I’m a bit nervous, having never gone to a club like that, but the three of us have a list of things we’ve put together to do this year. We’re taking a sabbatical year before we all start working. One year of total freedom and letting our hair down. We deserve it! We all worked our butts off to graduate from college.

Second thing we’re crossing off on our to-do-list is going to a strip club. The first thing was the road trip we started a week ago. We’re currently in Vegas, it’s Riza’s choice of dream destination. It’s the perfect place to find a strip club, too.

It’s our last night in Vegas and we’re going to make the most of it before we make our way to New Orleans, which is one of the places Kelly wants to go to. The stop after that is Vancouver. Yeah baby, I want to see the city where most of Fifty Shades of Grey was filmed. It’s my favorite book and movie. Gosh, to walk where Christian and Ana walked.

The girls don’t know my reason for choosing Vancouver, they’ll rip me apart with their never-ending teasing.

Riza comes out of the bathroom, wearing a teensy tiny blue dress that clings to her perfect body like a second skin. She looks great but then she always does. She’s just dyed her hair ginger, the color of the month. It suits her blue eyes.

“You gonna wear that shirt?” Riza asks while frowning at the white shirt I’m busy working my arms through. She slips on her high heels, and I have to admit they make her legs looks awesome.

“Yeah. Kelly told me to.” I can feel a headache coming on!

“It’s a club, nothing like the parties we used to go to in college.”

Screw this! I grab the Guns N' Roses shirt I was wearing originally and drag it over my head. I tie the shirt in a knot behind my back so it pulls up just above my belly button, stretched tightly over my breasts. That should please Kelly. It looks great with the denim skirt I have on. I find my one sandal by the cupboard and look for the other one under the bed. I find it and quickly put them on. “There, I’m done. Let’s go,” I say and I walk towards the door.

“Yeah baby, swing that ass,” Kelly slaps me on my butt as she darts by me.

“We look so good they might just offer us jobs,” Riza jokes.

I don’t think it’s funny. I don’t want to look like a stripper. I move to untie the knot but Riza’s hand on my arm stops me. “Oh no, you don’t! Leave it like that. You look all kinds of smexy.”

“Smart I can believe, but sexy? No way, girl. You and Kelly have the sexy factor. I’m cool with being the brains of this operation,” I laugh. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not the insecure kind. Like everyone, I have positives and negatives. I’m cute and have amazing blonde hair, which girls would kill to have. I have huge grey eyes that have gotten me out of all kinds of trouble. I just wish I could be a little taller, like Riza and Kelly. Kelly’s the tallest, and no one fills a pair of jeans like she does. She’s always wearing jeans, even tonight, with her favorite pair of biker boots.

We all squeeze into the back of a cab. A few minutes later, Riza squeals next to me, “Oh.My.Gosh! It looks so hot from outside, just imagine the inside.”

I follow her gaze and the first thing I spot is the massive neon light that’s in the shape of a man bending a woman over and smacking her on the ass. As the lights flicker it looks like his hand is moving, spanking her with every other flickering of the red and yellow lights.

When the cab stops, my eyes are still glued to the flickering lights. There’s a nervous twist in my stomach.

“Here’s to sex, drugs and alcohol,” Kelly says as we all pile out of the cab.

“You’re on your own with the drugs. Just let one of us know if you decide to do some so we can watch you make an ass of yourself,” Riza says from over her shoulder, her eyes drinking in the entrance of the club.

There’s a fountain to the left and a burgundy carpet reaches all the way to the rope from inside the club. A beefy-looking bouncer is letting people in after checking their invites.

Riza filled in an application for us online and the club approved it, sending us our private invites. Riza’s been on cloud nine ever since. The club apparently doesn’t just let anyone through their doors, you have to be screened and sign a contract that whatever happens in the club, stays in the club.

Riza hands over our black, gold and burgundy invites. After the bouncer scans the info, he looks up. “To the right is a booth where you hand in your belongings. No cameras allowed.” He looks absolutely bored as he says this. He must’ve repeated it a thousand times already.

We walk down a shadowy hallway, the burgundy carpet plush under our feet. A muffled beat grows louder as we move further in. We stop at the booth and as unhappy as I am about handing my purse over, I don’t have much of a choice if I want to go in.

“What about money for drinks?” Kelly asks. Yeah, trust her to only think of alcohol when she’s handing over her purse to a stranger.

“You run a tab and settle it when you leave,” the hostess says with a stunning smile. It helps to put me at ease.

We each get stamped with a number. I notice it’s the same number as the small cubicle my purse is resting in. Number six. I freaking hate the number six. Couldn’t it have been any other number? Six is the unluckiest number ever.

“Cool-beans, I’ve got number nine,” Riza says, quite pleased. “Oh shit, this is so exciting,” she squeals. I don’t feel the same excitement as her. My nerves are grinding against each other from not knowing what to expect.

The hall breaks through into a large sitting area, decorated in black, gold and burgundy, those colors seem to be the theme of the club. It makes everything look mysterious, dare I say even a little sultry. Round tables are situated everywhere with a huge stage taking up the whole one side of the club.

We’ve been here twenty minutes already. We’re still waiting for the show to start and Kelly and Riza are on their second drinks. I’m still trying to finish my first. I can’t put them away as fast as they do.

“Don’t look now but to our right up on the balcony is the hottest group of men. Not one of you can say that we had something like that back in college,” Riza whispers with a huge grin on her face.

I wait a few seconds and look. The first man I see is blond, his hair shaggy. His eyes catch mine with a huge grin on his face, and I quickly look away.

“Don’t both look at the same time!” Riza hisses under her breath. “Geez, way to throw our names away. Take turns looking. They’ll know we’re interested if we all gawk at them. This is an upscale place. We have to make them work for it.”

“Work for what?” I ask, forcing my eyes to my drink and not back to the men.

“If any of them want a piece of my ass, they have to chase, preferably in the form of paying for our drinks.”

Before I can comment the lights dim and the room grows foggy, as mist is sprayed into the club from the stage’s direction. There’s a loud boom, followed by bright lights and then the spotlight reveals a man dressed in torn jeans and a white t-shirt. A woman is kneeling at his feet. The woman is face down, so I can’t make out what she’s wearing.

Another boom and my eyes grow huge in their sockets as the man grabs hold of the woman’s hair, yanking her from her kneeling position up against his leg. Her face is right next to his … ah … package. She’s topless! I didn’t expect to see anything so soon and my body flushes hot with embarrassment.

“Way to ease us in,” I mumble, slouching down in the chair.

“Don’t be such a wuss. Maybe you can learn something here,” Kelly teases and then she reaches for my drink. She finishes it in one big gulp. She catches the eye of a waiter and places another order for us.

My eyes are glued to the stage. The woman is now dancing seductively around the man, her hands all over his chest. She rips off his shirt and my jaw drops open, again.