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attention was caught by a young girl who was swinging her entire frail looking body around the slim, silver pole in the middle of one of the dancing podiums. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty-two, maybe twenty-three. Her intense stare never left my eyes as she moved graciously around the pole, her slender arms holding her weight in positions I would never have thought possible. Dressed only in a red laced bra with a matching thong that barely covered her modesty, she swung her legs high as her hands gripped tightly at the sparkling steel, before opening them wide into a fully split position and holding her pose while she invited me with her eyes. I readjusted myself in my trousers beneath the table as the evidence of my arousal pressed uncomfortably against the seam of my fly just before Ryan’s voice snapped me back to the here and now.
    “Lose the fucking look, Julian. You’re engaged to be married, or had you completely forgotten that detail?” Ryan’s tone was stern and unwavering, but his eyes didn’t meet mine, his focus remained on the glass he was vacantly spinning around on the table.
    I had been doing a grand job of forcing Emily from my thoughts for the past half an hour. Not anymore, I guess. Ryan seemed strangely protective of Emily, I wondered why.
    “What has it got to do with you, exactly?” I snapped as I felt my fist clench involuntarily.
    “Nothing at all, but you’ll regret this in the morning. Or whenever it is that you sober the fuck up!” He was glaring at me now, his slightly squinted eyes barely readable through their narrowed appearance.
    “Fuck off, Ryan. I don’t need a babysitter! I make my own decisions!”
    “I’m aware of that, Julian. That’s just your problem; you don’t listen when people are trying to help you. Your decisions aren’t always the best ones.”
    “I don’t need your fucking help!”
    Who the fuck did he think he was, Mr. High and Mighty. No, I had never asked a single person for any help in all of my life, and no, I also wasn’t in need of any. What the fuck? Why was he all defensive all of a sudden, anyway? He had witnessed me behaving like a tart on many of occasions; it had never bothered him before now. What was it about Emily that made him feel the need to protect her?
    “Why do you care so much about Emily?”
    “I don’t,” he replied simply before drawing a long sip of water from his glass.
    “You’re a fucking liar!’ I snarled through gritted teeth, my jaw aching under its sudden pressure. “Come on, what is it? You fancy her, is that it?” I leaned across the table toward him, using my elbows for support, taunting him with everything I had.
    “Don’t be fucking stupid, Julian. And don’t speak to me like that. I’m not one of your whores!”
    “Why? Come on, I want to know why you’re so desperate to protect my fiancée,” I sneered, emphasising the word ‘my’.
    “I’m not trying to protect her , Julian. If you opened your fucking eyes for once in your life you’d see that it’s you who I’m trying to protect.”
    “I’m not asking for your protection. I can look after myself.” Ryan simply shook his head and blinked slowly.
    A sudden movement caught my attention from across the dance floor and I turned and refocused on the nearly naked girl, forgetting entirely what I had just been shouting at Ryan about. As she slipped down the pole, landing elegantly on her feet at the bottom, I locked my gaze on her eyes and flashed my most dazzling smile. Her thin lips quirked up in response. She lifted herself up again using only her hands, her eyes never leaving mine, and I knew instantly that I could have her. And judging by the position in which she was now hovering in - it could be quite good fun.
    “And how do you intend on doing that, Julian? By destroying the one and only good thing that’s ever happened to you? Last night you were willing to give your life for her and tonight you’re creeping around a