The Match

I nod. “No way I could get out of work for that many days anyway. I was lucky I got tonight off. They wanted me to pull another double.”

“I don’t know how you do it, bro.” Ryan gives the bouncer a wad of cash, enough to cover all of us. None of it earned legally. “At least you did it. You’re the only one from the old neighborhood that crawled out of the fucking gutter and made something of yourself.”

I busted my ass to get a scholarship to the University of Pennsylvania, a school my dad told me would never take poor white trash. I proved him wrong along with everyone else I know. My friends were never like me. They were too busy fucking off in school and getting into trouble. But they had street smarts that helped me do what was necessary to pay my way through medical school at Duke University. In that way, we are alike. We are the products of our shitty upbringing.

My friends have connections at this club. They sell drugs to the bouncers and some of the girls, so we pass right through the door without a word. Men are forced to wait outside, hoping for enough girls to come along to grant them access. Wyatt strolls into the club alongside Zander like they own the damn place, while I hang back with Ryan and Travis.

Over the thumping of the techno beat, I can’t hear a single word my friends are yelling. I nod, having no idea what I am agreeing to, and follow Wyatt and Zander to the stairs in the far corner. The air is thick, the stench of sweaty bodies and beer filling my nostrils. Purple lights illuminate the mirrored walls and ceiling above the bar, casting the reflection of the girls grinding in cages at the center of the dance floor.

Parts of the club are roped off, the VIP areas lined with plush couches and girls dancing on top of tables. That’s where we usually party when we come to The Sixth Floor. Located on the Delaware River, the hottest nightclub in Philly has balconies that overlook the Camden Waterfront, and private floors dedicated to high-end clients.

What holds my interest most are the cages that suspend from the ceiling over the massive dance floor. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off the raven-haired bombshell shaking her perfect ass next to her blonde friend. Both of the girls are my type, but the one girl has a body made for sin and lips made to suck my cock. Imaging her dark hair fisted in my hands, mouth open, and eyes pointed up at me, I almost knock Zander on his ass.

He falls forward, using the railing to stabilize himself, keeping me from tripping over him in the process. I grip his shoulder to regain my balance and apologize with a quick slap on his arm. Zander glances over his shoulder at me and gives me a curious look, but doesn’t say a word. I’m drunk but not as much as Wyatt. Travis isn’t any better. He gets strangely quiet when he’s shitfaced, where Wyatt doesn’t shut the fuck up.

We find Kayla, the manager who hooks us up with a table whenever we come here, which isn’t much anymore with my work schedule. She leads us to the reserved section, shaking her tight ass in a short skirt that could pass as underwear.

The cages catch my attention in the mirror on the wall behind a long row of couches in our section, as if begging me to notice. I turn around and sit on the sofa between Ryan and Wyatt to get a better look. Everyone in the club can see the two girls dancing for our amusement. But I see something entirely different. I watch as Ava moves, her body so in tune to the music, each movement perfectly timed to the beat.

She wraps her half-naked body around a pole at the center of the metal cage, dropping to the floor with such grace I can’t help but stare. Alternating with her friend, the two of them taking equal turns. A bouncer stands on our floor, where the balcony opens up, but on the other side of the walkway, waiting to help them out of the cages.

“You owe me shots,” Wyatt says. He pushes his hand in front of my face to snap me out of my daydream.

I take a beer from the waitress’ tray and sink into the plush fabric. “I didn’t forget. We have all night.”

Wyatt follows my line of sight to the girls from the cage, who are now walking toward us. He gets up from the couch and slips under the velvet rope that marks off our private area. I tap my hand on my knee, beckoning Ava to come closer when I lock eyes with her. She looks even better than the night we met.

“Ladies,” Wyatt says with his signature shit-eating grin. He brushes the hair that fell on his forehead out of his eyes, zoning in on the blonde. “I was hoping you could help me out with something. My friend owes me a shot.”

He points to me, and I tip my head in acknowledgment.

“What does that have to do with us?” Ava narrows her eyes at him, confused.

With little distance between us now, I get a better look at her bright blue irises that pop against her pale skin and dark hair. I need to fuck her again, possess her, and claim every inch of her killer body. My dick hardens when she peeks over at me, as if telling me with her eyes to come closer. And I do, moving toward her without even realizing she has this strange hold over me.

Standing on the bottom step, I lean against the short railing that fences off the next VIP area from ours. Wyatt winks at me, before refocusing his gaze on the girls in front of us.

“You see, Doc promised me a shot off a beautiful woman’s tits.” He points to the blonde, who smiles so wide it reaches up to her eyes. “And I want that woman to be you.”

She giggles, turning nervously to look at Ava who shrugs. I can already tell without her speaking that the answer is yes. Wyatt is a pig, and he makes no excuses for it. He has a way of getting women to do what he wants that I will never understand. Everything he says would sound disgusting to me if he were hitting on me. But the blonde has no issues with how he speaks to her.

“I’m Wyatt,” he says, holding out his hand. “And you are?”

“I’m Stacey,” the blonde says. She mashes her huge tits together, giving both of us a nice view down her tight black dress that hugs her tiny waist and rides up her ass. Stacey points to her friend. “This is Ava.” She slaps Ava on the back to push her closer to me.

Focused on Ava’s lips, my eyes travel down her body, my attention shifting when Stacey’s forceful shove causes Ava to tumble forward. I manage to close the distance between us in just enough time to wrap my arms around her middle and hold her tight. She smells like apricots, the sweetness making me want to lick the scent from her delicious skin.

“Funny meeting you here,” I tell Ava, releasing her from my strong grip.

She runs a hand down the front of her red dress, tugging at the hem that sits high on her thighs, and smiles. “Your friends call you Doc.”

“Yeah, they’ve been calling that ever since I got into medical school.” I slide my hand to her hip and pull her chest into mine. “Dance with me.”

“Aren’t you bossy.” Her lips part for me, and she glides her tongue along her bott

om lip. “Only if you show me how good you are with those hands.”

“That I can do.” I peek over at Wyatt and mouth that I’m going downstairs with Ava.