Page 124 of Dirty Like Dylan

There wasn’t exactly a lack of stuff to keep me entertained here. The cocktail waitresses were little more than naked and the place was packed, the dance floor already off the hook, the whole place grinding to Dua Lipa’s “Blow Your Mind.”

Actually… upon closer inspection, the sexy waitresses were all incredibly tall and… broad-shouldered.

Because they were men.

Or more specifically… drag queens?

I glanced over at the two men I’d come with. Ashley met my gaze and lifted his pierced eyebrow, maybe trying to read the look on my face. Dylan winked at me.

I shook my head and sipped my martini, kinda giggling to myself.

Who are these guys?

I was still trying to process everything as the details came into focus… but that was definitely a dude dancing over there in the raised cage—in a sparkly miniskirt and platform heels. And damn, could he/she dance.

I was still watching him dance when a woman strode over to our table, with purpose. The way the crowd parted for her, I half-expected her to be carrying a tray of drinks, but she wasn’t.

She also wasn’t half-naked. She wore a tucked-in blouse and pencil skirt, and would’ve looked too classy for this place if not for the heavy makeup.

I looked, incredibly carefully, as Ashley rose to greet her… but I was pretty sure she was a woman. No male could get curves like that, no matter how many drugs he took or surgeries he underwent.

After she’d gotten—and given—her cheek kiss, then leaned in to exchange one with Dylan, her heavily-lashed eyes landed on me.

“Amber, this is Kitty,” Dylan said, sliding over to sit closer to me. “Kitty, this is Amber.”

I stared at her. She was curvy as hell, with long, dark hair. And a lot older than I might’ve expected. She looked close to forty.

She was literally nothing like me, other than the fact that we were both female. But this had to be their previous “arrangement”—the woman Dylan and Ashley had a three-way commitment with, briefly, last year. How many women were named Kitty?

“Hi,” I said, offering my hand. “Nice to meet you.” It was. I was fucking intrigued.

“Likewise.” She shook my hand and smirked a bit as Ashley slid in close on my other side. I was wedged in-between him and Dylan, and Kitty didn’t miss it. She raised her chin, eying my half-empty glass. “What can I get you, Amber?”

“You work here?”

“This is my club,” she said, placing a hand on her cocked hip. Everything about her, like this club in general, screamed sex.

“Oh. Um, another martini would be great.”

“How about you two?” That small smirk played on her lips as she looked the guys over.

“We’re good,” Ashley said.

Kitty nodded. “Be right back.” Then she walked away, hips swaying in her tight skirt.

I looked at Ashley. Then Dylan.

“Um, you guys could’ve given me a heads up.” I aimed that mainly at Dylan, who now had a history of blindsiding me. Then I gave Ashley a pointed look, because he knew Dylan had a history of blindsiding me. He could’ve filled me in, at least.

“Didn’t know she’d be here,” Ashley said.

“It’s her bar,” I replied, doubtful. “And please tell me she’s a woman, or I may need a lot more than two martinis to get my head around this.”

“One-hundred-percent female,” Ashley assured me with a tiny smirk. “From birth.”

Dylan leaned in close to my ear, his breath on my neck. He put his big hand lightly on my throat, drifted his thumb over my bottom lip and said, “I so wanna fuck you right now.”

“Why?” It fell out of my mouth before I could think about it, and Dylan chuckled, his hand dropping to my thigh.

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