I walked the rest of the way to the club. I’d checked online that they were still open, and I was pleased to see the information had been correct. Clubs came and went sometimes, and I’d pulled up to some that had gone under but hadn’t updated their online info yet. Or they rebranded, changing everything but their name, for better or worse.
This place was exactly as I’d left it. Same garish green-and-yellow neon signs outside. Same bead curtain between coat check and the lounge area. Same long bar tended by incredibly hot men.
In fact, I was pretty sure that blond at the second station had spent his break blowing me in the alley behind this place a year or two ago before we’d gone back to his apartment after his shift. From the way he grinned when our eyes locked—yep, that was him. Talented mouth, too; maybe I’d have to see if he was busy after his shift.
I wasn’t so sure if I wanted to wait that long, though. I was on a mission tonight that didn’t lend itself to hanging around until the place closed. Though if he had a break coming up…
Nah, even that wasn’t what I needed. I wasn’t here for a blowjob or a quickie.
I did get a drink from him, though, and we exchanged a few flirty looks. I tipped him well, and he leered at me in a way that made me think maybe Icouldwait until the club closed.
Maybe. If I didn’t find someone interested in a hookup before then, I was all his.
For now, step one—gethammered.
One cocktail and three shots in, I was feeling goodenough to hit the dancefloor. Well… “good.” I was getting to the point I had to stop and think about why I’d been so miserable earlier, so that meant I was on the right track. One more shot, and I was among all the men dancing to a song I probably could’ve identified sober. Eh. Whatever. It had a good beat.
I wasn’t the only one here on the prowl, either. It was easy to spot the guys who were here for more than just dancing; it wasn’t a predatory look per se, but it kind of was. That expression and body language that said this dancefloor wasn’t their final destination for this evening. The way their eyes raked over other men’s bodies. The touches that were clearly more than just a means of making contact while dancing. That blissed-out look of a man who was almost hypnotized by another’s scent and body and hands.
I made my way from one to another, slipping away between songs to throw back some more alcohol. My thoughts were getting hazy and the floor was tilting a little, so… perfect.
At some point, I found myself pressed up against a redheaded guy who looked at me and touched me like he wanted to devour me. As we danced without a sliver of space between our bodies, he slid his hands up and down my back, over my ass and hips—anything he could touch, he did, though he kept his lips just out of my reach. He didn’t strike me as someone who wouldn’t kiss me—some guys didn’t kiss hookups—but rather like he was teasing me.
I’ll kiss you,this closeness said,but not here. Not now.
God, I wanted his mouth.
I wantedhim. He was taller than me by an inch or two, and built thick and broad, not lean like a hockey player. He had gorgeous eyes, too, and a sexy-ass smile that made me wonder what else that mouth was capable of.
That mouth that kept hovering just out of my reach.
Needed to do something about that. Likenow.
We couldn’t hear a damn thing, but there were ways to communicate without speaking. A head tilt toward the back of the club accompanied by an inquisitive eyebrow lift. A grin and a nod in response. A hand on the small of my back, leading my weaving ass off the floor and through the crowd and into the back and?—
He had me up against the wall, his tongue in my mouth and his hard-on grinding on mine. He kissed deep and hard, almost bruising my lips, and I gripped the front of his shirt to beg him for more. I couldn’t hear either of us moaning, but I could feel the thrum of his voice, and oh, yeah, he was into this. So was I.
He broke the kiss and nipped the side of my neck. Then he found his way to my ear. “I wanna bend you over and pound you.”
I bit my lip, whimpering as my knees went slack. “Ooh, yeah.”
A low growl vibrated beneath the bass, and he rutted harder against me. “I’m gonna take you home, and I’m gonna—” He cut himself off by kissing me again, even more greedily and forcefully than before. My knees and spine had turned to liquid; if not for him pressing me up against this wall, I’d have melted to the floor at his feet.
And then he could just get down and fuck me right there.
Somehow I knew that wouldn’t happen—that this wasn’t where we’d end up screwing—but the thought drove me on. I slung my arms around his neck and opened to his kiss. Holy fuck, I wanted?—
Out of nowhere, a memory flashed through my hazy mind of how Peyton’s mouth had felt againstmine.
Of that dreamlike, drunken kiss I barely remembered and we both regretted.
For Christ’s sake. No. Don’t think about that right now.
Peyton isn’t here. This guy is here. I’m here. And I?—
Do I even want to be here?
Hands slid down between my back and the wall, and then gripped my ass firmly and pulled me harder against his erection. He ground hard against me as we kissed. Sloppy. Messy. Frantic. Primal.
