“Mags, you don’t even know her.”
“Neither do you, but you’re right, darling, of course.” She tapped a finger against her cup. “It’s just that she’s been so involved in your father’s life and has been spending time with Brynn.”
She was right, Karen was a fixture now. Allie stood. “Fine. I’ll go call her.”
“And you’ll be sweet and ask very, very nicely?”
Allie raised one brow. “I’ll be polite, but let’s not get crazy.”
***
Three days later, Mags’s sister flew in from London. Allie wasn’t sure what to expect, but Pixie managed to make Mags seem tame. She was a few years younger, and where Mags was curvy and voluptuous, Pix was petite and slim. Somewhere in her late forties or early fifties, she looked at least fifteen years younger with a pretty, delicate heart-shaped face.
When Pix arrived from the airport, Trevor had greeted her with real affection, placing a kiss on each cheek. Her twentysomething Italian husband got a cool handshake and a cold stare.
That night, for the hen party, Pix wore a feather dress and black stacked platforms with red corset lacing along the back of the heel. Mags looked like a diva in a silver beaded dress.
Allie wasn’t thrilled about going. She didn’t want to spend an evening with Karen. It was bound to be tense and uncomfortable. When Trevor tried to talk her into staying home with him instead, she was almost persuaded.
“We could spend the evening in bed. I’ll make it worth your while, Miss Campbell. I’ll break out the handcuffs again.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Sorry, English. You’re going to have to spend time with your father and your new Uncle Paolo.”
“Uncle? The man’s younger than I am.”
Allie stroked his cheek. “It’s just one night. You’ll live. So will I.” She moved toward the staircase, but Trevor snagged her hand and pulled her back.
“Don’t touch the strippers darling, you don’t know where they’ve been.” He kissed her lightly before letting her go.
“Back atcha.”
She walked out the front door and scooted into the limo with Mags and Pixie. They picked Karen up a few minutes later, and as soon she climbed inside, Mags poured the champagne.
“Thank you for inviting me,” Karen said, looking at Allie.
Allie stuck a smile on her face. “Sure. Glad to have you.”
Pix produced four tiaras and handed them out. “Ladies, it’s time to get our freak on.”
Karen looked a little nonplussed but gamely placed the tiara on her head. “Where exactly are we going?”
Mags’s laugh tinkled like a fountain while Pix’s laugh was huskier, more seductive. “You’ll find out. Allie, tiara,” Pixie said.
With a sigh of resignation, Allie shoved the tiara on her head. She may as well get into the spirit of things or it would be a long night. “There, how do I look?”
Mags grinned. “Like the princess you are, dearest.”
“Here, girls.” Pix scooped up three hot-pink gift bags.
Peeking inside the bag, Allie laughed and pulled out the contents, one at a time. “Good Lord, Pix.” It was a penis paradise—rocket pockets, penis candies, mints and suckers along with a flashing pecker pin.
Karen’s eyes grew huge. “Oh my.”
“Let’s put on our pins, darlings,” Mags said. She attached hers to her one-shouldered dress. The penis-shaped pin lit from the inside with a flashing yellow light. “Now, girls, how do I look?”
With her marabou and fake rhinestone tiara and cock jewelry, she looked like a loon. But she seemed to be having such a good time, Allie said, “You look great, Mags.”
Simmons pulled to a stop in front of a club that advertised an all-male review in neon. “If you ladies need me, I’ll be right out here.” He glanced at Allie and nodded. “You have my cell number?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
As they approached the club, a shirtless hunk stood at the door taking tickets. He flashed a grin. “Welcome.”
They maneuvered through the dark interior as another muscled, shirtless man led them to their table. “Enjoy yourselves.”
“Oh, we will, pet, I promise,” Pix said.
Allie rolled her eyes. Whether she got into the spirit of the evening or not, it was definitely going to be a long night. They ordered drinks and Allie nursed hers.
Karen leaned over. “Have you ever been here?”
“No,” Allie said. “Do you feel uncomfortable?”
Karen pointed to a waiter across the room. “That was one of my students a couple of years ago. It’s strange.”
Yeah, Allie imagined it would be. The lights dimmed and she turned toward the stage.
A guy in a tux introduced the strippers. The music overhead blared out a patriotic theme, and one by one, hot men, their muscles bulging, stepped out onto the stage, each in a different military uniform.
“Oh, I love a man in a uniform,” Mags said.
Pix smiled. “I love a man out of one.”
It was like being with two middle-aged, horny teenagers.
The guys danced across the stage, ripping off their uniforms. Those tan, virtually naked men—save for the banana hammock G-strings—strutted around and froze in a series of bodybuilder poses. There were hip thrusts, gyrations, and one could work his ass like a paint shaker.
But things got really disturbing when Mr. Marine pulled Mags up onto the stage, sat her in a chair, and humped her face. Allie grabbed her phone and, laughing, sent a picture to Trevor.
Her phone immediately vibrated. Waving to Pix, she slid out of her seat and wound her way through the club to the front door. The bouncer gave her a once-over and a seductive smile. She walked further from the entrance and answered. “Yes?”
“If you ever send me a picture like that again, I will be in a fetal position for the rest of my life. Is that what you want?”
Allie laughed. “You should see you mother. She’s eating it up. No pun intended.”
“Oh. Good. God.”
“Pix gave us a bag of penis paraphernalia. If I’m not mistaken, there’s a candy cock ring with you name on it, mister.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait, I’m bored.”
“You’re at a naked male buffet and you’re bored?”
Allie shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it over the phone. “Yep. You’ve seen one waxed, naked ass, you’ve seen them all.”
“You realize that no man thinks that way?”
“That’s why you guys can be led around by your junk.”
“Point taken. And I do love it when you call my cock ‘junk.’ So sexy.”
“How about a winkie?”
He laughed. “Yes, that’s much better, thank you.”
“So, what are you guys doing?” She walked up and down the sidewalk, looked at the marquis pictures of the male strippers.
“Smoking a cigar, trying not to punch Paolo in his classic Italian nose. Ignoring my father.”
“You want to come meet me? It’s a dork smorgasbord here. A dorkgasbord, if you will.”
“That is beyond tempting, love. But I’ll stay here and probably drink too much.”
Allie stood in silence. She wanted to tell him she missed him. She wanted to tell him she loved him and never wanted to spend another night apart. But that’s not what Trevor wanted.
“Allie, are you still there?”
She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’d better get back inside. They’ll wonder where I am.” She hung up without waiting for his answer.
When she walked back into the club, a muscle-packed blond was straddling Pix while she shoved bills into his man panties. Allie winced and made her way back to the table.
Mags, released from her onstage exhibition, shimmied to the music and sat across from Allie. “You must get a lap dance darling, they’re so much fun.”
Allie glanced over at Pix, who spanked her bare-assed friend. He wore a flag G-string, a bomber jacket, and a pair of aviator sunglasses. “No, I’m good,” she yelled at Mags over the music.
Somewhere along the line, Mags had gotten ahold of a penis straw and now sipped her wine out of it. Allie’s eyes found Karen’s, and suddenly, she burst into a fit of laughter. Karen joined her.