Strip Club

Sunday morning, her eyes fluttered open, her head pounding like a relentless drumbeat. She groaned, the sound more like a series of squeaky whimpers, as her throat burned painfully, raw from the night before.

Rubbing her eyes softly, she forced herself to sit up. The room was still dim and silent, sunlight nowhere to be found. Her gaze drifted sluggishly around, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.

Suddenly, the fragments of last night’s chaos flashed before her eyes, sending a sharp chill down her spine. Clenching her eyes shut, she bit her lower lip harder than usual. Her trembling hands traced down her body, and the realization struck — she was completely naked beneath the sheets.

‘Fuck!’

She muttered, her voice low and shaky. Slowly, she turned her head over her shoulder — a man lay sleeping peacefully beside her. His upper body was bare, but the sheets covered him from the waist down, leaving her unsure if he was entirely naked.

A small sigh of relief escaped her trembling lips. Moving carefully, she slid out of bed, gathering her clothes one by one. She slipped them on in a hurry, then pulled on the long coat she never went anywhere without — her one small piece of safety.

Fully covered, she tiptoed toward the door, every step cautious. Just as she reached for the handle and began to open it, a deep voice cut through the silence.

“Izushi Susumi!” The guy growled, his tone half-teasing, half-commanding, while yawning and watching her attempt to flee.

He had been awake before her. He heard every rustle, every soft movement as she dressed. His hands rested lazily behind his head, a smirk curling across his lips as he turned slightly toward her.

“You… You know my name?” Izushi mumbled, her voice small yet audible enough for him to catch.

“You told me last night. Don’t you remember?” His smirk faltered slightly, worry flickering across his face at the thought she might not remember anything they’d done.

“I… I’m sorry.” All of a sudden, she bowed to him, apologizing so abruptly it startled him.

He stood up, a towel wrapped loosely around his torso, water still glistening faintly on his skin. As he walked toward her, he placed both hands gently yet firmly on her shoulders.

“What are you sorry for?” His deep, husky voice rolled through the quiet room, making her look up into his eyes. Her wide, puppy-like gaze softened his expression, though he didn’t let it show. “Tell me… do you not remember what we did last night?” he asked, his face composed but his tone laced with curiosity.

After taking a deep breath, Izushi shook her head in denial. She remembered every single thing — the drinks, the dance, the heat — but she couldn’t bring herself to admit it.

“Alright. You can leave.” His voice was calm, detached. He turned his back, walking over to where his clothes lay scattered, starting to dress.

Izushi gathered the last of her courage and rushed out of that suffocating club, her heart pounding.

“You’re back.” Jace said from the couch, eyes flicking away from the TV as he caught sight of her — hair tangled, coat buttoned unevenly, and her expression dazed.

“Yeah… I’ll go wash up first. Thank you.” She nodded quickly and disappeared into her room.

Jace blinked, putting the pieces together instantly. He knew Izushi well enough to recognize that look — the look of someone who had just lived through a hell of a night.

In their shared apartment lived Jace, Izushi, Lexie, Noah, Gabriel, Sophia, and Emily — a loud, chaotic group who knew each other’s business far too well.

“I heard some noise. What’s up?” Gabriel yawned as he entered the kitchen, reaching for a bowl of cereal.

“Yeah, Izzy just came back,” Jace said, a sly grin spreading across his face, accompanied by a few exaggerated winks.

“What?” Gabriel frowned, clearly unimpressed.

“She did it,” Jace added with an even wider smirk, unable to hide his amusement.

Gabriel froze mid-bite, nearly choking as the cereal spilled over the counter. “Are you fucking crazy?!” he shouted, slamming the bowl down.

“It was just a handsome stripper, and she was drunk. They probably did something. Why are you overreacting? You said you were over her,” Jace replied, rolling his eyes and turning back toward the TV.

“Still!” Gabriel barked and stormed down the hall, pounding on Izushi’s door.

“She’s showering! Leave her alone!” Jace yelled after him, shaking his head. Gabriel exhaled sharply, frustrated but silent.

When Izushi finally emerged — showered, dressed, and composed — the atmosphere in the living room shifted. Everyone already knew. News traveled fast here, and her one-night stand had become breakfast gossip.

“Whoa! Miss Spotlight is here!” Emily teased as soon as Izushi stepped in.

“What?” Izushi blinked, genuinely puzzled by the strange looks being thrown her way.

“Finally, you did it! After what… twenty-one years?” Sophia grinned playfully, crossing her arms.

“Tell us everything!” Lexie squealed excitedly.

“Tell about what?” Izushi’s confusion only deepened.

“About your one-night stand,” Noah chimed in casually, sipping his juice with one arm around Lexie’s waist.

“H-how do you know?” Izushi stuttered, her cheeks flushing.

“Just tell us already,” Jace said, joining in with that same mischievous smirk.

Izushi’s mind flashed back to last night. How could she tell them? How could she explain what she’d done — what she’d felt?

Let’s go back to last night…

“This is a bra!” Izushi hissed, glaring at Lexie, who was determined to make her wear something scandalous.

“No, it’s not!” Lexie shot back firmly, forcing her into the barely-there outfit. They were getting ready to go to a stripper club — Izushi’s punishment for losing at truth or dare. She had to do whatever Lexie demanded.

“This isn’t a top either,” Izushi protested, arms folded tightly over her chest.

“It’s a crop top,” Lexie retorted, swatting her hands away. She then handed over the shortest skirt imaginable, and though Izushi hesitated, the end result was undeniable — she looked stunning.

“Let’s go!” Lexie beamed, flipping Izushi’s hair with a triumphant smile.

It was Izushi’s fourth visit to New York, this time for a business trip. She had meetings lined up, including one with the CEO of Masel to secure funding for a new project. But tonight, work was the last thing on Lexie’s mind.

“I have work,” Izushi whined from the back seat.

“It’s Friday night, bitch!” Sophia shouted, taking a long sip from a massive bottle of champagne.

When they arrived at the club, the line outside was wild — but not for them. Their reservation got them straight in, greeted immediately by a man wearing nothing but boxers and a Santa hat.

“Give him your coat,” Lexie said, tugging at Izushi’s sleeve.

“But—” Izushi started, only to be interrupted.

“You look mind-blowing in that, sweetie,” the stripper said with a smirk. She blushed, muttered a small thanks, and was promptly dragged inside.

“Drink this!” Lexie ordered, shoving a glass of strong tequila into her hand. Izushi downed it — then another, and another — until the room began to spin and colors blurred together.

The music thumped through her veins. Her hips began to move, slowly at first, then freely. Her laughter echoed as strippers joined her on stage. She didn’t even realize she was the center of attention.

“You go, girl!” Lexie and Sophia cheered from below.

Then, out of nowhere, he appeared — tall, broad, a face carved like a Greek god, and eyes that seemed to see right through her. He stepped onto the stage, pushing the other dancers aside, his gaze locked on her.

“Stick to the rules!” he barked at the strippers, before grabbing Izushi’s hand and pulling her off stage.

“Who are you?! Let me go!” she protested, struggling like a child trying to break free.

“What’s your name?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, eyes burning with restrained desire.

“Izzy,” she chuckled, leaning clumsily against his chest.

“Doesn’t suit you,” he whispered immediately, making her frown.

“You’re a jerk! Let me go!” she snapped, playfully hitting his chest.

“Who did you come with?” he pressed, but Izushi was too drunk to recall anything.

“I… I don’t know,” she murmured, her gaze lost in his deep ocean-blue eyes.

“How do you not know?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Without another word, Izushi leaned in and crashed her lips against his. The kiss was sudden, intoxicating, and filled with reckless hunger.

He froze for a second, then gave in. He had been watching her since the moment she stepped into the club — and now, every ounce of control dissolved. His hands moved instinctively along her waist, pulling her closer.

The kiss deepened, turning wild and consuming. Their tongues moved in sync, the taste of alcohol and lust blurring their thoughts. He knew exactly what he was doing. She didn’t — but neither of them stopped.

Her leg curled around his torso as his hand slid down her thigh, teasing, tracing, claiming her skin inch by inch.

“You like that?” he whispered against her trembling lips. She bit down lightly and nodded, her eyes locked on his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice hoarse with want. He lifted her effortlessly and carried her upstairs to a dark, dimly lit room with no windows.

“On the bed. Now.” he commanded. She obeyed without hesitation, crawling up the sheets, her skirt riding higher as her body arched temptingly. Her eyes met his — daring him, inviting him.

Daring him with her eyes.