like to fuck them.”

“Yeah,” I said, piping up in a small voice. “Guys can be so lame,” was my comment, though I didn’t have any real experience.

By now, all three of us were staring at the anaconda guy. Because how could we not? The VIP area was full but he was only one sitting alone. The white cloth over the table in front of him had a champagne bucket with an open bottle and one glass next to it.

In contrast, the rest of the VIP area was full, a few couples but mostly what looked like a bunch of college kids spending daddy’s money on bottle service. There was a lot of big hair, gold chains, and muscle shirts.