I took a deep breath, trying to ease my nervousness as my friends all joined in easing me into the club, their arms looped around mine on either side.

The music pumped louder the closer we got to the main area, the building darkening with more colored lights as the only light source.

People brushed all around me, trying to get to the bar or the 'viewing section'. God, this was pathetic.

The stage was empty right now, only solemn chairs and poles stood on the darkened platform.

Women all around me wore skimpy clothing as they sat at the bar that Layla led me to, a blue light shining atop us.

The bartender that waited for us to be seated at the stools wasn't skimpily dressed as I assumed him to be, and was actually just wearing a plain black muscle t-shirt with jeans.

"Hey, can we get 5 tequila shots? And how about an extra shot in one of them cause it's her birthday tonight.."

Layla did not just tell them it was my birthday.

"Coming right up," The bartender smirked in my direction, as if knowing that I didn't belong here as he turned around to fetch the alcohol bottle.

As he turned his back to us, I leaned in to whisper yell in Layla's ear, "Are you crazy? What if he asks for an ID?"

We were seniors in high school, for christ's sake. Surely, the bartender would pick up on our young complexions.

"Chill out," Layla chuckled, yelling over the many voices speaking in the background over the sound of the club music, "I know him. He'll look out for us, don't worry."

I shook my head with disbelief that she actually knew this bartender, and that she actually got him to cover for our ages.

He finished pouring our shots before returning to the counter to give us each a small shot glass, but placed an extra one in front of me.

"Happy birthday, ma'am, second one is on the house." He smiled at me, until his eyes floating up to the viewing stage that was now illuminated. "Have a good time." He winked.

It was then that I turned around behind me to see what he was looking at, and saw that the stage was beginning to light up.

"Here, keep this on." Layla blurted, fetching something out of her small handbag.

Something was quickly thrown over my shoulders, hanging loosely and diagonally across my arm and torso.

I looked down to see that it was a satiny sash that read, The Birthday Girl.

I didn't know the reason for wearing it, but what's the harm in doing so? It was my birthday.

Then, a large, broad man wearing a clear headpiece below his bald head approached Layla to the side. His head leaned in to whisper something, and she nodded understandingly.

"Who was that?" I yelled over the music after the man walked away towards what I assumed to be the back entrance of the stage.

"Can't tell you." She shook her head, reaching to bar to pick up her shot glass.
She lifted her glass and peered over my shoulders to engage my other friends in the toast. "To Rosé. Happy birthday, bitch!"

I chuckled as I watched them all down their shots, so I did the same. I placed the glass to the tips of my lips, leaning my head back as I downed the fiery liquid.

I coughed half of the drink out, laughing at my own inexperience as everyone but Layla almost choked on the burning liquid.

The music suddenly drowned to a low hum, effectively gaining the attention of the entire club as we all looked to the only sound source at the viewing stage.

Layla squealed as did many of the other girls in the club, and she took my hand to drag me with her as she ran to grab a close spot to the stage, shoving through other girls.

"What's the deal?" I raised an eyebrow, yanking my arm from her right grasp.

She looked over at me, her eyes squinted as if I was really as clueless as I seemed. "The guys are about to come out!"

"The strippers?"

My words were muffled by the overwhelming shouts of every woman at what I could only assume to be the performers.

There was a curtain that provided a barrier between us and the men, and a blank black stage that was filled with the colored lights from above.

A man stepped out from behind the curtain, his familiar brown hair ruffled beautifully and his tattoos glistening under the thin layer of oil he had obviously applied to his toned chest.

I didn't know he had tattoos.

And just dangling from his neck, wore a lonesome maroon tie.

My breath caught in my throat as I practically choked on air.

"Holy fucking shit." I muttered under my breath, hearing the crowd go wild for the familiar stripper as he made his way to the center of the stage.

"Please give it up for our lovely performer of the night," A female voice echoed throughout the speakers over the excited shouts. "Mr. Styles!"

Mr. Styles.

Who I assumed to be my own science teacher, began skimming his eyes through the crowd with seductive eyes, his smirk creating dimples in his cheeks.

He reached his hand to tighten his tie over his bare chest and lowered his pants to rest just above his v-line.

"Is that who I think it is?" I shouted over at Layla who seemed to be to preoccupied with dancing and her drink to even notice what I noticed.

The music paused before it amplified once again, but this time, a more seductive and slow song arose.

Mr. Styles glanced around the crowd, amping them up before his performance, and he began walking to our side of the stage.

His eyes skimmed over the crowd before they landed with mine unexpectedly, and it was at that moment, I was sure that was my teacher.

His emerald eyes seemed to panic at first, before picking his lips to hide it and walked back over to middle stage.

I was taken aback by his next movements.

The song slowed, as did his body. He stood tall, and did long and entrancing body rolls, thrusting his pelvis outwards and balling his hands into fists.

His hands slid down his toned torso slowly, until his hands finally slid over his groin to grab it through his tight jeans.

His tongue stuck out seductively, synchronizing with the song that I hadn't heard before.

He suddenly dropped to the floor, his palms flat against the stage before his legs were in the air to begin grinding against the floor slowly.

The crowd roared for him. Money was being thrown for him onto the stage, large bills littering his workspace.

His muscles flexed with each of his hypnotizing grinds, his low jeans allowing everyone to see the curve that turned in from his back to his ass.

He got up from the floor to then dance slowly to the edges of the stage that was closest to the audience.

He then came to our side of the stage, where he made direct eye contact with me before getting as close as he could to then begin gyrating his hips.

He continued his slow movements all the way until he hit the floor to grind against it again, right in front of me.

I bit my lip to prevent myself from groaning at the sight in front of me.

His hair hung over his eyes loosely as he stood up again, the club lights perfectly illuminating his gorgeous figure.
He straightened his tie with a smirk before he walked to the back of the stage for a moment.

"It's time to pick his audience member!" Layla screamed over the shouts of the crowd to me, and I had no idea what that meant.

It was then that Mr. Styles brought back out a single chair, and the crowd began its excited screams as did Layla. What was the deal?

My thoughts cut themselves short once I saw Mr. Styles get up onto the chair, his hand trailing slowly down his stomach then to his groin.

He placed one arm on the back and his other on the arm of the chair, hovering over the seat itself. He was a master at balancing on that chair.

He then began to grind against the chair, as if a person were seated there underneath him.

It got everyone hot and riled, including me as he smirked at his audience's reactions.

He got them hooked. He got me hooked.

Mr. Styles then stopped his grinding on the chair, moving to then stand in the middle of the stage as he nodded to the guards that he was ready for his first guest.

The crowd roared, eagerly raising hands to offer themselves at the hands of the superiority of the sex god himself.

I waited for the chosen girl to be seated up on the stage, but was taken aback when Layla nudged me. I looked over to her to see what she did it for, and gulped at the sight of the guards offering their hand for me to take.

It was the same guy that randomly approached her earlier at the bar.

"What the hell, what did you do?" I yelled confusedly to Layla, who just had a smug look on her face as she brushed her frizzy blonde hair out of her eyes.

"Happy birthday, Rosé! My treat, now go have fun!"

My eyes widened once I realized that the guards were already pulling me towards the stairs that led up to the stage, realizing what Layla meant.

She paid for this. That's why there was that guy earlier, to confirm her payment.

I glanced back at Layla in the crowd as I took reluctant steps up the stairs, seeing her smile encouragingly for me to continue on.

I really did not want to do this, but I mean, she already paid and everything.

I stopped at the top of the stairs, the guards now leaving me at the mercy of the stripper.

Mr. Styles smirked as he walked over to meet me at the top of the small stair step, offering his hand to guide me to the chair.

I placed my hand in his, and with a smug smirk, he guided me towards the chair.

~

Author's Note :

wow, already getting spicy.

like i mentioned before, this story will feature heavy mature content as it is considered erotic, more than my other books.

please, let me know what you think of this story so far!

there is SO much more to come!!

stay tuned ;)

xo..kay

.1808 words.