by Tilly Pope
“Good evening Mr. Morrison, nice to see you again.” I turn around to see a smiling hostess regarding me with bright interest. “Is there anything I can get you?”
“Yeah,” Chad replies immediately before I can say a word. “Your best Scotch, neat and some of that lovely lobster I spotted at your buffet.”
The hostess looks to me for confirmation and I nod. She inclines her head in acknowledgment, whirling smartly away to fulfill our order. I relax on the soft, plush, red velvet and look around the VIP to see who’s here. My eyes stutter to a stop as they fall on a tall, beautiful girl, with brown hair, wearing a copper lamè off the shoulder dress and grinding against a strange man.
My eyes narrow as I watch them, wondering what she could be thinking to be out there acting like a whore. My stomach churns with acid as I watch her hand against his thigh, trailing teasing touches along it as if she means to follow through by thrusting her fingers into his waistband and jerking him off.
Of course, that can’t be.
She wouldn’t.
Why would she?
She's not that kind of girl.
Before I can think about it, I’m on my feet, swaying from side to side in an effort to keep her in sight. I take a step toward them when Chad’s hand on my arm detains me.
“What are you doing?” he asks and I turn to glare at him. He shakes his head slowly. “Whatever you’re thinking about doing, don’t.”
“Since when are you the boss of me?”
“Since you’re about to do something epically stupid.”
I look back at Skylar. She's smiling at the dude. Oh, hell no. She’s mine.
5
Skylar
When we arrive, tequila shots are flowing and I down a few to get good and loose and in the mood for dancing.
After a few dances, I’m hot and I get myself a frozen margarita, pressing the icy drink against my face, and sigh with relief. Julia is beside me, jumping up and down and singing along to the song that’s playing. I roll my eyes and move away from her in case someone thinks that I too, love whoever is singing about their ex. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no indie music snob but there is only so much whining about exes I can take before I want to blow my brains out.
Sam used to love this kind of music. I think it reinforced his fucked-up ideas of how much a woman should rely on a man to validate her. Of course, it’s easy for me to be judgmental about him now, but I stayed with him for two years, so what does that say about me?
I thrust the thought away from me as I feel my mood begin to sour. I’m here to have a good time and meet some man to relieve my tension. It’s not the time to think deep thoughts or analyze my past for however fucked up it was. Shit happens, the end.
I look up to see that Julia is now dancing on the spot, eyes closed, hands in the air like the song says to do. I smile, going at once to join her. This is a great upbeat song, and I want to absorb the spirit as well. I gyrate my hips with abandon, copying Julia’s moves and soon we’ve gathered a crowd of onlookers. Julia and I are good dancers and we know how to dance together, copy each other’s moves and dance in sync.
While we’re there, the bartender puts a couple of cocktails in front of us. He points at a group of guys in another corner. “Enjoy. With compliments from those guys.”
We look them over, nobody stands out but we still take their drinks and toast them as we drink and dance. The cocktails are delicious but expensive and we order another round of them before switching back to margaritas.
By this time, of course, we’re feeling no pain.
Justin Timberlake is bringing sexy back as I shake my ass against Julia’s crotch and then drop it low. She swings a leg over my head and spins around to general applause from the crowd. I don’t know if it’s the dance move or the flash of underwear that’s the big draw but the crowd seems to double. It’s a good thing we’re in VIP and not the main dance floor otherwise it would be a little too crowded around us for comfort.
The waiter brings us more drinks we didn’t order and lets us know who they’re from. A man standing at the other end of the room lifts a tumbler in a toast and we pick up our drinks and toast him back, drinking even as we continue dancing. The DJ is definitely on fire tonight.
After the next song, I decide to take a break, flopping down onto the plush velvet sofa with a sigh. I had worn my wedge-shaped heels to prevent my feet from hurting while dancing but it’s still a relief to get off them for a while. I slide them off and tuck my feet against my ass as I sip my cocktail while reviewing the merchandise on display. There are quite a few potentials I can see, and as I look at them, some look back.
It’s a heady feeling.
I haven’t flirted in forever.
The guy who sent over the cocktails is giving me the eye. He’s tallish, with sandy hair. I can’t really see his eyes from across the room but his stare is definitely piercing. I raise an eyebrow, my curiosity peaks. He’s wearing a nice suit and as he bends to pick up his glass the muscles of his arm bulge. He definitely works out. And he’s blatant in how he watches me, his eyes trailing down from my folded legs to the mass of curls on my head.
I hesitate, debating about whether I should invite him over. I look over at Julia who has replaced me with some guy and is grinding happily against him. She has a huge smile on her face and I can’t help but smile back. Maybe she’s found her Mr. Right Now already.
Of course, there is the matter of logistics. It isn’t as if she can take the guy home – her parents aren’t that tolerant. I don’t want her to go to the guy’s place either, we all know how dangerous that can be.
I’m so busy trying to solve Julia’s potential hook-up problem I forget about the guy across the room until I see a pair of thick thighs, right in front of me. I look up, my eyes catching on the bulging crotch in my face. A little snort escapes, so I put my hand to my mouth, hiding my surprise. Clearly, I read him wrong earlier – he didn’t feel that he needed an invitation.
“Hello, miss. May I join you?” he has a very distinctive English accent and of course I want to know more. I pat the seat next to me and he sits without hesitation.
“Well, hi there,” I say a bit breathlessly because I’m nervous but trying not to show it. I have forgotten how to do this – it’s supposed to be like riding a bicycle right? It comes back to you as natural as breathing. I don’t feel it though. My flirting sucks.
He puts an arm across the back of the sofa and smiles at me. “I’m Jonathan…wot’s your name?”
I just stare for a bit, completely distracted by that accent. “I uhm…” For one horrifying minute, I can’t remember my name. “I’m Skylar.”
“Wonderful to meet you, Skylar.” He holds out his right hand to shake and I only stare for like a second before I stretch out and pump it a few times. Then I feel as if maybe I’m shaking his hand for too long and let go really fast. The whole thing is just uncomfortable.
But if I’m awkward mcawkwardson, he is the very epitome of a smooth operator and completely ignores my lameness. He leans in, hand hovering over my knee. “So where’d you learn to dance like that? The way your body moves…you must be professionally trained.”
I almost snort in surprise but manage to smooth it out a bit into a huff. “Are you kidding?”
He shakes his head slowly, looking me in the eye. His own eyes are a light blue that are just as piercing up close as they were at a distance. They’re super intense. I stare into them with no hesitation.
“No, I’m not joking.” His eyes flick downward at my body. “You have a dancer’s body too. Let me guess, you’re in the cirque du Soleil.”
I can’t help the scream of laughter that emerges from my mouth. This Jonathan guy was really laying it on thick. “I wish,” I say with a snort I can’t hold in this time.
“We should go one night then.” He says and it almost disorients me at the abrupt change of direction.
“Yes okay. I would love that,” I say even as my mind is buzzing w
ith caution. I don’t even know this guy’s last name and I’m agreeing to go on dates with him? He’s gonna think I’m pretty desperate and I don’t want that, so I pull back a bit.
“So, where are you from?” I ask kinda tongue in cheek. His accent is a big tell.
“I’m from Sun Valley by way of Peckham,” he says with a grin.
“Really? I live like almost on the Strip,” I say and then I want to slap myself. Did I really just tell a stranger where I live? What is in these cocktails? I quickly get to my feet to avoid any more gaffes, pulling him up with me.
“Hey, you wanna dance?” I ask even as I’m already pulling him to the dance floor.
“With you? Definitely,” he smiles wide at me and I see that he has one dimple. It’s cute. I lean toward him and poke my finger into the hole the dimple has made in his cheek. Maybe I’m a lot drunker than I thought – that’s a bold move for me. He grabs my finger and brings it to his mouth, taking a playful bite. I giggle because there’s no dignity left to be salvaged tonight and I allow him to pull me into his arms.
We slow dance staring into each other’s eyes and smiling. It’s just about the silliest, most romantic, fun thing that has happened to me in ages.
“I can’t really impress you with my dance moves if we’re this close,” I say right into his chest. He shivers a bit and that makes me feel powerful. I cup his neck in my hand and look him in the eyes.
“Oh, I’m already impressed, doll,” he says with a smile. His hand on my back smooths my dress flat against my skin as he feels his way lower and lower until his hand is on my butt. I think about protesting, about telling him it’s too fast, but we both know where this is going; so what the hell? I move in his hands, gently gyrating my hips as we move, his hand not budging from my ass. I can feel his dick poking against me.
Whoa! This is fast. But it’s also sexy as fuck. I haven’t felt this desirable in forever. I give Jonathan a smile, and he returns it, his eyes dropping to my lips as if he’s thinking about kissing them. I think about it too, wondering if I’d let him. His lips part and he pants a bit, his tongue peeking out as his eyes get heavy with hunger. It triggers every traitorous response in my body. I’m wet with anticipation, my knees buckle, and my mouth is dry, hoping he’ll quench my thirst with his kisses. I move closer to him, grinding against his cock. We’re practically making love on the dancefloor.
It's heady.
It makes me feel alive and powerful.
I don’t want this to stop.
I look up to see if anyone is watching us and I freeze. Across the room, exactly where Jonathan had been standing when he sent us drinks, is my fucking roomie. He’s staring at me with fire in his eyes and I’m at a loss to understand why.
I lift my hand, waving cautiously at him. Perhaps he’s glaring at someone behind me? He clearly sees my wave but doesn’t acknowledge it.
Typical.
I don’t know why I expect him to not be an asshole. He’s a rich, entitled brat who loves to get his way and thinks other people exist to serve him. I know this so why do I even worry about it? Just because we’re roommates doesn’t mean anything.
Jonathan leans into me, breathing hotly against my neck. If he’d done this three minutes ago, it would have been super-hot. I’d be arching my back against him and moaning, asking for more. Now I’m just pissed at my roommate and I lose the moment.
Damn that Ayden to hell!
6
Ayden
Skylar’s looking at me, puzzled, as if she can’t understand why I’m glaring at her.
“Dude?” Chad claps me on the arm and I remember that I’m not alone. “What’s up with you?”
I incline my chin across the room so that Chad can see what I see.
Chad leans in and asks, “Is that your chick?”
I turn, glaring at him. He knows full well that it’s ‘my chick’- he’s just trying to push my buttons – and he’s succeeding quite well.
“Why don’t you go up there and rescue her from his nefarious clutches then?” Chad laughs. I glare at him, letting him know by my expression that I don’t see the amusement.
The smiling hostess comes up to us to ask if we need anything else. Chad declines but I pull her close so I can whisper in her ear above the noise of the music, knowing full well it’s wrong. “Do you know who that guy is?” I point across the dancefloor at Skylar and the man. She follows my finger, clearly trying to be helpful.
“Er, no I don’t know him, Mr. Morrison. Would you like me to ask?”
“No. Send them a bottle of whiskey, with my compliments.”
Yeah, I’m passive aggressive. Sue me.
My hostess - whose name I should really ask - goes to do as she’s told as I stand and fume. Skylar and the man are allegedly dancing - if that excessive grinding on each other they’re doing can be called dancing. She keeps flicking me angry glances and I wonder if she’s still mad about the Pad Thai or if it’s something else.
I tear my eyes away from her, looking around at the single ladies. Two can play this game. There are plenty of girls looking my way, just waiting for a sign. A lifted eyebrow, a smile or the crook of a finger to run to me.
Somehow, Chad got twins to sit on his lap. Just going by their peachy asses, it’s a miracle they fit on Chad’s thighs. They’re making the best of it though, grinding against him and pushing their boobs into his face. I shake my head, surprised to find that I’m over the shallowness of it all.
It’s meaningless.
My eyes trail back toward Skylar. She’s listening to the asshole as he says something to her. I guess it’s funny because she laughs. What could he say that is so damn funny?
“Dude, you gotta stop staring,” Chad says. I’m surprised he has the brain cells to notice what I’m doing while trying to juggle the stripper twins.
“I’m not staring.” I deny it even though we both know it’s a lie. The thing with male friendships is that it’s all about keeping up appearances. If I say I’m not staring even though my eyes are glued to Skylar, then I’m not staring. She spares me a glance before going back to feeling up the asshat’s muscles. If it’s muscles she wants, I got plenty.
I lean over to Chad. “Hey, man. I’m going over there. Make sure her cock-blocking friend is taken care of?”
Chad lifts his eyebrows at me in disbelief. “I’m kinda busy here dude,” he says eyes flicking down to the boobs in front of him.
“I get that, but I need to get her away from that fucker. I can’t have someone else come between us tonight. Do you get me? Give the twins your number. They can stop by your place later.”
Chad gave a long-suffering sigh but nodded. Hey, this isn’t a one-way street. I would do the same for him. “Which one is she again?” he asks.
I look around for the friend who’d come to my door, sure she was close by. Sure enough, she’s dancing with a guy not three feet away from Skylar. Now and then, her eyes dart toward her friend. She’s keeping a close eye on Skylar.
Chad leans into me, “It looks like she’s found her own plaything.”
I notice the friend is kissing the man she’s dancing with. Good for her. If she wants to get her rocks off, I have no objections. Just as long as she doesn’t get between me and Skylar.
“Cool. Keep an eye on her. If she looks like she wants to interfere, do your thing.”
“Yeah okay, dude. Good luck or whatever.” Chad gives me a look. I know that look. It means he thinks I’m about to do something crazy. I’m not, for the record. I simply mean to go over there and get my girl back.
“Make sure her friend gets home safe. I owe you one.” I put down my drink just as I see my hostess arrive with a bottle of whiskey on a tray, whispering something to them while pointing at me. The man peers into the blue ambiance of the club, probably trying to find me so he can give me a guy nod for ‘appreciate the drink’ quickly followed by a possessive gesture toward Skylar to let me know she’s not available. I don’t give him the chance to do eit
her, striding across the dancefloor and into their personal space.
“I see you got my bottle. A toast?” I reach for the whiskey, with a glance at the hostess.
“Thank you…” I paused, waiting for her to fill in the blank with her name.
“Er, Krissy. My name’s Krissy.” She gestures vaguely at her name tag. It’s really too dark to see what’s written on it.
“Thank you, Krissy.” I nod, resolving to leave her a fat tip when I pay the bill, for being such a good unquestioning sport.
“You’re welcome, sir.” She takes off, a bit of a bounce in her step and I smirk as I turn to Skylar and her friend – only to find her glaring at me.
I thrust my hand out towards the man, “Ayden Morrison,” I say with an expectant look on my face. He takes my hand, clearly thinking I’m here to make his acquaintance.
“Jonathan Welsh, at your service.”
Now I get what she sees in him - the British accent. I almost snort in disgust.
I turn to face her with a smile and find that her glare has graduated to narrowed eyes. “Skylar,” I say.
“What are you doing here?” her voice is cold as ice. I would shiver but I don’t scare that easy.
“Oh you two know each other,” the bastard says. I ignore him. Skylar turns to him with a smarmy smile.
“Unfortunately,” she says. “He’s my roommate.”
I take a step closer. “Oh, I think we’re a bit more than just…roommates.”
Jonathan is looking from her to me in a very bemused way. It’s gratifying. At least somebody gets it. She takes a threatening step toward me. It’s kind of a turn on. “Did you follow me here?”