The lounge was rocking with clubbers ready to party hard on a Friday night.
While she could have told Addison, she didn’t want her sister and Hawk to know she was hooking up with Rebel again, so she mentioned she was reconnecting with an old friend.
The retina scanner at the back of the room cleared her to enter, and she stepped into the world of hedonistic delights.
In the first playroom, two women were having a rousing time. Watching the sexy scene didn’t do it for her, so she pushed on to the next room. A woman, dressed in leathers, was tying up a man using very intricate knots while he was suspended from the ceiling. Brit admired the performance, but this scene didn’t do it for her either.
To her surprise, even the foursome in the Farmer’s Daughter’s playroom wasn’t revving her engine. Yes, she likedwatching, and, yes they were sexing-up each other pretty good, but her thoughts were elsewhere. Ever since getting Rebel’s text, she hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but him.
I need Joaquin. His large hands claiming me, his hardness inside me.
It was that simple.
She returned to the main room where she ordered a glass of wine at the bar.
The guys sitting next to her glanced over. “How’s it going?”
“It’s going,” she replied.
“Are you a member?” he asked.
“I’m meeting someone.” Brit pulled her phone from her pocket and checked to see if Rebel had texted her.
The guy leaned close. “I got a room reserved upstairs. Wanna share it with me?” His disgusting nacho breath made her stomach roil.
“No,” Brit replied.
“I get that,” he said. “That’s cool. We can hang.”
A different bartender swung by. “Can I get either of you anything to eat?”
“I’m good,” Brit replied.
“I’ll take another brewsky,” said the man before turning toward Brit. “What’s your name?”
Refusing to pay him any more attention, Brit shook her head.
“C’mon, girlie. It’s Friday night. I’m here. You’re here. We could be upstairs doing the horizonal.”
“Don’t serve him,” growled someone behind her.
That familiar zing of attraction hummed through her, the timbre of Rebel’s deep voice made her feel alive… and safe.
The customer spun around so fast, he almost fell off the stool. “What’s the problem, my man?”
“You’re drunk, she’s not interested.” The edge to Rebel’s tone made Brit tingle with anticipation.
Confidence radiated off him. When he peered into her eyes, something she’d never felt before passed between them. The intensity of their connection scared her.
“You okay?” he asked.
“I’m good,” she replied.
The patron slid off the barstool. He stood eye-to-eye with Rebel, but his large gut outweighed Rebel by a good fifty pounds.
“Get the line manager,” Rebel said to his bartender before addressing the clubber. “You choose. Sober up here or go home in a rideshare.”
The guy put his arm around Rebel. “I was talking to this hot thing. She and me, we was hitting it off goooood. She’s going upstairs with me.”
