<span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 14pt;"><strong>Lauren Embry</strong></span><br/><br/><br/>(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/4/46/Trilby_Paradise_Lauren01.jpg)<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>In spite of Lauren’s admonition, Monica turned completely around and gave the men at the bar a good long look.  Lauren’s eyes went wide, and she put a hand over her mouth to stop the giggles.<br/><br/>“Monica!  I just can’t believe you!”  But as shocked as she was, she was still delighted that her friend had the balls to do something so bold and so brassy.  That was Monica all over -- she knew what she wanted, and she went after it.  She was like the kid in school that always did what they were told they shouldn’t, and the rest of the class couldn’t help but follow.<br/><br/><em>"I'd guess a couple of years older than Todd," </em>Monica answered her, and a slow, fierce smile curled up the corners of her mouth.<br/><br/>“Are they looking back?” she asked in a whisper.<br/><br/><em>“Come on, Lauren ... imagine the possibilities…  Want to buy them a drink?  Ask them over?  Or we can see if they're bold enough to come on over without being invited."</em><br/><br/>Lauren hesitated for just a moment, balanced precariously between prudence… and adventure.  But with Monica standing on the far side and daring her to jump, it was never really much of a contest.  On her own, Lauren could imagine a drink with one of the older men at the bar: a little casual conversation, maybe he would walk her back to the hotel.  A little more conversation.  A discreet good-night kiss.  And not much more than that.  She just couldn't see it.<br/><br/>But the two boys who were looking at her and Monica… she could imagine way, way more.  Yes, she could.  Very suddenly, with the impact of a freight train, she could see it clearly, not only possible, but probable.  That young body between her thighs, her legs on his shoulders or locked around his waist, that dark head trailing kisses and bites and God knows what else down her body, doing things to her that she’d only read about…<br/><br/>“Oh, you are bad,” she trilled to Monica gleefully, excitement and disbelief equally bright in her eyes.  She took a long swallow from her beer, and turned towards the two boys.  She dropped one elbow over the back of the chair, and set her chin in her hand, giving them her best “come hither” smile.  "Maybe we should send them a drink?"<br/><br/>But damned if they didn’t take the decision right out of their hands! They both got up, the two of them, and started walking towards their table.  The handsome, dark-haired one was taking the lead.  Lauren swiveled again in her seat, crossing her legs with an air of innocence that wasn’t completely feigned.  For her efforts, she got a lingering appreciative look; but it was Monica that his eyes kept going back to.<br/><br/>Well, of course it was Monica.  Monica was Veronica; Lauren was Betty.  Without either rancor or disappointment, Lauren turned her smile on her second choice.  The quiet blonde one.<br/><br/>They were Brett and Gabe, and Brett’s opening line was maybe the oldest one Lauren had ever heard.  She looked at Monica with a raised eyebrow just the same, as though there was something to be decided.  As if they weren’t here to make the opening moves in this exact dance.  Gabe wasn’t exactly what Lauren had imagined, but he was way more Possible than any of the middle aged men at the bar who had probably left their wives in some suburban ranch house and their wedding bands in their hotel rooms.   Gabe was just as pretty as Brett.  He just lacked the sheer, formidable, apex predator confidence that just oozed out of Monica and Brett with every breath.  But then, so did Lauren.  Of course Monica was the one Brett was drawn to.  The two of them had both come from the same mold.<br/><br/>She patted the chair beside her.  “I guess we could do with some company,” she said sweetly.  “Gabe, you sit right here by me.”<br/><br/>She wasn’t sure, in her own mind, just how far she would take this.  It would all depend, she supposed, on chemistry.  And on how long her nerve held out.<br/><br/>“You boys are down here on Spring Break?” she asked.  “From where?”<br/><br/>Oh, ugh.  The second oldest line in the world.  If there was a God in heaven, she hoped he’d strike her dead on the spot if she opened her mouth to ask what their signs were.<br/><br/><br/>