Johnny watches as some guy joins Becca at the table and she turns to face him. He looks like every other guy in here.
“OK, you’ve seen him. Ready to go?” Somehow I know he’s not coming with me right now, regardless of what he said earlier.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, waving me off and heading for the stairs. “I need to get a closer look.”
Yeah, sure. I have a feeling he’s not coming with me tonight at all now. Might as well just go home.
Just as I’m about to turn and go, I see someone in the crowd. Devon is on the dance floor, dancing with two women. One of them is clearly Xena, but it’s the other who surprises me. Is that Rhea? Holy fuck, she looks hot. Unexpectedly, my dick stiffens in my pants as I take in the way she moves to the music, bouncing and thrusting her hips into nothing. She certainly doesn’t look like a cop now. My body tells me to get over there and give her something to grind on, but that’s obviously a terrible idea. That woman is kind of a bitch, but there’s something about her I find intriguing.
When I notice the shirt she’s wearing, though, I know I need to talk to her. I mean them. I need to go talk to all three of them.
Plus, it would probably be rude of me to leave before I know for sure Johnny isn’t coming with me, right?
Chapter 7
Rhea -If He Follows Me Home Can I Keep Him?
It feels like we’ve been dancing for hours. I’m not sure when Devon showed up, but ever since he did, I’ve been feeling like a third wheel. Plus, I’m not nearly as good a dancer as he is. Also, thanks to Xena’s makeover, I’ve been fighting off guys half my age. Good for the ego, but annoying as fuck. They all smell like cheap cologne, desperation, and bad choices to me.
I motion to Devon and Xena that I’m getting a drink and take myself over to the bar. I’ve been pacing myself better since we left my apartment, but I’m still a little past tipsy. I order a double margarita and turn around to look over the crowd. Everyone here looks so young, but I suppose that’s probably because I’m well beyond the age of dance clubs. Of course, the young guys who’ve been attempting to grind on me this entire night don’t seem to care. Either they’re looking for a cougar or Xena did a better job making me over than I thought. The bartender taps me and hands my drink over. I suck it back in one gulp, feeling the burn of tequila all the way down my throat, and head back to the dance floor to resume my third wheel activities.
The tequila warms me from the inside, and I’m feeling pretty good, shaking my ass with the rest of the sweaty masses. I’m feeling so good, in fact, I let a guy dance with me. Of course, that turns out to be a bad idea. He pulls my back to his front, rubbing his body against me, trying to get me to grind against him, and just as I’m about to turn around and tell him he’s gone too far, when suddenly he’s pulled away. Before I can turn to see what’s going on, the body is replaced by another, one that feels familiar in a way I can’t define. One that I have no intention of pushing away.
“You’re wearing my shirt,” a man says in my ear, his lips brushing my hair, his hands on my hips as we continue to sway to the music. “It looks good on you.”
I spin around and discover Aiden. Is this guy seriously stalking me or what? I guess I know why he felt familiar, but why was I thinking I didn’t want to push him away?
“No, I’m pretty sure Xena stole this shirt from Devon.” I put my hands on my hips and tilt my chin up at him, daring him to argue with me. I know where this shirt came, and it wasn’t from this guy.
He laughs and leans in again. “I mean, you’re wearing a shirt with me on it.”
“What?”
He runs his finger down the image of the drummer on the front of my shirt, sending a pleasant rush of heat to my lady cave of wonders. Maybe he wants to go exploring?Damn it, Rhea. Stop it. He’s following you, you can’t be attracted to him.
“I am on your shirt. I’m the drummer for Sleeping Dogs. You are literally wearing a picture of me across your tits right now.”
The way he whispers to me about my tits makes me really wonder if maybe he does want to go exploring, but I still don’t believe that it’s him on the shirt. I try to hold it out from my body to get a better look at the drummer on the front, but it’s impossible from this angle.
I must be more than a little tipsy because what comes next is so far out there from anything I would normally consider doing, there’s just no other explanation.
I pull off my shirt in the middle of the dance floor, turn it around, and hold it up close to his face.
“Yeah, I still don’t think that’s you,” I say, closing one eye to help me focus and looking between him and the shirt. “But I guess if you want the shirt, you can have it. Your arms would look amazing in this, with all those muscles.” I grab his bicep and squeeze.
“No, that’s OK,” he tells me, his head on a swivel as he looks around a little frantically. “You can keep it. Why don’t you go ahead and put it back on?” He looks around some more, squinting a little. He must be drunk too, if he has to squint like that to see.
“Really? Don’t I look OK? Xena bought me this bralette, to go under that shirt because the arm holes are so big. She didn’t want me wearing one of my sturdier bras that I used to wear when I was a cop. I guess she thought they’d be too ugly or something. Did you know that I’m not a cop anymore?” I reach out and run my hands up inside the front of his t-shirt, telling him way more information than I should be. “You should put that other shirt on. I’ll help you with this one. Wow, you have some muscles under here. I’m impressed. You must work out a lot.”
He laughs a little. “Tell you what, let’s trade shirts for now. I’ll wear yours, you wear mine, and then I’ll tell you all about my workout. How’s that?”
“That is such a good idea. Best idea ever.” He’s being really nice and literally giving me the shirt off his back. My heart does a little flip-flop in my chest. No one besides Kaden’s family has ever been this nice to me before. It feels nice.
I watch as he peels his shirt off, but I don’t remove my hands from his abs. This guy is scorching hot. I wonder what he’d look like with the rest of his clothes off? Maybe I should see if he’ll follow me home? Why was I so hesitant to go out with him before? I mean, he shouldn’t have tried asking me while I was in the middle of arresting that dude, and he probably shouldn’t have tracked me down to the precinct after that, but… He’s a fucking hot guy. Like, probably the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.
“Here you go,” he says, slipping his shirt over my head and helping me get my arms through the sleeves. I tuck the front of this shirt in like I had the other one.
“Your turn,” I say, holding out the tank. “Bend down a little.”
