by Rachel Lacey
He spotted Trent in back, dancing enthusiastically with a group of kids that looked about his age, maybe a little older. At least he was making friends, and they didn’t seem like a bad crowd. And Trent had made a real effort since their chat last week to start pulling his weight at Off-the-Grid.
“Oh my gosh, I haven’t been here in ages,” Emma said from behind him. “It looks exactly the same.”
“Yep,” Ethan agreed.
“I’m not surprised,” Gabby said with a laugh. “This place looks straight out of the nineties.”
“Probably haven’t updated a thing since it opened in the late eighties,” Ethan said, hooking an arm around her shoulder. “Really cool that Trent’s playing here, though.”
“Yeah,” Ryan said.
“You want to dance?” Ethan asked Gabby.
“How about a drink first?” she said. “Emma?”
Emma nodded and followed them toward the bar. Ryan walked toward the back to say hi to his brother. Trent spotted him and gave him a nod. Was it uncool for his thirty-year-old brother to come over? Ryan didn’t care.
“Yo,” he said as he walked up to the group.
“Hey.” Trent paused his energetic bopping to make introductions. “This is my brother, Ryan. Ryan, this is Jax, Ellis, Marco, Marina, Nico, and Emerson.”
The kids waved and said hello. Then Trent moved closer to Ryan. “That’s Iris over there in the DJ booth.” He pointed out a woman with jet-black hair and heavy makeup. “I’ll be going up to join her in about fifteen minutes.”
“Can’t wait to hear you play,” Ryan said.
“Spin,” Trent said. “I’m going to spin.”
“Right.” Score one for the uncool older brother. “Can’t wait to hear you spin. Ethan, Gabby, and Emma are at the bar.”
“No Mark?”
Ryan shook his head. “Not really his scene, but you know he supports you one hundred percent.”
Trent nodded. “Can’t quite picture him here. It’s okay.”
“Good luck.” Ryan cracked a grin. “Break a leg up there.”
“I’ll try my best,” Trent said with an answering grin, then resumed his wild bouncing to the techno beat.
Ryan made his way to the mostly empty bar, sliding in next to Emma. Not many people came out this early, let alone on a Tuesday night. The four of them were by far the oldest people in the room, maybe the only ones old enough to drink.
“I feel ancient,” Emma whispered with a giggle, as if she’d read his mind.
“Liquid courage,” Gabby said as she passed out shot glasses.
Ryan took one. They raised their glasses together and drank. He felt the familiar burn of whiskey slide into his stomach. To hell with liquid courage, though. Given the way Emma looked tonight, in a short pink dress, her blond hair in loose curls over her shoulders, he needed the opposite of courage to keep his hands to himself.
He’d almost lost it the other night when she’d come to The Drunken Bear on a date. If she’d been trying to get a rise out of him, it had worked. Big time.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Emma turned toward him, still smiling. Her blue eyes danced with the lights flickering behind them.
He shrugged. “It’s pretty loud in here.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be an old fogey. You’re going to dance with us, right?”
Dance with Emma? Hell. He was screwed. “Yeah. I can dance.”
“I remember you having a few moves of your own.” She bumped her hip against his with a laugh. “This is going to be so fun. I’m glad Trent gave us an excuse to go dancing tonight.”
“Yes,” Gabby agreed. “I’m ready to get my groove on.”
At the back of the room, they watched as Trent made his way up to the DJ booth. He took his place next to Iris and slipped a set of headphones into place.
“I think that’s our cue,” Emma said, grabbing Ryan’s hand.
“Aw, he looks so important up there,” Gabby said as she took Ethan’s hand and followed them onto the dance floor.
Ryan had no clue what song was playing, but it had the familiar techno bass thump he associated with club music. It vibrated in his chest once they’d reached the dance floor, commanding his body to move to the beat.
Emma clapped her hands and spun, and fuck, her skirt twirled when she moved. Desire coiled in his belly, tight and hot. Gabby had settled into the beat, her arms around Ethan’s neck. Ryan felt a little bit awkward dancing alone. He would have far preferred a woman in his arms, but touching Emma would be way too dangerous tonight so he kept his distance and watched her dance.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” a woman’s voice announced over the music. Ryan looked up to see Iris speaking into a microphone from the DJ’s booth. “We’ve got a special guest DJ in the house tonight. In fact, tonight is his very first gig, and I think you’re going to be blown away when you hear what he’s got in store for you. Just eighteen years old out of St. Louis, Missouri. Give it up for DJ Chillax.”
The crowd—such as it was—burst into applause, whooping and cheering for his kid brother. Chillax? Ryan grinned to himself, adding his own voice to the noise.
Trent stepped up, looking right at home with his headphones on, one arm waving to the beat while he mixed music with the other. Ryan had no idea if he was any good, but he looked good, and the music sounded pretty cool. Everyone was dancing.
That’s my brother, he wanted to shout. Spinning tunes at eighteen years old. Okay, maybe not worth dropping out of college for, but Ryan got it now. He did. Trent was passionate about his music, and it showed. Ryan found himself bouncing on his feet, moving to the beat as he watched his brother work.
Then Emma twirled into his arms. “Dance with me.”
Chapter Eight
Emma closed her eyes and let the rhythm move her feet. Dancing was so much fun. Why had it been so long since the last time she went out like this? The whiskey had given her just enough of a buzz to help her shed her inhibitions and let loose.
The beat changed, and she recognized a popular dance song from the radio.
“I love this song,” Gabby said.
Emma opened her eyes to see her friend dancing happily with Ethan, their bodies bumping into each other in the casual way of people who’re already intimate on every level. Ethan seemed at home on the dance floor, busting a move as Gabby laughed with delight.
Emma spun toward Ryan, also moving easily to the beat although less enthusiastically than the more outrageous Ethan. Ryan wore his trademark black T-shirt and dark-washed jeans, and he looked so damned sexy she wanted to smack him—because it simply wasn’t fair for him to look so good. Not when she was trying her hardest to get over him and move on.
She moved closer, and his hands settled on her hips.
“Trent looks great up there,” she said, glancing up at the teen in the DJ booth. Trent’s head bounced to the music as he worked the equipment.
“What?” Ryan dipped his head closer to hers.
She leaned forward. “I said, Trent looks great up there.”
“Yeah, he does.”
Somehow she’d rested her hand on his chest when she leaned in, and now her face was way too close to his for any reason that didn’t involve kissing. She glanced up into his mocha eyes, glittering now with the multicolored lights pulsing around them. Oomph. Desire shot through her, hot and bright, settling into a restless ache inside her that throbbed like the music around them.
“I need a drink,” Ryan said. “You?”
No, actually she’d rather smack him for ruining the moment, but…“Okay.”
Reluctantly, she followed him to the bar. They ordered beers and sat side by side on two barstools, watching the crowd on the dance floor. It had grown since they arrived. The place was hardly packed, but it seemed like a decent crowd for a Tuesday night.
Ryan took a drink from his beer then leaned in so that she could hear him over the music. “So how was your date?”
“You really want
to know?” She raised her eyebrows at him.
He grimaced. “No, but I’m trying here.”
She grinned, unable to help herself. “Well, since you asked, it was lovely. Calvin’s a great guy.”
Ryan took a long drink from his beer. “So what happened to Todd?”
“Who?” she blurted out, a moment before she remembered the motorcycle-riding, drunk and disorderly dude she’d supposedly planned to go out with. “Oh, right. He was okay, a little dull for my taste.”
Ryan gave her a skeptical look. “So dull you forgot his name?”
She shrugged, taking a drink from her own beer. “I’ve been on so many dates in the last week, it’s hard to keep track.”
Ryan’s fingers clenched around the pilsner glass in his hand. “That so?”
“So many bad boys to choose from,” she said, sliding a look in his direction to gauge his reaction. She was so toying with him right now. She’d messaged with a couple of guys through the dating site’s online system, but she’d only been on the one date. None of the guys she’d met so far on Tinder were half as sexy or interesting or…badass as Ryan.
The look on his face said he might just sucker punch any guy he caught so much as looking in her direction. “Bad in what way?”
“Oh, you know…” She leaned in closer. “Rough around the edges, especially in the bedroom.”
Ryan sucked in a breath, his expression gradually softening from deadly to wary. “You’re messing with me now, right? Please tell me you’re messing with me.”
She grinned. “I’m messing with you.”
He exhaled, casting his eyes toward the ceiling as he shook his head. “I have no idea what to do with you, Emma Rush.”
“That makes two of us.” She spun her barstool toward him, and her thigh brushed his. “If you want the truth, Calvin is a great guy, but he said he won’t take me out again until I’ve resolved things with you.”
Ryan froze with his beer halfway to his mouth. He set it back on the counter with a heavy clunk and rubbed a hand over his brow. “Fuck.”
“Pretty much my thoughts exactly.”
He looked at her then, his expression heavy with regret. “I have no idea how we got here.”
“Me either,” she said, deciding to play it casual. “But I’m going to keep dating. This year is all about experimenting and trying new things for me. I want to have fun.”
“I’d say you’re doing it,” he said, polishing off his beer.
“I’m off to a decent start anyway.” She chugged the rest of her own beer and grabbed his hand. “Come on, let’s get back out there before Trent’s hour is up.”
She led the way to the dance floor, where she found Gabby and Ethan still dancing not far from where she’d left them. She fell back into the groove, moving to the beat.
Gabby grabbed her hand and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Where did you and Ryan go?”
“To the bar.”
“Oh.” Her friend looked disappointed. “I was hoping you guys were off making out somewhere or something.”
I wish. “Nope, not happening.”
“Hey, any word from the University of Georgia yet?” Gabby asked.
Emma shook her head. “I think it’s still early, but I’ve been checking my mailbox like crazy.” Now that she’d finally taken the plunge and applied, she could hardly wait to find out for sure. She got all jittery with excitement every time she opened her mail.
“Well, I’m keeping my fingers crossed for you.”
“Thanks,” Emma said.
She and Gabby danced together until Trent came back down from the DJ booth. They all lavished him with praise, and Emma noted with a smile that Ryan looked particularly proud. The teen blushed and got adorably awkward while they congratulated him, but he was puffed up like a peacock by the time he made it over to his group of friends still dancing in back.
Not long after, Gabby and Ethan said their good-byes. Emma was too buzzed to drive herself home right now, and besides, she was having fun, so she kept dancing. Ryan stayed, too, probably more out of protectiveness than a desire to keep dancing.
“This isn’t going to be like the night you hung out at the bar until closing, is it?” he asked, leaning in.
She shook her head. “I don’t think it would be wise to get on your bike in this dress.”
His gaze dropped to her skirt, and his eyes darkened. “Definitely not advisable.”
“Besides, I drove myself tonight. I just need to dance off that last beer.”
Somehow his hands were on her hips again, and she was about to lose her mind from that simple contact. She kept moving to the beat, resting her hands on his shoulders as they danced. Had the music gotten louder, or was it just her pulse pounding in her ears?
All around them college-age kids were bumping and grinding. Couples were making out. The lights had gotten dimmer, and the music was definitely louder now that the time had ticked past eleven o’clock. She twirled in Ryan’s arms, and their hips bumped. His fingers bunched in the fabric of her skirt, hauling her up against him. She let out a startled gasp, looking up just in time to see his lips slam into hers.
Oh. She closed her eyes, her lips parting beneath his. Ryan’s kiss was hot and explosive and electrifying. His tongue thrust against hers, drawing a needy whimper from her throat. They were still swaying to the beat of the music, his hands fisted in her skirt. The lights above the dance floor dazzled her eyes when she peeked up at him, blurring her vision.
Each stroke of his tongue lit flames inside her, blazing straight to the fire burning low in her belly, an aching need that grew until it threatened to burn her up. Holy shit. Ryan’s kiss was like him: big and powerful and just a little bit rough.
And she never wanted it to end.
Someone jostled her from behind, and she stumbled against Ryan’s chest. She slid her arms around his neck, anchoring herself more securely against him. Someone else slammed into them, knocking them sideways.
Ryan tore his mouth from hers, and she grumbled in protest. He gripped her hand in his and tugged her after him. She followed him off the dance floor and down a hall in back, even more dimly lit and still pulsing with music. There he pressed her against the wall, lowered his head to hers, and kissed her again, hard.
She slid her arms around his back, drawing him in closer, his big, hard body pressed against hers. His tongue was doing all kinds of magic things that heated her up until she felt like she might melt on the floor in a big puddle of need if he let her go.
Ryan. She slid her hands down his arms, greedy with the freedom to finally touch him, to run her fingers over his tattoos. His skin was surprisingly soft beneath her fingers. He let out a low growl, nipping at her bottom lip while his hands did some wandering of their own. Next thing she knew, his fingers were skimming up the backs of her thighs, palming her butt, pressing her more firmly against him.
“You drive me absolutely crazy, you know that?” he whispered against her lips, his words sending a thrill through her.
“Good,” she gasped. Because she’d never been this crazy for anyone, ever. No one but Ryan had ever made her feel anything this powerful, this all-consuming, like she just might combust if he didn’t kiss her again.
“Promised myself I wouldn’t do this,” he said as he brought his lips back to hers.
“I won’t tell,” she whispered as he kissed her. They kissed until she was seeing stars and his chest heaved against hers. The rhythmic boom of the bass from the dance floor seemed to echo the frantic pounding of her heart.
“I see fucking red just thinking about another guy touching you.” In the dim light of the hall, his eyes glittered, deep and dark as the night sky.
“I don’t want anyone to touch me but you.”
He crushed his mouth against hers. “No matter how hard I try, I just can’t get you out of my head.”
“Same.” She went up on her tiptoes, bringing their bodies into alignment. They kissed again, raw and greedy and
desperate.
“I can’t stop needing you, needing this.” He clutched her closer against him, a note of desperation in his voice.
“I don’t want you to. Please, Ryan, stop holding back.”
Her words seemed to unleash something inside him. His muscles bunched like a tiger about to pounce, his fingers gripping tighter on her butt. “So just how bad do you want to be?”
She felt his hard length straining the front of his jeans, and oh my God, this was really happening. “So bad,” she whispered.
His hand slid around to cup her through her panties, and she let out a squeak of pleasure. He stroked her through the thin cotton, and she moaned into his mouth.
“Here’s your first lesson.” His gruff words were a whispered promise as his fingers slipped inside her panties. Her body was already on fire from his touch, from his kisses, from the rhythm of the music that seemed to be driving them closer and closer to the edge.
She whimpered, clinging to him as his fingers stroked her toward oblivion.
“Forget those guys on Tinder,” he growled into her ear.
“Done.” Her voice was nothing but a whisper as desire coiled hot and tight inside her. She’d never wanted those guys anyway. She’d only ever wanted Ryan.
Ryan.
“Come for me, Emma.” His thumb scraped across her center and sent her flying.
She buried her face on his shoulder as the orgasm ripped through her, knocking her senseless. When she’d finally come back to herself, she lifted her head. “Whoa.”
Ryan’s eyes blazed into hers, hot and fierce. “You were right. Bad looks good on you.”
* * *
Ryan smoothed Emma’s skirt down and took a step back. She looked all flushed and rumpled, still glowing with pleasure, and he wanted her so bad it hurt. His dick was screaming to get inside her, which wasn’t going to happen—not tonight anyway—but one thing was for damn sure: There was no more pretending this thing between them wasn’t happening.
It was fucking happening.
Emma was his, and he was hers, and there was no way either of them could keep on pretending otherwise. Not after tonight.