Danger! Bad Boy(21)

Jana and Rita both got loud in their protests. “That’s such typical guy bullshit!” Jana whined.

“Total crap!” Rita agreed, then addressed Gianna directly, “You shouldn’t put up with that.”

Gianna tilted her head to the side thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I’m kind of liking the idea. Makes things easier.”

Made what easier? Why did her words cause me anxiety?

Jana and Rita gathered around her in some sort of girl-support cocoon that shut us guys out. “You don’t have to put up with that from a guy! You’re so beautiful. I bet you have guys falling at your feet, all eager to love you.”

I gripped my drink tighter.

Gianna rolled her eyes, not taking them seriously. “Most of them aren’t worth my time.”

“And this douche is?” Rita asked, pointing at me with a thumb.

“Yeah, he isn’t all that,” Jana rudely chimed in. Now I felt like rolling my eyes. Little more than an hour ago she was begging me to screw her, the two-faced slut.

These drunk bitches were pretending I wasn’t sitting a yard away from them as they talked shit about me to my girlfriend. What did they know of me and Gianna? I was worried they’d infect Gianna with their stupidity. I had the sudden urge to get my girlfriend away from these people. They weren’t good enough to be around her in the first place. It was like a princess hanging out in a whorehouse.

“Oh shit, you’re in trouble,” Liberty joked. When the quiet person in the group spoke up, it was a sign the situation was escalating.

Gianna waved her hand in the air nonchalantly. “Don’t worry about it, I’m not.”

With incredibly bad timing, one of the strippers came by asking, “Does anyone want a lap dance?”

Gianna perked up, holding her hand out to me. “I need some cash.”

“What the hell for?” I asked in alarm, not liking the calculating look in her eyes.

“Just give me the money, Caleb,” she ordered in an exasperated tone.

I took out my wallet and handed her some twenties. Snatching them out of my hand, she leaned over to kiss my cheek. “Thanks, babe.”

She gave them to the stripper saying, “My boyfriend needs a lap dance.”

“Gianna, what the hell are you doing?” I exploded. If I wanted a lap dance, I’d get it from my girlfriend. That was what the hell she was for.

She looked at me angelically. “Sheesh, lighten up, Caleb. Learn to have some fun.”

Brooks laughed obnoxiously, making me want to break his nose. Levi thumped my shoulder in encouragement. Liberty appeared to be the only one wary of a girlfriend getting her boyfriend a lap dance.

Brooks shouted, “That’s how every girlfriend should treat her man!”

What, by making him pay for a lap dance he didn’t want in the first place?

Rita and Jana looked disgusted and annoyed. Stupid drunk bitches.

I was angry with Gianna for making a spectacle of our relationship. Surprisingly, I was also slightly hurt she’d treat what we had like it was nothing. It occurred to me that perhaps she was acting out just to mess with me. Was she trying to teach me a lesson?

The suspicion was growing stronger. If so, two could play at that game.

It was time to start the show. I slouched back in my chair and patted my lap for the stripper. I discreetly watched Gianna’s eyes narrow. I turned my head to full on look at her and saw her paste an unconcerned smile on her face.

The stripper swayed over seductively with a wicked smile on her face. I had to admit she was hot. Nice body, fake boobs, lots of platinum hair, pretty enough face. Normally I’d be pleased by the attention, enjoy the sexually charged moment. Having a girlfriend I was committed to changed everything. Even if my girlfriend was acting like a brat in need of a spanking.

However, Gianna started this game and I planned on winning it. Teach her a lesson of her own. I sat there seemingly willing while the stripper grinded on my lap. During most of the dance, I stared into Gianna’s eyes.

The stripper wore nothing but a thong, making me get hard with the combination of that and her movements. It didn’t help I was having flashbacks of Gianna doing some of the same moves on my lap the night before.

The stripper rubbed her boobs against my chest and whispered in my ear, “You’re cuter than my usual customers.”

I didn’t comment back. Maybe the stripper was into me or maybe she made every guy she straddled believe he was that rare customer who actually turned her on in return. This situation was all wrong. I wasn’t supposed to be in a Vegas strip club with my girlfriend looking on while a stripper ground herself into me.

Moving my gaze from the tits in my face to the hurt in Gianna’s eyes she was trying to hide with a phony smile had me ready to admit defeat. Maybe winning wasn’t worth it. Whatever the hell game she was playing, it was causing her pain. The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt her. The thought drove me crazy.