“It’s always the mean-looking guys who turn out to be pussycats.Is that what you are, a pussy cat?”They laugh.“Is kitty not playing tonight?”They take a step back.“Such a shame.I would have loved to have played with you.Next time.”They wink before gliding off into the crowd as I return my focus to Hayami, who is now on the move.
“I think she’s heading to the bathrooms,” Willa’s voice advises down the earpiece.
“You better go scope them out.Fuck knows what’s going on in there,” I instruct Willa, who agrees and pushes on through the crowd.
I tail Hayami as she weaves aimlessly through the partygoers, appearing as if she’s taking everyone and everything in.My stomach drops when she makes her way to the rear of the bar.
I’ve only ever been in this place once.I’d been sent to deliver a message to a guy who owed Devall money.I couldn’t find him on the dance floor or near the bar but had been told that he was here.I’d pushed on through the back of the bar only to discover a bank of booths hidden in the darkness and shielded from prying eyes.
After bypassing the booth with a woman grinding on the lap of some guy whilst another guy next to him waited his turn, I found the scumbag I was looking for.He was huddled in the corner of a leather seat, having his cock sucked by a woman with a mop of blonde hair that could have been a wig.Needless to say, the message was an easy one to deliver with him having his crown jewels hanging out.
But Hayami is heading straight for the booths.
She reaches the first booth, and I want to grab her, pull her away, tell her that this isn’t where she belongs.That this isn’t what she’s looking for.But there’s something in her eyes.Curiosity.Intrigue.I can’t bring myself to break the daze she appears to be in.She’s frozen, like she’s stepped into quicksand.Her eyes are trained on what’s going on under the cover of the dim lighting and the rhythmic music.
It takes an effort to tear my eyes from her.When I do, I see what’s caught her attention.A woman sits behind the rectangular table.Her eyes are closed, and her head sways.At a glance, anyone would think she’s kicking back, enjoying the music and relaxing, until I clock the guy next to her.His hand snakes under the table and is clearly between her legs.Her nipples peak through her sheer top.She licks her lips, then opens her eyes and stares at Hayami.
Hayami’s eyes widen, and I step forwards, ready to intervene, until the woman smiles at Hayami and softens her lips.I fight all my restraint to stampede over and drag Hayami away.Crooking her finger, the woman beckons Hayami to join them.She must sense Hayami’s reluctance, as she then pulls the neckline of her top down, exposing her breast, and begins to play with her nipple in the hope that Hayami will be tempted.
And there’s a second where I think she’s going to go and join them, but then Hayami looks at me, her cheeks flushed, eyes searching.And I can’t tell what she’s thinking.Is she asking for my permission?Is she waiting for me to step in?What the fuck does she want me to do?
Just as I’m about to ask, Willa arrives and places her hand on Hayami’s back.
“There you are,” she says as Hayami is brought out of her trance.“I thought you were heading to the bathroom.”
There’s a beat where Hayami appears to be composing herself before she speaks.“Yeah, I was.I got lost.”
Willa glances into the booth, the woman having covered herself up.
“Come on,” she beckons.“I’ll show you where they are.”
Hayami doesn’t look back at me as she follows Willa to the bathroom, and I’m left wondering what the fuck just happened.
ELEVEN
HAYAMI
PRESENT
There’sa bitter taste in my mouth.My tongue’s furry, like something’s growing on it, and my head feels like my brain is loose and sloshing around in my skull.This isn’t the first time I’ve woken up like this.
I try to recall what events led me here, but there’s a new sensation, one I haven’t felt before: a chill in my core, as if someone has frozen my insides, including my memory.
Flashes come back to me.
The club.
The beat of the music.
The guy’s hand on my leg.
Following him to the toilet.
The widening of his eyes as he pulled down the strap of my dress.
The tingle of his tongue over my nipple.
And even though his touch felt like sandpaper and his lips like jelly, I wanted it.It—nothim, justit.Because I want the touch of a man to be on my terms, not anyone else’s.
