Red is the color I choose.I love Madi in it. Her caramel blond hair in a high slit spaghetti string dress. She must have on shapewear because her hourglass is pronounced. The sheer tights match, the stilettos too.My suit is crochet with lace red, black dress shirt underneath. A gold belt and watch to match.  

The limo is a club lit up neon red. A party vibe. Leather seats and a stripping pole. We have a long drive ahead. 8 hours. I'd rather not fly;I want the world to see how glamorous she looks. The flashing cameras don't ignore me. I'm proud of the prize I have. My fiancé. My sugar devil.  

The press stalks the limo onto the street. Not caring when it drives off. The mob sprints; holding their cameras high. The ceiling is tall. The vehicle is more like a room than anything. A strip club on wheels. 

Madi's ruby lips are painted to perfection. I noticed she added a beauty mole; as Marilyn Monroe did. Her hair is layered in curls the same as the 1950s bombshell. I love it. She stares me down steamily. I guess my analyzing has her panties wet. "What are you thinking?" 

"I'm just enjoying how hot you are."

Her ocean eyes dart to the pole. "I want to enjoy you too. Maybe you can put on a show."

I focus on the strip pole. Debating. Do I want to revisit my wild days? Days when there were nothing but parties and sex. When I was at my worst. I truly was a satyriasis, the male version of a nymphomaniac. My strip shows always led to fucking. I'm not sure if that habit is gone. "No...you're not ready for my wild side." 

"Why not?" Madi swishes her hips as she nears the pole. Her bloodshot nails claw around the metal beam. Her pink tongue parts her lips like bubble gum. 

The pink against the red lipstick shuts off my mind. All the blood from my brain drains to my cock. I'm thankful for the flashing lights from the sidewalks. This saves me from an animalistic impulse. I can't go caveman around cameras. I find my voice. "Because we're not alone...and you're not ready." 

She huffs and pouts. "Party pooper." Madi sits and folds her barbie legs. The fishnet tights awaken my dick; it flinches against my will.

My phone vibrates. It's Velma. Why is she calling? I answer. "What is it, Vel?"

"Are you serious??! Put Madison on the phone."

Why is she so mad? I opt for speaker phone rather than let my baby fight this argument on her own. I guess my furrowed brows were enough to alert Madi. She stands and approaches the phone. We both watch the screen. "She's right here."

"I specifically told you two about the wardrobe situation. Why are you half naked Madison?!" Velma rages. "You should have called me!"

Madi evil eyes the phone, her heart rate is heightened. I can tell by her heavy breaths. "I assumed this was a personal outing! I didn't think I needed to involve you, since this isn't a televised appearance."

"Everywhere you go will be televised! I've hired stylists, we discussed this!"

"I know, we did!" Madi retorts, frustrated. "I explained my part."

"Your explanation is invalid! Anytime you step outside the door, you call me 3 hours ahead of time. What you're wearing is unacceptable!"

Is she serious??? "It's a tango dress, Velma," I explain as if she's slow-minded. "I'm not sure if you're aware of the attire for a competition, so please do your research. This night has been set in place far before I hired you as Madi's PR. Meaning, you're operating beyond your jurisdiction. Therefore, this night isn't your burden. Don't call again." I hang up.

Madi crosses her arms and sighs. "She just kept yelling, she's ridiculous!"

"Very..." I take her by the arms and pull her close.

"This is private...she acts like we can't have fun."

"I know...it's bullshit. But that's fame." She frowns. "Hey..." I kiss her. "Don't let her spoil the night." I comfort.

"You're right...I'll forget about it." She lets out a harsh exhale. "We're going to Vegas."

"Yes, we are." I grin teasingly.

"And what happens in Vegas." Madi wiggles her eyebrows, egging me to finish the phrase.

"Wow...you're so corny." I chuckle.

"Stays in Vegas, baby!" She raises the roof.

"You and your mom love that dance, huh?"

"Yep." She continues with the arm motion.  

Vegas is gold and black at night. The attractions of the strip stun Madison. The welcome sign wows her.The palm trees. 

The Luxor Hotel &Casino. its Egyptian statues and pyramid theme. The tip of the pyramid shoots pillars of blue light into the sky.  

The Bliss Dance statue; 40 feet tall. Purple and pink. It shines with thousands of LED lights.  

The High Roller Ferris Wheel glows purple against the dark sky. 

The Mirage hotel. Its replica of a volcano is beyond impressive. The fire blasts and tribal drumming gives an ancient gladiator vibe.   

The Grand Canal is pure blue under a grand bridge; castle-esque and foreign in appearance. A dedication to the region of Macao. Tourists ride riverboats down the canal. The Vegas strip is full of showgirls in sexy feather costumes and headpieces. Street performers, singing live and displaying magic tricks to awe the crowds. 

I adore how her sapphire eyes lock onto a man juggling fire torches. I can tell she hasn't traveled much. Meaning everything is new to her. Although I've been everywhere, I'll feel like a beginner again, with Madi by my side. This is going to be fun. We arrive at a mansion, owned by a couple I used to swing with. I would tell Madison about this, but she might think less of me. It's hard to know if she's accepting of my time with men. Although I think she's onto me. I can't tell. Either way, it was a short-lived period. I had to fix that problem. I did successfully. Now there's no yearning. No Temptation. 

The hosts are men who are considered twinks in the gay community. Cute as buttons and small in stature. Pierre and Nicky.  

The husbands greet lines of guests. Everyone is dressed to impress. Sensual dresses and lacy suits. The mansion's interior is black, gold, and red. Brothel styled with a hint of charm. Thousands of dancers pile into a ballroom the size of a football field. The music is tango club, modern, and R&B. 

Gotan Project - Last Tango In Paris. 

I notice Madison is getting stared down by salty exes. I know they're wondering why she's special. Picking her apart with envy. Madi isn't my type according to these shallow women, who paid for every curve on their bodies. 

"Don't pay them any attention." My bunny grins victoriously at the group of jealous women, then pulls me into her lips. Oh, I like this. She's territorial. Her harsh mouth on mine displays her ownership of me. She inaudibly speaks the words, "he's mine", with every brush of our lips.   

MADISON

I should be mad that eight women are steaming at me, but I'm not. Their Jace's old playthings while I'm wearing a ring. My best response is to rub it in their faces by making out. It's hot and all...but how many more are here? I can't do this all night, my lips will chap. I draw from his mouth and take his hand and guide Jace away. Kinda like a pet. I'm sure to let the bitches see my diamond, so I hold my palm their way as I pass.  

My body is snatched tonight. Of course, it's not as thick and curvy. It's tight and natural. It's not my fault Jace passed them up as his wifey. He probably got sick of identical women. Overdone makeup and ridiculous body proportions. 

I lead Jace to a refreshments table. Bottles of wine and beer line it. "I'd rather do that than not pay attention." I flirt.

"This is my lucky night."

"It is."

"I bet that was just only round one."

"It was." I reach for a bottle of beer and snap it open. "If you were a superhero, your name would be Dick-Man." Jace laughs. "Is that why you attended therapy?"

"No, but I should have added that to the list."

I sip the beer. "Seems like you're a nymphomaniac."

"Something like that."

I drink, thinking if I can satisfy him enough to curb his appetite. Jace slept around so much for a reason. I wonder why? Is he just a pig? Or is there something deeper? I could ask about his therapy session. That may help me with an answer. "Why did you attend therapy?" I ask lightly enough to sound curious instead of demanding. I hold eye contact. 

Jace stares at me calmly. "For personal reasons."

"Family?"

"Family and business reasons. I had to change to better adapt."

That's a generalized answer. I guess it's too personal. We still have to build trust, it seems. The club tango music fades. The two hosts draw everyone's attention. God, they're so beautiful! I can't stop admiring. "Welcome to The Sizz Competition! Thank you all for returning this year." A puppy eyed, bushy haired one speaks. His French accent is adorable. "The tango challenge will begin in 15 minutes." 

The crowd applauds. The ballroom erupts with whistles and hoots. Many couples wear masquerade masks. Each range from every color of the rainbow. The material isn't cheap, I'm sure the masks are made of diamonds. The dark neon lighting turns each into disco lights. The hosts smile excitedly. Their affectionate touches prove they're a couple. How close they stand side by side. Their clasped hands hold wedding bands. The husbands venture through the crowd, full of enthusiasm. It's contagious. I can't help but return it. I'm noticed by the pair. I'm guessing because I don't have on a mask. 

The other one, who seems American, gazes from me to Jace. He's tall, toned and black haired. The gaze isn't brash, it's actually inviting. I can tell this one recalls Jace. The familiar look in his blue eyes reveals this. I glance at Jace to get a read. There's a light grin on his lips. "Quick, what's their names?" I ask hurriedly. 

"Pierre and Nicky." Jace replies quickly as the couple joins us. "Hello, dear hosts." He greets.

"Hello, Jace." Nicky, the American one, greets. He flashes a wide smile. He's a miniature version of Jace. Slimmer with a sharper jawline. There's attraction in his eyes. Uh oh...is this another guy suffering unrequited love? God damn, Jace. Is he cursed with desire??? 

"Hellooo." Pierre prolongs the word as if singing a high note. "Lovely to see you again, Mr. Harrison." This one has innocent eyes. His energy is childlike. and omg...he's spelled by Jace as well! 

"Nice to see you two again." Jace speaks respectfully.

"Yes...it's been a while since we've had fun." Nicky flirts.

My eyes widen. Oh! He just hinted at something! Do I have proof of Jace being bisexual??? The obvious pleasure from the two is pointing in that direction. Although, I'm not sure. "Yes, it has. With business and being engaged, I've barely had time for fun." Jace wraps his arm around my waist. "This is Madison." 

"Lovely to meet you." Pierre waves adorably. "Congratulations!"

"Thank you." I beam.

"Welcome, Madison. I hope you enjoy the night. I know Jace usually does." Nicky hints cleverly. There's definitely something I'm missing. "We await the RSVP; the wedding will be spectacular!" Nicky shares a dazzling smile with me. As he steps off, his eyes lock on Jace's. There's a flicker of feistiness. My brows shoot up. The husbands step away, dissolving into the crowd of dancers. 

I'm too bewildered to be jealous...or offended. This shit is spicy as hell! I don't consider Nicky a threat. I consider him another addition to the gay spank bank in my mind. I turn to Jace. For some reason, he's avoiding my eye line. He grabs a beer, pops it open, and stares off past the crowd. Drinking. His mind is somewhere else. I observe him.  

Why is he being weird? He wasn't this way with Dorian. Maybe Nicky was too straightforward. I'm guessing now isn't the time to ask about his sexuality. Although, it wouldn't bother me. I'll see him as the same person, regardless of his sexual identity. I've been doing the same with my bestie. I don't see her as a gay person; I see her as Lily. I never label her. I accept her how she is. No doubt. No questions. No lack of respect. 15 minutes pass.  

Everyone gathers at the dance floor with their partners. Jace is still quiet. And has been since Nicky left. He drank his beer and brooded the whole time. I want to ease the tension by making a joke. But I don't want to push the wrong button by turning the ordeal to something funny. Jace is obviously mad at the guy.  

Why? Is he ashamed? Now that I think about it. He may be. There's no account of him ever being with a guy. If he's bisexual. It's hidden well. Or he's in the closet. Whichever it is. I can't force him to address it. He will when he's ready. 

There are plenty more salty bitches on the dance floor. More than half of them mug me down. I smile and blow kisses to throw them off. This rattles them up like venomous snakes. Kill them with kindness. "Remember, there's a switch off." Jace breaks his silence. "I'll remind you when."

"Alright." 

A slowed version of I Don't Know Your Name by Rosenfield bumps theballroom.  

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