“Well, what do ya know, I’m just here to dance too.” On any other day, I would’ve looked at this man twice, and maybe even taken him home. His navy-blue collared shirt makes his shoulders look nice and wide, and his jaw could cut diamonds,but tonight is my me night and he ruined it the moment he opened his mouth. A lot like Asshole, really.
Maybe Ishouldtake him home, just to fuck with my neighbor.
The cocktails mixed with the wine are affecting my decision making skills, and while I’m aware, I also don’t give a fuck.
Shrugging, I spin back into his body and dance with the six-foot man wholooksway better than he sounds or moves. The way he grabbed my arm is a red flag, I know this, but I can’t help the way it spiked something inside me. Excitement maybe. Either way, I’m willing to pretend I’m color blind; specifically the red-green kind…meaning red is green.
I love drunk logic.
Thirty minutes pass before he shoots his shot and speaks again as he continues to grind his hard dick into my ass with a dance version of Elton John blasting through the speakers.
“I have a ride waiting outside. Get your bag.”
“Forward much?” Pulling away is more difficult than necessary, but he concedes and allows me to turn in his arms to look up at him. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m going to stay and dance for a little longer.” I’ve had a lot to drink and I’ve been practically fucking him on the dance floor, but that doesn’t mean I owe him a damn thing. I don’t even owe him the explanation but I’m kind enough to grace him with one.
“Are you sure, baby?” He strokes his palms down over my ass, cupping it, then splays his fingers across my back. I can’t lie to myself, it feels good. Maybe I don’t want to dance by myself anymore.
“Mmm.” Turning and resting my head back against his chest, I decide…why the fuck not?
My body could do with the attention, and I won’t say no to an orgasm.
“Let’s go, baby.” With a weird but kinda sexy grinding walk, his dick positioned at my ass the whole way, we make it to the exit.
The fresh air does its thing and reacts with the alcohol in my system, making me realize I had a few too many cocktails tonight. Usually, I’ll drink until the light buzz makes me give zero fucks, but not enough that simply standing makes me feel seasick.
There’s a brief second where I want to go back inside to get my purse, but the long strap crushing my breasts means it’s hanging across my body. I already have it.
Not important.
Or is it?
I’m pulled from my mindless inner dialogue when the Tiny Dancer opens a car door for me and leads me into the back seat. As I’m putting on my seatbelt, I chuckle to myself. Tiny Dancer…I thought the nickname would be fun after the song we were just dancing to, but I’m now picturing this man on a table, as a miniature, doing a little jig while the giants all around him cheer him on, like that scene fromElla Enchanted.
He’s not actually tiny at all. He’s taller than me, but compared to my neighbor…he’s tiny.
Pfft. Tanner is too tall. Everyone is small compared to him. I should think of a new nickname for Tiny Dancer, or at least find out his real one.
Sitting next to me, his thick hand grasps my knee and slides upward as he leans in to kiss my neck, and I’ve got to be honest with myself: this feels all kinds of wrong. I’m wasted and acting like a fucking idiot with a guy that has displayed more than one red flag.
I pull away, lifting his hand from my thigh as though he’s a tiger that could pounce at any moment.
“I’m sorry, I can’t. I’ve had too much to drink. I can get my own cab.” My eyes at half-mast, I smile apologetically and reach for the handle. The car hasn’t begun moving yet, so I’m not about to die on the highway.
Faster than I can blink, he leans over and grabs my hand, stopping me from getting out.
“Are you telling me you’re a mother fucking cock-tease?” His features are all screwed up as he stares me down, practically over the top of me, and the driver of the cab just sits there, like I’m not being intimidated by what appears to be a psychopath in his back seat.
I’m too stunned to answer because technically, yes, I am a tease. But most of that is flirting, having fun, drunken, dull senses; none of that equates to a happy ending. His reaction is totally not cool.
The man forces himself on me, his lips pushing against mine so hard it hurts a little. Then he bites my top lip, drawing blood and making me yell out, giving him the perfect opportunity to shove his huge tongue into my mouth. Before I can return the bitey favor, he pulls away and slaps the side of my face.
“Go on then, cunt. Get the fuck out.” He opens my door himself and all but pushes me from the car, using his foot to kick me completely out, then slams the door behind me.
The car is moving by the time I’m fully standing, in shock and definitely ready to go home. I have a huge hole in the knee of my beautiful pants, and a bright red graze on the skin there, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a fat lip by morning.
Sobering up has never been so easy.
The car sits idle at the end of the street where there are less people and fewer streetlights, and I really don’t want to walk past it for fear of what I know will happen.
