Tonight, I only wanted to only think about good things. And that didn't include bounced checks or missing home-owners.
By the time we hit dessert, I'd pushed the Parkers completely out of my mind. They were gone, and Lawton was here. Being with him, even after all that had happened, was like a dream.
Sometimes people recognized him. Sometimes they didn't. But no matter who was around us, he only had eyes for me. We left the restaurant a little after nine and hit a comedy show at one of the downtown casinos.
In the car afterward, Lawton was navigating the city streets when he turned to me and said, "Want to hit a club or something?"
I looked down at my jeans and simple blouse. "I'm not really dressed for it."
He laughed and glanced down at his own clothing. "Like I am."
I gave him a good, long look. His left hand rested loosely on the steering wheel while his right elbow rested on the center console. Even in relaxation, the tattoo-covered muscles shifted with the smallest movement of the vehicle, showing off the lines and ridges of his amazing physique.
His clothes were simple, just dark jeans and a black T-shirt, but his appearance was anything but.
His clothes didn't have to be satin, silk, or some designer brand. His mere presence spoke for itself, making Lawton look like a million bucks in what could've been a ten-dollar shirt for all I knew.
I recalled what was under that shirt. I'd pressed my face against his naked chest how many times now? However many times it had been, it didn't feel like enough.
As if feeling the heat of my gaze, he turned his head in my direction. His gaze was electric, and he gave me a grin so heart-stopping that I felt my lips part as if waiting for a kiss.
"Baby," he said. "It doesn't matter what you wear. You'll be the most beautiful girl in that place." He turned his attention back to the road. "And you know what? If anyone gives you shit about what you're wearing, they'll have me to answer to."
I couldn’t help but laugh. "What are you gonna do?" I said. "Beat 'em up if they tell me no jeans allowed?"
In profile, I saw him smile. "Depends."
"On what?"
"How nicely they tell you."
I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, well the fashion police can be really brutal."
I was only half kidding. It was part of the reason I shopped at consignment stores. The clothes might've been secondhand, but they were almost always the right cut and label.
"There's this new place off Six Mile," he said. "A friend of mine's a bouncer there." He gave me a sideways glance. "And I'll tell you what, if he doesn't agree that what you're wearing is the sweetest stuff he's ever seen, I'll personally kick his ass."
I pretended to give it some thought. "I dunno," I said through laughter I couldn't quite contain. "He's not a big guy, is he? Because I sure don't want you getting hurt on my account."
As we pulled up to a red light, Lawton put a hand to his heart. "Now I'm hurt." He made a strangled, choking sound as the car came to a stop. "Might. Be. Fatal." He groaned. "Need. Mouth. To. Mouth." He flopped his head back onto the headrest and closed his eyes.
I glanced at the light. It was still red, but for how long. "Very funny," I said.
He didn't move.
"C'mon," I said with another nervous glance ahead, "the light's gonna turn."
He gave a low groan. "Almost. Gone."
"You are such a –" I laughed as I tore off my seatbelt and moved toward him. "Damn it, I don't know what you are." When our lips met, he came magically to life, moving his lips against mine in a way that sent a bolt of heat straight to my core.
I felt his hand in my hair and his tongue against mine. The next strangled moan was my own, as I felt my insides combust and my knees tremble.
A car horn sounded behind us, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I pulled away and looked toward the light, now green. There were several cars behind us. The horn sounded again, followed by another, probably from the vehicle behind them.
I jumped back into my seat. "Go!" I said.
"Not 'til you buckle up."
I fumbled for my seatbelt, listening to the cacophony of horns behind us. When the seatbelt snapped shut, Lawton floored it, leaving the other vehicles in the dust. I glanced behind us. The light was red again, and the horns were still blaring.
The driver of the car behind us was giving us the middle-finger salute. Lawton rolled down the window and gave the driver a casual wave.
"Oh my God," I said through choked laughter. "You're trying to get us killed."
He turned to give me a grin. "Never," he said. "The club's up here on the left. What do you think?"
I thought of how it would feel to have Lawton pressed up against me, our bodies grinding to the beat of whatever – slow song, fast song, hell, a damn polka. I wanted to feel him against me. And I didn't want to wait until we got back.
"Count me in," I said.
Chapter 39
The club was jam-packed with a line out the door – not that we waited in it. Whether it was because Lawton knew the bouncer or simply because of who he was, we bypassed the line and were ushered straight inside.
Behind us, I heard a few muttered grumbles of those left waiting, but Lawton took my hand, and we just kept going. A flash of cash and a few words from Lawton netted us a newly placed table right near the dance floor.
We ordered a couple of drinks from a harried-looking waitress, and Lawton turned to me. "Wanna dance?"
I looked around. "Shouldn't we wait until we have our drinks?"
"Why?" he said.
"So no one steals our table."
He laughed. "Baby, no one's gonna steal our table."
"How do you know?"
"Because I paid 'em an extra fifty to keep it free."
"Who's them?" I asked.
He pointed toward a beefy guy standing with arms crossed a few feet away. "Him."
"I didn't see you talking to him."
"I worked it out with my friend."
"The bouncer?"
"Yeah."
I vaguely recalled them sharing a greeting and a few hushed words, but mostly I remembered Lawton introducing me as his girl with a look of such pride that I practically melted.
"I don't want you to worry about anything tonight," Lawton said. He stood and reached for my hand. "Now c'mon. Ready?"
I looked up at him, a silhouette of absolute perfection. His body, his face, and the way he looked at me sent a jolt of electricity straight through me. Nearby, a couple of girls in slinky dresses whispered to each other and pointed. One of them licked her lips.
I stood. I was more than ready.
A few second later, we were moving against each other on the dance floor. I felt his hands on my hips and his gaze on my face. The song was slow, with a rhythmic beat that suggested sex on the beach under a full summer moon.
I moved closer, feeling our hips touch and then grind against each other as his hands moved slowly up my back. I moved my hands to his sides, feeling the sinewy muscles surrounding his stomach shift and contract in time with his movements.
I threw back my head and looked into his eyes. The floor was packed, but from the look on his face, there was nobody but us. I knew the feeling.
When the song ended, and a faster one took its place, we didn't change position. I leaned closer and rested my head against his chest. It felt so strong, so permanent, and so amazing that I knew I'd never want to leave. Not when the song ended, and not ever.
We stayed that way for a long time, oblivious to everything but each other as songs came and went, just like the dancers around us.
Finally, thirst got the better of me. I glanced through the gyrating bodies toward our table and saw our drinks sitting there, waiting. With a sigh, I pulled away and pointed toward the table. "Look. Drinks."
But he didn't look toward the table. His eyes looked thirsty, but not for the beer he'd ordered however long ago. "Yeah? Ready to sit down?"
When I nodded, he took my hand and
led me to the table. I took a sip of my drink and choked as the fire burned down my throat.
He eyed me with concern. "What's wrong?"
I was still coughing. "I think they made it a double. Wait. Scratch that. Make that a triple."
He grinned. "Probably thought they were doing you a favor."
I laughed. "Maybe. But it's not exactly thirst-quenching, if you know what I mean."
"Want me get you a new one?"
I looked around. I didn't see our waitress. In fact, I didn't see any waitresses. No surprise, given how crowded the place had become. "Nah, that's alright," I told him.
"You think so, huh?" He stood and reached for my drink. "Wait here. I'll be back in five minutes."
I watched his back disappear into the crowd, thinking of how nice it was to have a guy who'd go to this much trouble without my even asking. A glance at our neighboring tables told me I wasn't the only one. Girls, guys – it didn't seem to matter. Something about him commanded their attention.
Did they recognize him? Or was it merely his appearance that made people sit up and notice? I tried to think of him as a stranger might. I recalled that first day, near the Parkers', when I'd walked past him, standing there wearing no shirt.
Back then, he was sex and danger. Now he was that, and so much more.
That day, I hadn't even recognized him. But something inside me had definitely responded. Lawton was just that way. People loved to look at him. I felt myself smile. Of course, they could look all they wanted, but I knew who would be touching him tonight, and it wasn't any of these people.
Still smiling, I stood to go to the ladies room, hoping to make the most of the time he was gone. I glanced at the beefy guy near the dance floor. He had barely moved since Lawton had first pointed him out to me. The way it looked, he took his table-watching seriously.
When he saw me looking, he gave me a quick nod, and glanced toward the table as if to assure me that everything would still be there when I returned.
I started weaving my way through the crowd. When I glanced at our table the next time, the guy had his back to me, watching over the table like he feared it might escape if he took his eye off it for one second.
The whole thing was oddly surreal. I wasn't used to people doing things for me, even something so small as this. It felt weird and wonderful all at the same time.
Unfortunately, the next person I ran into wasn't quite so accommodating.
Chapter 40
I was still looking back at the table when I bumped into someone. Hard. I looked up. It was a massive guy, at least seven feet tall, with a gold earring and a thick, tattooed neck.
"Sorry," I said, shifting to move around him.
But when I moved, he moved in exactly the same direction, blocking my path with a low chuckle. Something about it sent an odd shiver down my spine.
I glanced around. There were too many bodies and no easy path to get around him, so I put my hands on my hips and glared up at him. "What's your problem?" I said.
He looked down on me and smiled, revealing gold grillwork over his front teeth. "So you're the new one?" he said.
"The new what?"
"The new chick." He said "chick" like it was a social disease. "Lawton's squeeze."
"Hey!" I said, "I'm no one's squeeze."
Slowly, his gaze traveled down the length of me, stopping way too long in certain places. "No? You can be my squeeze, once he's done with you." With a deranged smile, he sidled forward. "Or maybe you don’t wanna wait."
Without thinking, I took a step backward, bumping someone behind me. I spun around and jostled a tall girl with big hair and too much lipstick. She was holding two drinks. One of them hit the floor. The glass shattered against the hard surface. "Hey!" she hollered. "Look what you did!"
"Yeah," said the big guy. "Look what you did."
Ignoring the girl, I whipped back around to face him. I craned my neck upward, trying to decide of I should back up slowly, or run like hell.
But suddenly, a wall appeared in front of my face. I recognized that wall.
It was Lawton's back.
I'd never been so glad to see anything in all my life. The lean, corded muscles in his neck and arms were a stark contrast to the hulking guy in front of him. Still, I felt myself swallow. The guy in front of Lawton was so much bigger. Scary bigger. I didn't know what to do. Find a bouncer? Call for help?
Frantically, I looked around.
"Baby," Lawton said over his shoulder. "Go back to the table. I'll meet you there in a minute."
And leave him alone? No way. I mean, I knew I was no use in a fight, but no way I'd just run away like I didn't give a crap what happened to him.
Because I cared. I cared a lot.
Behind me, I heard the girl's other drink hit the floor. "Oh my God," she said. "Is that Lawton Rastor?"
The big guy obviously heard, because he bellowed out, "Hey, everyone! It's fucking Lawton Rastor! And his fucking squeeze! Aren't we so fucking lucky?"
At my back, I felt a sudden drop in temperature, like the bodies around me were sidling away. Was everyone leaving? If so, that sounded like a damn good idea. I reached toward Lawton's shirt, hoping to pull him away before things got any worse.
But then, like lightning, Lawton threw back his head. Immediately, a fist flew past his face.
But it wasn't from the guy in front of him. It was from some new guy off to our right, a big muscle-bound guy with complicated facial hair.
The fist had barely disappeared when Lawton's right arm shot in the guy's direction. His fist slammed into the guy's ear.
"Motherfucker!" the guy yelled, staggering backward, and then off to the side, like he couldn't quite keep his balance.
"Chloe," Lawton said in a warning tone, "you'd better not still be there."
From the tone of his voice, he knew exactly where I was, and he wasn't happy.
Slowly, I began to back up. I didn't stop until I felt the warmth of the crowd at my back. My heart was racing. I looked around. Where was the bouncer? Where was anyone? Should I dial 911?
Ahead of me, the first guy took a swing at Lawton's face. Lawton swatted the fist away, leaving the guy's face wide open. That's when Lawton's right fist shot out, slamming hard into the center of the guy's face.
He staggered backward, and his hands flew to his nose. A river of blood poured between his fingers. "My nose! You fuckin' broke it, you asshole!"
With a guttural roar, the guy off to the right charged toward Lawton. Without changing direction, Lawton gave him a hard elbow to the neck. The guy dropped to the ground, wheezing. With barely a glance, Lawton kicked him in the side, sending the guy rolling onto his back.
The first guy, his face a bloody mess, barreled toward Lawton head-first. Lawton's fist flew out toward the guy's mid-section, hitting him hard enough to double him over. With a half-moan, half-wheeze, the guy dropped to his knees.
Finally, the bouncers made their appearance. I recognized one of them as Lawton's friend, a black guy in a black T-shirt with the club's logo. He looked down at the second guy, still lying on his back. "Snake, you dumb-ass. Not again."
With something like a sigh, Lawton's bouncer friend grabbed one of Snake's booted feet in each hand and started dragging him toward the exit.
The first guy, now on his hands and knees, raised his head and muttered, "That son-of-a-bitch broke my nose!" He glared at Lawton. "Third fuckin' time. You cock-sucker."
Lawton took a step toward him and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. His voice was quiet, but it carried over the now silent club. "You wanna fuck with me? Fine. Fuck with me all you want. But if you ever fuck with my girl again—"
He leaned close to the guy's ear and said something that only they could hear. The guy glanced at me, and I almost heard him swallow. When Lawton finally released him, the guy looked around the quiet crowd. "What the fuck are you lookin' at?" he said as he rose unsteadily to his feet and stumbled toward the exit.
And then
, somewhere behind me, I heard a girl's voice, a different one from the first, say, "Holy shit, was that Lawton Rastor?"
Chapter 41
Five minutes later I fell, laughing, into the passenger's seat of his car. I never did get my drink, which was probably a good thing. My head was spinning so fast, my body could barely keep up.
I should've been horrified. Hell, I was horrified. But I was something else too. And it had me rubbing my thighs together as I settled into the passenger's seat.
Lawton closed my car door and strode around the front of the car. I watched him through the window. With a soft sigh, I watched him move.
That long, easy stride, those wary eyes, the way his muscles shifted in time with his movements. It was a visual symphony that had me wanting more than just a look.
He was every girl's fantasy.
He was my fantasy. And he was mine in real life too. For how long, I had no idea. I knew it wouldn't be forever. In real life, things like that didn't happen. He'd go on to marry a movie star or a socialite, or no one at all. And I'd – I bit my lip – I didn't know what I'd do.
But I knew what I wanted to do now.
I turned sideways in the seat to face him. I watched as he settled into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut behind him.
"That was interesting," I said.
He gave me a look. "That's one way to put it."
I felt my eyebrows furrow. "Are you mad at me or something?"
He turned straight ahead, studying the dimly lit parking lot. "No."
"Are you sure?"
Cast in shadows, I watched him in profile. He didn't answer, and he didn't move so much as a muscle.
"You are," I said.
Slowly, he shook his head.
I reached out, placing a hand on his thigh. "Then what is it?"
He turned to face me, and his hand closed over mine. "You could've been hurt," he said.
"But I wasn't."
"But you could've been."
"So that's why you're mad at me?"
His hand tightened. "No. Baby. Not you. Me."
"Why you?" I kept my tone light. "You rescued me. You're the hero of this story, not the villain."
Rebelonging (Unbelonging, Book 2) Page 14