He leans in, his hot breath fanning my ear as he laughs.
He doesn’t wait for an invitation.He places his hands on my waist, pulling me closer.
The music pounds.
The lights flash.
I close my eyes again, letting myself sway.
He smells of expensive cologne and cigarettes.
“Let’s go,” he murmurs my ear, the hot burst of his breath hitting my skin.
He tugs my hand, pulling me away from the dance floor, toward the wall near the end of the bar.I stumble after him, my legs unsteady.I bump into a high table, sending drinks sloshing.
A curse.A shove.I ignore it.
He’s pulling me further, toward the shadows of the corner.
He stops and turns, backing us against the wall.Before I can think, I press my body against his, hands finding the smooth fabric of his shirt to grip his shoulders.
A slow smile spreads across his face.“You’re a wild one, aren’t you?”he says, dipping his head, amused.“How is it I’ve not seen you here before?”
“What’s… your name?”I demand, my voice low.
His lips brush my ear.“Does it matter?”he teases.
I stare up at him, my vision blurring.I arch my back and grab a fistful of his shirt, my body now flush with his.His movements become more insistent.His hand slides down my back, lower…
Lower.
A squeeze.
Revulsion flares.A momentary urge to pull away.I crush it, forcing myself to stay lost in the moment.
This is wrong.
A small voice whispers in the back of my mind.I shut it out.
I need this.
This oblivion.This escape.This revenge.
Revenge…
James… Friday… This club…
“You will be here Friday… next… Friday?”I ask, my voice a slurred whisper, lips almost brushing his earlobe.
Suddenly, a hand grips my arm.A sharp, forceful tug that breaks my hold.
A roaring voice, familiar and furious, cuts through the music.“You’re done!”
My head snaps up, eyes struggling to focus on the figure looming over me.
Matthew…?
His face is a mask of barely controlled rage.His green eyes darken with an intensity I’ve never seen before.But it’s not directed at the stranger.It’s directed at me.
