Treasure [h.s]

| 02 - Hotel Room |

Sweet mother of baby Jesus, I am shit faced.

Getting through the club line was quicker than I imagined, the squirrely boy at the rope got a little show from Gracie and voila, we magically cut a 30-person line. Who knew boobies held so much power? Enough to take down big, bad, bodyguards apparently. Men are so easy.

The inside of this place is nothing like I imagined, we walked through the curtains and were met with a small hallway and a huge black door. The entire hall was dark and gold seashells lined the walls. I didn't even realize that I couldn't hear any music before I opened the door. It must be soundproof to block out some of the club noise in the casino.

Strobe lights flash and sweaty bodies bounce around the room, bumping in rhythm to the DJ working up in the front of the room on a raised stage. Ladies in short dresses walk around with bright smiles and trays held above their heads. There are poles scattered around the room, some being expertly occupied by women wearing practically nothing.

Grace made sure to make a bee-line straight to the bar, despite our pregame. It's like she has a radar for alcohol, she was sniffing the air like a hound dog. We stopped at the bar and she waved the man over, flirting with him and asking about drinks.

I really didn't want to drink tonight, and I know she promised we wouldn't but I'm grown enough to say no. She told me that she would order something not too strong and not as gross as the tequila if I was up for it. My self-control must be shit because I have not been saying no.

I took one sip of her fruity cocktail and the next thing I knew, I was down four of my own and my hands were on Grace's hips. I don't even remember drinking them, but the burning in my chest is evidence enough. I've lost count of how many shots I've had, men like to buy you things when you look like the reincarnation of young Megan Fox.

I knew I shouldn't have stepped into this club. I've done so good at staying away and keeping my own temptations at bay. I started to panic and get fidgety after so many drinks, but by the time I was sweating out my anxiety and Grace was trying to convince me to dance, the alcohol hit me in full force.

My limbs seemed to be floating around, chasing my pretty dance partner through the sea of sticky bodies. Their skillful grinding and humping had my cheeks blushing and I couldn't stop admiring the way everyone seemed so free. It probably looked like I was staring at tits though.

Which brings us to now, we're currently in the middle of the lit-up dance floor, on a slightly raised platform, dancing like we're animals. I don't even know how to but everything seems to be running on autopilot.

Grace is bent over in front of me, legs spread and hands on the floor. Her ass is grinding between my hips and my fucking hands can't decide where they want to stay. I can't seem to get enough of her under the pads of my fingers.

I decide to keep them on her hips to help her stay semi-standing while we dance. I know she drinks more than me, but she has to be getting dizzy from being bent over. I pull her back into me with every sway of the music, pink and white lights glazing over our sweaty faces.