Page 17 of Abundance of Obsession

The guy is sexy enough, charming, and likes to flirt. And he probably scores every single night he works.

Finally, I find my brain, which had dropped below my belly button, and say, “One sip isn’t enough to know if it’s worth it. Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll taste this poison, and then I’ll hit the dance floor. If I like it, I’ll come back later for more.”

Meanwhile, I pull a bill out of my purse and place it in front of him.

Keeping my gaze, he puts his hand on it and takes it. “Go ahead, beautiful. I’m here for you all night. You’ll be back.”

“We’ll see about that.”

Grabbing my drink, I hurry away into the sea of people, but before I do, I hear his laugh behind me.

The line between his confidence and arrogance is thin, and it’s a turnoff. Still, it’s nice to flirt with him, to loosen up my stiff bones a bit.

Without rushing, I circle the dance floor, watching the dancers. The women move their bodies to the rhythm of the music, for their own pleasure or for the pleasure of the men watching. The men, for their part, behave more like hunters here than anywhere else.

Observing this, I sip my drink.

When Niykee Heaton’s “Lullaby” plays, I set my half-finished drink on a nearby table and step into the crowd. The song’s rhythm makes my hips move on their own. My eyelids flutter shut, and my fingers trace my curves, a slow, deliberate dance that promises pleasure.

This moment is only for me.

Tension drains from the top of my head to my toes. Music flows through me, vibrating in every cell of my body. This feeling is all that matters, and I become lost in it.

My hands wander. I spin, sway my hips, and wiggle my butt. And I’m horny. Occasionally, people bump into me, and I don’t mind. This crowd now includes me.

I take another spin around my axis. In a split second, I lose my balance and already know I’m about to hit the floor. Yet before my body flies to the dance floor, a warm sensation wraps around my waist.

My vision swims, the room a blurry kaleidoscope of unfamiliar shapes and colors.

And I freeze.

His eyes…

Chapter 5

Zoe

Brown eyes. Pierced with golden flecks.

They seem familiar. But from where?

I search my memory. In vain.

My gaze wanders over his face. Caramel-colored skin and black hair long enough that he has combed it back and tied it into a short ponytail. Black eyebrows and short stubble of the same color give him a sharp expression.

He looks like trouble, the kind you get into and you only figure it out when it's too late.

Then I realize that his warm arms are still wrapped around me.

“Careful,” he says, and his voice is husky. It reminds me of—

Don’t think about him. Not now! Eli doesn’t exist tonight.

I place my hands on the stranger’s shoulders, and when I’m sure I’ll keep my balance, I slip out of his arms. Take a step back.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Perfect lips twist into a mysterious smile, and he laughs.