1
GRIFFIN
Ican’t believe they convinced me to come to a strip club.
The neon lights of Euphoria dance off the glass of whiskey in my hand. I sit at the back of the room, leaning into the plush booth as the bass from the speakers vibrates around me. My employees, rowdy and raucous, fill the air with their laughter and shouts, tossing dollar bills onto the stage like confetti.
To say that I’m out of my element is an understatement.I’ve never had to go to a strip club to find a woman – I have plenty ripe for picking.
“Here’s to another successful project!” Kyle, my foreman, exclaims, lifting his own drink in a toast. The rest of the GreenFrame Construction team follows suit, clinking glasses together before downing their shots, leaving me to nurse mine slowly. Getting drunk tonight is one hundred percent not happening.
“I don’t know why I let you guys talk me into this,” I mutter to Kyle, wiping my hands on a napkin. “Never again.”
The truth is that my team happens to be phenomenal – they’ve been with me since I started at ground zero, way before I became the billionaire I am now by building this business up. I try to express my gratitude as much as I can…although nothing about a strip club screams professional.
He chuckles, slapping me on the back. “Come on, boss,” he says, his voice barely audible above the din. “Live a little. You’ve built skyscrapers—time to enjoy the view.” I roll my eyes, waving away a dancer who leans into my space, her perfume heavy and cloying.
“Not my thing,” I reply, taking another sip of whiskey. “I prefer my entertainment with a little more class.”Not all of these strippers with fake tits and stilettos that are almost taller than them.
“Ha!” Kyle laughs, slapping his knee. “You’ll change your tune when Lola comes out.”
My eyebrow lifts at the mention of this so-called ‘Lola.’ “What’s the big deal about her?”
“Trust me,” he says, his voice low and conspiratorial. “She’s special. Nothing like the others here.”
I doubt that.
Kyle’s smirk is the only warning I get before the club’s lights dim, bathing the room in a sultry darkness. An electric hum courses through the crowd, and the DJ’s voice reverberates through the space, announcing, “And now, gentlemen, who you’ve all been waiting for…the one and only... Lola!”
I lean back casually, determined to prove Kyle wrong and maintain my disinterest—untilshesteps on stage, and my breath catches in my throat.
Lola is a vision, her figure highlighted by the glittering costume that clings to her curves like a second skin. Her movements are hypnotic—graceful yet seductive—as she climbs the pole with effortless ease. My eyes widen in awe as her body twists in ways that seem both impossible and natural, her muscles rippling beneath the surface of her taut, flawless skin.
Kyle was right…she is different.
I’m completely focused on Lola, the way her soft, almost shy expression feels out of place in this setting. There’s something innocent and alluring about her that utterly captivates me. She doesn’t belong in a place like this.
She belongs in my arms underneath my sheets.
What’s going on with me? My thoughts race, trying to rationalize this sudden attraction. She’s just another dancer, right? They’re all beautiful, all skilled at their craft. So why does Lola feel different? Why can’t I tear my eyes away from her?
Because she looks like a fallen angel.
“Griffin,” Kyle says, snapping me out of my thoughts. “You’re staring.”
“Am I?” I reply, feigning nonchalance. “I hadn’t noticed.” But even as I say the words, I know they’re a lie.
“Ha, told you!” Kyle laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. “You’re just like the rest of us! You can’t take your eyes off of her.”
I don’t say anything. I can’t say anything. All I can do is think about all of the ways I’m going to make this woman mine.
Call it love, or lust, at first sight…whatever you want.
As Lola’s dance ends, the crowd roars with approval, and dollar bills rain down upon the stage. She offers a small smile before vanishing behind the curtains, leaving a trail of captivated gazes in her wake.
I’m not going to let her get away that easily.
I follow after her confidently until I see her pop up behind the bar, her fingers wrapped around a drink as she leans against the counter. She notices me and offers a polite smile—so different from the seductive one she wore on stage. “Can I help you?” she asks, her voice as intoxicating as the rest of her.
