“Still like a hooker, though.”
“Maybe,” I said, putting my arm around her waist and pulling her against me. She practically fell into my arms, not used to the heels. “But I’m already fucking hard. We can break our deal and stay in if you promise to suck my cock nice and long.”
“No way,” she said, pushing away from me.
“Your loss.”
“Doubtful.”
Just then, her phone began to ring. She answered it and then hung up after a second.
“Lydie is downstairs.”
“After you.”
I grinned to myself as she teetered downstairs like a baby giraffe finally learning to walk.
“Why do you even own those if you can’t walk in them?” I asked.
“Because they’re cute. But I never wear them.”
“Obviously.”
She gave me a dirty look and nearly fell down the steps. I caught her by the wrist and held her steady.
“Careful,” I said. “Seriously.”
She nodded, her eyes wide, and began to walk down the steps more carefully.
“Never liked heels,” she grumbled as we finally got downstairs.
“Your ass looks incredible, though.”
She blushed and looked away as she pulled open the door. Lydie was standing there, looking every bit the prostitute, and she squealed with delight when she saw Claire. Apparently she was excited that she wasn’t the only one looking like a high-class hoe.
“Holy fucking shit, bitch!”
“I know. I feel so stupid.”
“You look hot as fuck. Are you kidding me? I’m practically dripping wet just looking at you.” She glanced at me. “And are you our chaperone for tonight?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Good. Always nice to have a man around to scare off the weaklings.”
I laughed as we all walked into the kitchen.
“Seriously, Claire, you look amazing. If you don’t get at least four guys trying to fuck you tonight, I’ll castrate myself. Seriously.”
“I’m not interested,” Claire said.
“How about a little pregame shot?” I said, cutting in. I got down three glasses and a bottle of expensive, handmade Vodka.
“Can’t say no to that!” Lydie said, and Claire laughed.
I poured the shots and we knocked them back. I felt the reassuring weight of my gun tucked into my pants, hidden by my shirt, as the girls laughed and made inside jokes that I was only barely listening to.
Truthfully, I didn’t want this to happen. I wasn’t lying when I said a nightclub would be the worst possible place to take Claire. It was crowded and easy to lose her, plus they would be drinking, which only made the situation more dangerous. I took one shot to loosen me up, but I knew I couldn’t drink much more.
I needed my wits about me. It wasn’t likely that something bad was going to happen, but there was a chance. That was why I had my knife and my gun, both ready.
Soon I was able to corral the girls out to an Uber, which took us downtown. They were tipsy but not too drunk, and the excited feeling that always came before a night out was heavy in the car. We were going to the same club that I’d first met Claire at, which brought a bunch of memories flooding through me as we climbed out of the car.
The line out front was enormous, but I immediately escorted the two girls up to the front of the line. Claire was clinging to my arm the whole time, clearly afraid she was going to break an ankle in her shoes, and I caught more than one guy giving her a second look. She definitely noticed them as well, which only made her more self-conscious.
It took us a minute of explaining and a quick flashing of I.D.s before the bouncer figured out that Claire’s dad owned the club and let us in. I felt bad for the assholes still waiting in line, but being with a rich spoiled girl and her friend did have its perks.
My head was on a swivel as soon as we were inside. My first priority was to get them into the VIP area as fast as possible without any incidents. Of course, Lydie wanted to dance, but I managed to drag them along and beyond the red velvet rope.
Once seated, Lydie immediately began texting. Claire sat close to me and practically yelled into my ear.
“It’s so packed in here!”
“I know. More danger.”
“Are you going to be no fun all night?”
“Please, sis. I’m always fun.”
“Not when you’re too worried about me getting snatched by pirates.”
“I’m more worried about getting in that snatch tonight than I am about pirates.”
She gave me a confused look, and I laughed, shaking my head. She either didn’t hear me or didn’t understand my pun, and I wasn’t about to repeat it.
The waitress walked over and took our drink orders. I stuck with a light beer, mostly because I didn’t want to stick out too much by not drinking, but also because I didn’t want to get drunk.