Ricochet

by Lore Ree

  “What’s going on tonight?”

  “Uh, it’s Friday,” Warren yelled. “That’s what’s going on!”

  We pushed through the writhing bodies and made it to the second-floor balcony. Behind the DJ booth stood a bear of a man.

  “That’s Corey,” Warren said, which explained why the DJ grinned in our direction. Corey waved us over then gave us a quick handshake before inviting us to sit off to the side near the booth.

  When the waitress came by, I ordered more to drink and ignored the concern on Warren’s face. He didn’t need to worry; I wouldn’t be running in the street half-cocked and tipsy tonight.

  “Thanks.” I winked when she returned. Her giggle and smile made me puff my chest a little bit. She must have liked what she saw. However, that was the extent of our interaction. The extent of my interaction with anyone, really.

  The vibe was different than the other time we went out. It was livelier while at the same time the crowd managed to seem more laid back. Still, it took an hour before I wasn’t feeling it anymore. No matter how much time passed in between my outings, this club shit was something I could only take in small doses.

  “You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me!” Warren approached me with a sour expression, as if he could smell that I wasn’t having a good time. “You plan on sitting in one spot all night?”

  “No.” I rose, frowning. “I think I’m going to head out, though.”

  Whatever he saw in my expression stopped him from talking shit, although I could tell he wanted to both argue and keep me from leaving. “Fine. Here.” He handed me his keys. “You’re good to drive, right? I can probably get a ride with Corey.”

  I put my hands up. It was bad enough I was leaving, shitting on him and his plans to cheer up my moping ass. I wasn’t about to take his ride, too. Plus, I wasn’t sure I was that sobered up yet. “I’ll take a cab. Don’t worry ’bout it.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved a hand. “Later.”

  Before I got to the stairs, a group of five girls dancing in the crowd caught my attention. Squinting, I focused, not on the group as a whole, but on the girl in the middle. On the way she moved. On the euphoric smile on her face. Most of the chicks in the club were fly—thick with pretty faces and plump asses—but none of that held my attention the way this girl’s smile did. Envious, I wondered what she was thinking about. Was it the simple act of dancing that made her so happy? Was it someone, not just something? Have I ever looked that happy? A sudden urge came over me. I wanted to approach her and ask what was on her mind. First, I needed to gather my thoughts and compose myself.

  “What happened?” Warren sounded from over my shoulder.

  I wasn’t shocked he was following me. Grabbing his arm, I pulled him to the railing and pointed to the crowd. “Who’s that?”

  “How the fuck would I know?” he asked, his voice tight and clipped as she stepped out of my grip. “That fucking hurt, by the way.”

  Fucking crybaby. “You’ll be all right.”

  Just then, Corey came over to us.

  “You know who that is?” Warren asked him, pointing down to the crowd.

  “In the middle.” I made sure to specify since Warren could have been pointing to anyone. “The one with the really short, black hair.”

  It took Corey a minute to figure out who I was talking about in the sea of people. When he did, he perked up. “Oh, that’s Elle. Cool chick.”

  “Yeah? How do you know her?”

  “You see that one?” He pointed again. “The one with the long, blond hair dancing next to her? That’s me.” His smile told me he was proud of himself and his girl. She was hot, something I couldn’t deny, but she reminded me too much of Arianna. I’d had enough of the J. Lo look-alikes for one lifetime.

  “I’m going down there to talk to her.” I nodded, feeling determined. “Elle,” I said her name again. “I’m going to talk to Elle.” Both guys pulled me back before I could get to the stairs.

  “Are you crazy?” Warren shook his head and pointed to the girls dancing with each other. “They’re in their zone, and by the looks of it, celebrating something. You don’t wanna mess with her right now.”

  I didn’t get it. “How can you tell they’re celebrating?”

  Laughing, Warren rolled his eyes. “Her head. She’s got one of them shitty crowns on. That’s Girl Code for birthday. Or worse, bachelorette party. Either way it screams ‘off limits’.”

  Even though I wasn’t going to listen, for clarification purposes I asked, “So what you’re saying is I shouldn’t go talk to her?”

  “Hey.” Warren put his hands up and took a step back with one of those “you’re on your own” smiles spread across his ugly face. I think he was just happy I wasn’t leaving and actually thinking with my dick and not my head or my fucking heart. “I’m not saying not to. I’m just saying—”

  “I’m going.”

  Neither he nor Corey said anything to stop me this time.

  Slowly, I made my way down the stairs. I tried to act cool, calm, like I had my shit together, but my stomach was heavy with nerves. Getting shot down didn’t make me nervous. Rejection was the nature of the beast. It’s the way I might get shot down that worried me.

  A simple no and a headshake I could deal with, but getting laughed at or being mocked was not something my fragile ego would be able to handle. What if there was pointing involved? Just thinking about it almost made me run back to the guys.

  A different feeling weighed my stomach down when I thought about leaving the club. I needed to find out a little about Elle. I didn’t want to have any regrets tonight. No what-ifs. And frankly, I didn’t want to spend another fucking night alone or hear another one of Warren’s lectures about moving on. With that in mind, I pushed forward.

  As I got closer to the group of girls, the one Corey said was his girl leaned in toward Elle. They were no longer dancing. Elle nodded while her friend’s focus darted in my direction a couple times.

  I’d learned the good and bad of that gesture. She was either telling Elle there was a hot guy approaching and to look alive or to pretend to be her lesbian lover because there was some ugly creep staring at her.

  Elle slowly turned her head, locked eyes with me, and smiled. I did an internal fist pump.

  The group of girls dispersed quickly, leaving Elle dancing alone. I exhaled and sent a quick thank you to God. If they had stayed together, I might not have ever penetrated the pack unscathed.

  I sidled up behind Elle and placed my hand on her lower back. My confidence grew when she didn’t flinch away.

  “Wanna dance?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  Nodding, she leaned against me.

  Unfortunately, she almost took my eye out with that damn thing on her head. Its presence reminded me of what Warren said about why they might be at the club.

  “What are we celebrating?”

  She titled her head slightly and squinted.

  “This.” I tapped the crown. “What’s it for?”

  “My birthday!”

  She was so loud I flinched back. When I felt her stiffen in what I assumed was embarrassment, I wrapped my arm low around her. I wanted her to feel comfortable, but really I wanted an excuse to keep touching her.

  “Well, happy birthday, beautiful.” Cringe. I would forever leave that part out if I told this story to anyone. Happy birthday, beautiful? I should have thought of something better. Regardless of how I felt, though, my words had the desired effect. She relaxed into my embrace.

  We danced in this position for a few more songs: her back against my chest, one of my arms wrapped around her waist, and my other arm resting by my side. I was lost in my thoughts, enjoying every second of having someone in my arms—having her in my arms—and not caring the club was so packed we kept getting bumped into.

  Elle shook her head.

  Curious, I looked up to see why and noticed one of her girls staring at us; a silent conv
ersation flowed between the two. The friend nodded, smiled, and again focused on the guy who was shamelessly rubbing against her thigh.

  Smiling, but keeping my voice playful, I said, “I saw that,” and pinched her side.

  “Saw what?”

  “That eye-voodoo shit you women do. What was that about?”

  “Oh.” She shrugged, still dancing yet trying to speak to me without shouting. “She was making sure—”

  “That you still wanted to dance?”

  Her body shook with the force of her laughter.

  “Do you?” I asked.

  “Do I what?” Finally, she turned around.

  We both paused, openly appraising the other.

  She’d been hot when I saw her dancing, but up close? Goddamn. She was sexual chocolate at its best.

  I shook my head. I really needed to stop thinking dumb shit like that.

  “Do I what?” She blinked her beautiful, dark eyes. The gesture was innocent, but there was a vixen behind the façade. She wasn’t naïve. She knew exactly what she was doing, what kind of effect she had on men—on me. I loved that. I wouldn’t need to spend time reassuring her, placating her, playing games to get her number or, hopefully, more time with her tonight.

  I cleared my throat and refocused. No distractions until I got my answer. “Do you still want to dance?”

  Smiling, she wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me down so her mouth was next to my ear. She waited to respond, letting her breath puff against my skin.

  My dick twitched. Do that again.

  “Yes, but after we have a drink.”

  I nodded and grabbed her hand to pull her toward the bar, but she stopped me.

  “This way.” She pointed to a section off to the side. Several girls sat at a table looking bored. Some glared at the crowded dance floor. One was giving me dirty looks.

  Here we go. There’s always one.

  “Guys,” Elle announced to the table. “This is …” She paused and pursed her lips. “Yeah, you didn’t tell me your name.”

  “Miles.” I winked. “And you’re Elle.” As if she didn’t know her name.

  “No.”

  I quirked an eyebrow. “No?”

  “Not Elle. My name is Noelle.”

  “Sorry, I thought your name was Elle.”

  “It’s OK.” She smiled, then widened her eyes and took a step back. “How’d you know my name?”

  “Corey told me.”

  “Oh.” Her shoulders dropped, but she angled her head to the side with a curious grin. “Are you guys friends?”

  “Not really, but he knows my boy.”

  “That’s cool,” she said but didn’t seem that interested about how I knew Corey. I was fine with that. Back to us. “So, do you want that drink?”

  I shook my head but rushed to clarify when her hopeful expression fell. “Let me get you something.” I pointed behind me toward the bar.

  “But.” She glanced toward the table that already had bottles and glasses on display. It might not have made sense to her why I’d want to buy her a drink when she’d already had her bottles on deck, but it was the principle.

  “I want to.” I gave her what I hoped was a persuasive smile.

  Though I noticed Noelle’s reluctance, she gave me her drink order and playfully told me to hurry.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said. “Don’t go anywhere.”

  Please don’t go anywhere.

  -FIVE—

  The line at the bar was mad long for no damn reason. By the time I made my way to the table, I couldn’t find Noelle for shit.

  The table was deserted as if I’d imagined the whole damn thing. Ain’t that about a bitch? Back to my original plan: say goodbye to the guys and then head out.

  Once I got to the balcony, I forgot about that plan.

  Corey was in the DJ booth with Noelle’s crown on his head. She and Corey’s girlfriend were dancing on opposite sides of him.

  Noelle waved frantically when she saw me and then stopped. She grimaced, and it made me chuckle. Her awkwardness made her seem sweet. I cocked my head to the side to call her over, but she shook her head and crooked her finger to call me over.

  This quickly became a game. A battle of wills. I was glad to play along.

  I quirked an eyebrow and lifted the glass. My hope was to entice her with the drink. It didn’t work. She grinned and shrugged, then pointed to the bottle on the small table beside her. Noelle crooked her finger again and mouthed “come here.”

  I shook my head and leaned back against the railing. Trying to look unfazed by Noelle’s game, I crossed my ankles for good measure. I brought the straw to my mouth, but before taking a sip, I licked my lips to goad her.

  She took a few steps forward with an air determination on her face. I thought I won, so I winked. She stopped and, with an evil glint in her eyes, headed toward her friend and away from me.

  I gulped when they smirked and grabbed shot glasses.

  Her friend poured the liquor.

  Noelle slowly sank to her knees.

  Leaning down with her gaze boring into mine, Noelle lowered her head.

  She wrapped her mouth around the shot glass and threw her head back. Her jaw constricted as the liquid went down.

  Damn!

  Hypnotized, I watched as everything happened in slow motion.

  I swallowed hard and didn’t bother trying to be discreet while I adjusted my dick. When I poked myself in the nose with my straw, I realized my mouth was agape and I was holding my breath.

  Game over. She won.

  In two long strides, I was beside her and pulling her off the floor with one hand under her arm. Not only was the floor fucking filthy, I wasn’t the only man here. A few other guys stared at her as though they were fucking predators stalking their meal.

  Fuck that. I already claimed this pussy. I had in my mind at least.

  She smiled victoriously, grabbed the cup out of my hand, and strutted away.

  What the fuck?

  I pulled her against my chest and pushed my hard-on against her hip. “Not so fast. That little show caused a problem for me.” I smirked at her sharp intake of air, happy to reclaim the upper hand in this game we were playing. Time to jump all-in while I was in the lead. “Did you drive here?”

  “I came with my girls. They drove.” Scanning the group, Noelle tapped her elbow to mine when she spotted one of her friends dry humping some guy. Warren.

  There was no containing my smile. Noelle’s friend had other plans—plans that didn’t include driving her home. I would make sure that worked in my favor.

  “She’s busy. Let me give you a ride?”

  She stopped staring at her girl, turned, licked her lips, and said, “Sure, sounds good.”

  I held up my finger. “Gimme a second.” Warren was preoccupied, but I had no qualms about interrupting his impromptu lap dance. “Warren, let me get the keys.”

  Distracted, he handed them over without asking questions. But when I started to walk away, he called out, “Wait, what’s going on?”

  “I’m taking Noelle home. You’re good with a ride, right?”

  I didn’t wait for his response and went back to Noelle, hoping her girl would make sure my boy was taken care of. Her other friend shot me a suspect look and demanded I let her take a picture of my license. I’d never met this girl before in my life. Giving her my personal information wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t care how hard she grilled me.

  “How about you take my full name and number? Will that make you feel more comfortable?” Though I asked her friend, I was focused on Noelle. I needed to make sure she was cool with leaving with me. When she winked and leaned closer, I knew we were OK. Her friend grumbled something under her breath, which I ignored. I couldn’t get too mad when she was just trying to be protective.

  When we got to the car, I opened the passenger door for Noelle, hoping to make a good impression. Her smile told me I did.

  “So, where do you
live?” I asked once I settled into the driver’s seat. “Or you can come over,” I said reluctantly, when she hesitated to reply.

  Neither of us seemed to like that suggestion either.

  I didn’t know what was going on in her head, and it seemed my cockiness from the club had worn off the moment I started the engine.

  Random shit ran through my mind. How many dishes were in the sink? When was the last time I changed my sheets? Did I put away that half-eaten box of pizza? An image of the box sitting on my coffee table popped into my head. I’d been a hot mess for the past few months. My home reflected my emotional state. A mess I was still battling.

  There’s no way in hell, unless I wanted to scare her away, was I going to bring Noelle to my house. It was clear, though, she wasn’t inviting me over, either, though that had been what we planned inside the club.

  That was OK. She was smart to change her mind and not let a total stranger in on where she lived. But I wasn’t ready to let the night end yet. I wanted time alone with her. Uninterrupted time and somewhere that had a nice bed should the need arise.

  I smiled when an alternate plan formed.

  We pulled alongside the curb of our new destination, but before I bothered putting the car in park, I asked, “Is this all right with you?” The ride over had been relatively quiet, so bringing her here—nice or not, the Taj was still a hotel—might offend her. Our night would be over before anything jumped off.

  Relief showed on her features. “This is perfect.”

  It took some finagling, name-dropping, and an extra set of bills, but I was able to get us a room. Thank God. I’m not sure if it was the policy of the hotel, if the clerk was in an exceptionally bitchy mood, or if it had something to do with the stare down she and Noelle had when we first walked in, but she was definitely judging us and our late arrival.

  Inside the elevator, I hesitated. The calm and quiet of the confined made things a little softer and intimate than I was comfortable with. I had to do something, say something to break the silence.

  I came up with nothing.

  Noelle leaned her head against the dark marble wall and closed her eyes. Her low moan interrupted my thoughts.

  I bit the inside of my lip. Her moan could have easily been the result of exhaustion, but me and my dick couldn’t tell the difference. This elevator wasn’t moving fast enough. A beautiful woman stood less than a foot away, making sex noises—I wanted to be the reasons for those sounds. I pushed off the wall and lowered my head to capture her lips. She greedily opened her mouth and slipped her tongue against mine. I moaned, savoring the taste of the liquor that lingered in her mouth. She hitched her leg over my hip. Instinctively, I grabbed the back of her thigh with one hand and the elevator railing with the other while thrusting against her.