K. Golland - Attainment

“Want a drink?” he asks, ignoring my question and heading toward the bar.

As I wait for him to come back, I can’t help but feel uneasy about Alexis’ ‘surprise’. I hate not fucking knowing what is going on.

A well-built—and if I’m completely honest—good looking bloke in a cop’s uniform, holding a duffle bag, walks past. His shady appearance is distracting and only adds to my already unsettled frame of mind. Derek returns and sets my beer down on the bar table, and we both follow the cop with our eyes as he disappears from the club.

Confusion settles in as I wonder why a police officer has just strolled through my nightclub, a police office that looks far too pretty to be a cop. Hearing my phone ring from within my pocket, I pull it out and answer it, not even bothering to look who it is, my bewildered state of mind controlling my actions.

“Sir, Alexis has just entered a suite with her friends. Do you want me to wait outside?” Joey asks.

Agitated and not really paying attention, I tell him he can leave, and then disconnect the call. Moments later, the fog covering my mind appears to lift, and I begin to comprehend why I suddenly feel slightly ill.

“Derek, what fucking surprise have they got for Alexis?” I ask again, hoping to God that cop wasn’t what I thought he was.

The fucker shrugs his shoulders but clearly knows what the hell is going to happen upstairs.

“That better not have been some cockhead, wannabe dancer, pretending to be a cop who wants nothing more than to handcuff my fiancé and place her hands all over his spray-tanned, oily body,” I furiously spit out.

Feeling utterly murderous at the thought of another man forcing her to touch him and touching her in return, I begin to follow in the direction the girls headed.

“No you don’t,” Derek says while restraining me.

“Derek, fuck off! Let me go.”

“Dude, it’s just for one night. And anyway, Miss Nude Australia awaits you in Villa four,” he says as he releases one hand and waves a room key in my face.

“You’re an idiot, a dead set idiot. If you think for one second I am going to choose some stripper over rescuing Alexis from some slimy creep, you are dumber than dog shit. Let me go, now!”

“What’s goin’ on?” Will asks as he steps up to the both of us, assessing Derek’s armlock hold.

“Pansy here, wants to ditch Nude Australia and act all caveman in front of Alexis.”

“Speak fucking English,” Will complains.

“Carly has arranged a stripper for Alexis. I’ve arranged one for Bryce. Bryce doesn’t want to go. The dickhead doesn’t want Alexis to go either. I am currently stopping him from ruining everything. Wanna help me out?”

I apply a compression poke to Derek’s L11 pressure point, right in the crook of his elbow joint. This is my warning. If he doesn’t let me go in the next second, I will do some serious damage.

“Argh! Fuck, Bryce. Will, a little help please.”

Will steps in and restrains my hands.

“You arseholes! That dancer pretty-boy cop is about to rub his cock all over our women. How you can be alright with that is beyond me.”

“What pretty-boy cop?” Will queries, stepping back and looking confused. “You mean that one who walked past just before, that big, dark, handsome, police officer is a stripper?”

Derek tilts his head to the side in an assessment of Will. “Are you gay, Man? I don’t care if you are, each to their own.”

“No, I’m not gay. I’m actually this close...” he says holding up his thumb and pointer finger in Derek’s face, “...this bloody close to having Libby touch my cock. And I’ll be damned if that dancing cop-bloke gets his touched before mine. Let him go, Derek.”

“You’re weak. Both of you are fucking weak,” Derek spits out as he lets me go.

“What room are they in?” I ask, picking up my pace and heading for the exit.

“Don’t know,” Derek calls back with a shit-eating grin.

I stop, turn fully around, and start for him. “Tell me what room they are in or you’ll have no teeth left. And I can tell you, a lead singer without teeth will sound pretty fucking hilarious.”

He studies my face for a second. “You’re joking.”

“Am I? Let me ask you something. You’ve seen how Carly reacts to men, men with big muscles in particular. Imagine how she is going to react to body-builder, stripper-jerk. You sure you’re alright with that, alright with her dragging her hands across his chest, clenching his biceps, his arse, and feeling his sweaty junk?”

“She won’t touch his junk,” he affirms with not much conviction.

“You sure? Perhaps she likes Police Officers more than Firemen.”

I watch him lose a battle of cockiness. “Shit! Motherfucking Shit!”

“Which room?” I ask for the last time.

“Presidential suite two,” he surrenders.

Not wasting a second longer, I sprint for the elevator, Derek and Will not far behind me.

“If I walk in and see that naked fucker at full mast, thrusting it in Alexis’ face, I will kill you,” I glare at Derek as I swipe my card through the security lock on the Presidential Suite’s door.

Will laughs “You’re a fool, Man,” he says sympathetically as he pats Derek on the back. “I can’t believe you thought you’d get away with this.”

“I’m glad you find this funny, Will. You just wait until you find a woman that you can’t get out of your head. A woman you will go to the ends of the earth to be with and protect. A woman that becomes your sole reason for breathing. You just wait, Mate. Your day will come, and when it does, I will laugh right back at you,” I say as I open the door.

“You’re a poetic fucker, aren’t you?” Derek teases.

I’m at the point of performing my own chokehold on my best friend, just to knock him out and shut him the hell up, when the sound of “SexyBack” by Justin Timberlake sounds from within the suite.

“Fuck!” I growl, turning to my idiot best friend. Before taking off in the direction of the music and squealing women, I shove Derek so hard that his back hits the wall.

He laughs at me and starts singing along with JT.

With my heart thumping in my chest over what horrid sight I think I’m about to see, I reluctantly turn the corner. Firstly, I lay my eyes on the massive oily bastard, who is straddling Alexis’ lap as if he is some fucking rodeo star. She is sitting on a single chair in the middle of the room with her friends standing around in a circle, clapping, dancing, and raising their champagne filled glasses in the air. It really is quite ridiculous and bloody nauseating.

My vision goes back to Alexis who—thank God—has her eyes closed and her hands covering her face, clearly not wanting the dickhead treating her like a horse. My heartbeat calms a little, and all I want to do now is rescue her from her apparent distress.

“Hey! Get out!” Carly yells, pointing in my direction. “No grooms allowed...unless...” she wiggles playfully, “...you want to start removing your clothes.”

“You...” I point to her, “...You and I are gonna have some words later. “And you...” I point to the hairless, Chippendale wannabe. “Back the fuck off.”

He steps aside with a knowing expression as though this is not the first time an irate partner has stormed into the room. Alexis sits frozen with a terrified expression on her face as I stop right beside her chair and tower over her.

She starts to speak, seemingly to defend herself. “I didn’t know—“

Cutting off her unnecessary apology, I reach forward and take hold of her hand, pulling her up to my chest and pressing my lips to hers in a forceful show of ownership. My intention is to make a clear point that she is mine.