Free Ladies Night by Christian Keyes Page A

highest quality, natural coils, sis-terlocks, and dreads. Their faces were beat and their hair was laid. You couldn’t tell them that they weren’t fierce.
    â€œAll right, all right. This is DJ Dime, your voice of reason to keep all you lovely ladies from going insane over what Club Eden’s got going on in here tonight.”
    The women reacted to her announcement. Their chants, hollering, and applause made the place sound as rowdy as a basketball playoff game.
    Amp looked around, trying to see who owned the jazzy voice with a hint of sultriness, but he hadn’t stepped far enough into the club to be in view of the DJ booth in the back corner of the room.
    â€œDim the lights in this place. And, ladies, I want all eyes on the spotlight. Give it up for the one, the only, Babyface.”
    On cue the lights lowered and a spotlight hit the stage. From behind the opening of the dark red velvet curtains appeared a muscular, caramel-skinned man. The diamond in his left ear was sparkling in the light. Standing around six feet tall, the oiled-up gentleman struck a pose, running a hand down his tight haircut. The ladies were whooping and hollering like he was a Greek god or something. He looked like a 23-year-old in the face, but there was no mistaking, from these grown women’s reaction, that they sure thought he was all man.
    The women were fanning themselves, reaching for him, whistling, and screaming his name. There seemed to be no embarrassment, and certainly no shame. This was their world. Babyface might have been center stage, but these women were definitely the real stars of the show. It was all about pleasing them.
    Amp figured out quickly that everything he’d seen so far—from the updated black-and-red décor to the come-hither look Babyface was giving the crowd—was designed to make these ladies feel beautiful. When Babyface locked eyes with a sister in the front row, Amp imagined she probably felt like she was the only woman in the room, and that every muscle he moved was to please her and only her. Unlike its former sports bar atmosphere, now it was a place where every patron was meant to feel sexy and desired. If their men at home hadn’t noticed the new hairdo or that new pair of shoes, not to worry. Tonight, they would be noticed.
    Amp watched a pair of red lace panties sail through the air and land at Babyface’s feet, and now Amp could place the scent he’d noticed when he first walked in. It was lust. Amp shook his head in disbelief. He’d heard of such scenarios at rock concerts or whatnot, but this was the first time he was witnessing it live. These women were out of their minds with lust. The dancers at Club Eden were rock stars in their own right.
    As the DJ played “Boots On” by Christian Keyes, Babyface began to dance to the sensual beat. When the artist crooned, “I know how to move to make you hot,” Babyface thrust his hips forward, and the women in the crowd went crazy. Babyface then started crawling closer to the end of the stage so that all of the ladies could get a better view as he moved his pelvis up and down, slowly and deeply, to the music. It seemed as if the women were in a trance, until he started gyrating faster and faster. Then it didn’t take long for them to start going into their purses and bras, pulling out bills and carpeting the stage with them. Dollars went flying until almost the entire stage was covered. Clearly red was the theme of the club, but green was the favorite color.
    Amp stepped farther into the club, still shaking his head in amazement at the level of arousal that had these women coming off of so much money just to enter the club, and then throwing even more on the stage. He wanted to learn more, so he headed toward the bar, hoping the bartender could lead him to Madam.
    As he walked over, a thought suddenly came to his mind. He looked back at the stage, where Babyface now had a woman wrapped around his