I turn abruptly, ready to land my beer back onto the bar, and a soft body bumps right into me. Bright eyes, wild long hair, bowtie lips twisted in a devious smile—that infamous feathered mask. The peacock princess has arrived after all. My adrenaline surges as she bites down on that sugared lip I’m determined to taste myself.
The music hikes up another ten decibels, which makes having a conversation an impossibility, but something about the way she’s smiling, gliding her body over mine in a rhythm all her own, lets me know a conversation of any kind won’t be necessary. There’s a girl in a pink feathered mask behind her, and she taps the peacock princess over the shoulder as she and a hooded man of her own head down the red hall of fame. The peacock princess takes up my hand and gives a firm squeeze, nodding down the hall before leading us right to the Panic Room.
And so it begins. It’s dark, but there’s enough of a crimson neon glow for me to find us our own little alcove complete with cuffs attached to a pole, and I don’t waste any time in gently lifting her hands up over her head and tucking them into the soft restraints. Judging by that ever-widening smile, this girl doesn’t mind one wild bit. Her hips grind into mine, and I lean in and nip at those lips I’ve been fantasizing about every damn day since the last time we met. And, dear God, if they’re not as soft, as sweet as I remember them, and then some. She tastes sugary sweet like a bowl full of fresh picked strawberries. Serena pops into my mind, and I quickly give her the boot.
The peacock princess hooks her leg around my waist and pulls me in, straining with all her might to steal another kiss, and I tease her, pecking at her, pulling back and grinning as I lose myself in her eyes. The dim lighting gives them a ferocious glow, and every last part of me approves of that fire in her. I’m ready to take her back to my place and watch the bedroom burn in our honor. I lean in, and her eyes widen a notch in anticipation. The crimson neon lights make her hair look a cartoonish shade of red, and I can’t help but think it gives her a superhero appeal. She looks perfect in every way—especially this way with her hands strapped high up over her head like an offering.
My lips brush over hers, and she does her best to squeeze me closer with her thigh. And I lose it. I kiss this mystery girl as if it were our last night on Earth, hard and long, dark, demanding kisses, a firm tongue-lashing that gives a glimpse of tongue-lashings to come—along with lashings I plan on gifting far more interesting parts of her body, and I can feel her moan along with her kisses as if she read my mind. This sweet tasting girl kisses right back, soft and easy,unsure, and something about her hesitancy only gets me going all that much more. There’s something about her that knows how to move me, something about us that knows how to move together.
I pull away and she bites down softly over my bottom lip, pulling me right back. And I can’t help but evict a husky groan as I lean in and gift her another well-deserved tongue-lashing. Every last part of me is craving so much more with this girl. I’m losing myself in the intensity of her mouth. The vigor at which she’s coming at me has set my boxers on fire. There’s something soft and easy about her as much as there is something determined and on fire.
The raucously loud music cuts out abruptly. The house lights flick on, far too bright and caustic, and we break apart trying to assess the melee.
A panicked looking dude sans a mask leans into the room and screams, “RAID!”
“Raid?” The girl struggles to free herself from the restraints as the room clears out in a blur of bodies.
No sooner do my fingers fidget with the restraints I’ve secured her with than a girl with dark hair jumps forward and whips off her pink mask.
“Serena, we need to get our asses out of—!”
A boy whisks the girl away before she can finish her sentence. But it’s too late. My blood has hit an instant boil. I recognized that girl from the Black Bear.
“Serena?” I pull up the peacock mask and holy shit. I pluck the ridiculous hood off my head, and she screams as if I just plucked her toes off along with it.
“Shit!” She knees me close to home and I twist just in time to avoid the maneuver.
“Shit is right.” I untangle her from the pole and take up her hand. “Come on. We need to get out of here. The last thing I need is for my license to be up for review.” Of all the stupid things I’ve done, this has topped the list for life.
“Who cares about your ridiculousreview. If Marlin and Lex find out you had me tied up to some stupid post, they’re going to kill me!”
I glance back and frown. “If Marlin and Lex find out I had you tied to a post, it’s me they’re going to kill, sweetheart.”
“Don’t you sweetheart me! And why the hell are they doing a raid to begin with?”
A swarm of cops come in with acrylic masks shoved over their faces, Billy clubs out, screamingget outat the top of their lungs, and I pull the two of us into a dark alcove. Serena lands her body up against mine, and I wrap an arm around her to keep her from falling back into view.
I shrug. “I’m guessing underage drinking.”
She sucks in a breath. “The club has a twenty-one or older cutoff, and my twenty-first birthday isn’t for another six months!”
“How the hell did you get in?” I can’t hide how livid I am, and not just because of the things we were inadvertently doing together, but if she wasn’t here with me, she would have been doing God knows what with God knows who.
She shrinks a little in my grasp. “Fake ID.”
“Great. You’re off on the right start in life, kid.” I glance back down the hall, and it’s notably empty. “Come on. We’re making a run for it.”
“Who you calling a kid!” she riots after me as we snake our way through the tunnel-like establishment until we hit a side door that swings open to a back alley. There’s no way I’m heading out the front door into the waiting firepower of the Jepson PD. Not that I’m afraid they’ll shoot on sight—not anyone else, that is. But if Marlin Maxfield spots me with his scantily dressed sister, I’m pretty sure shots will be fired—directly at me.
“You’re a kid, Serena,” I say, trying to catch my breath as we hit the warm balmy night air. The alleyway is empty save for a couple of girls laughing as they run from the club.
Serena pulls her phone out and grunts, “Great. Harley took off with Tyson, and she wants me to walk two blocks to meet her.”
“In this dump?” I pause a minute to take her in. Her hair is waving in the breeze, thick and wild and red as an angry bull. Serena is rather bullish, so the analogy isn’t all that off. That hair should have given her away, and if there was a modicum of lighting in that sex dungeon we were in, it would have. “You need better friends, Serena. Text her back and tell her I’ll get you home.”
Her fingers work quickly as I lead us to my car.
A couple of cops stroll this way, and both Serena and I take in a quick breath. I don’t hesitate pulling her behind an overgrown dumpster, and we crouch low to the ground. That wasn’t just any old cop walking the beat. That was Marlin with his hand on his weapon, and I’m sure he’s feeling a little trigger-happy right about now.
