by Shandi Boyes
After placing an order for two bottles of water, I set my money on the countertop. With the dance floor crammed with patrons eager to spend their Saturday night getting sweaty, my thirst feels unquenchable. Although my throat is burning, its sting is nothing compared to the pain gnawing my chest from seeing Noah getting cozy with his date. It’s so scorching hot, my heart will wear its blisters for months to come.
Noah’s date appears a few years older than him. Even with my insides twisted with jealousy, I can admit she’s attractive. Her tight black skirt and midriff top pairs well with Noah’s casual yet sexy look. He’s dressed similarly to the night we met. His dark-washed jeans, black motorcycle boots, and white V-neck cotton shirt showcase the impressive ridges of his body in an alluring light.
Upon spotting my inconspicuous gawp through my recently cut side bangs, Nicole nudges her head to Noah’s booth. "Who’s the hottie?"
I return my gaze to the dance floor, refusing to waste any more time stewing over a guy I have no claim to. We’ve shared a handful of flirty text messages. That doesn’t equal a lifetime commitment. Furthermore, as far as I’m aware, Noah is single, which means he’s free to date whomever he pleases. I just wish it could be done without adding cracks to my already fragile heart.
When Nicole arches her brow, wordlessly demanding for me to answer her, I murmur, "He’s a friend of Lola's."
Hearing the words I don’t speak the loudest, Nicole huffs. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say, Emily."
With a roll of her eyes, she redirects her attention to the dance floor. I can tell the exact moment her eyes lock in on the same suggestive thing I’m seeing as her cheeks bloom with color. A couple is dancing provocatively in a steel cage shackled to the ceiling. The female dancer's blonde hair curtains her face when she bends over to grasp the outer edge of the cage. After adjusting her position so her ass sits higher than her back, a shirtless male dancer grinds against her in beat to the music. The roll of his hips is enticing enough for my olive cheeks to blush.
Nicole, Jenni, and I have sampled a range of dance clubs the past few months, but the vibe tonight is the most electrifying we’ve experienced. Dampness lingers in the air from the number of sweaty bodies dancing under the warm pulsating lights, making the sexual tension almost palpable. Its moody booths and classical lines of silver add a touch of elegance to an ambiance that screams sex and sensuality.
Noah chose well. The Dungeon is an ideal location for an intimate yet risqué date.
Some of the despair shrouding me leaves when I spot Jenni in the middle of the packed space. She’s getting friendly with a handsome blond man whose icy blue eyes can be seen from a distance. I don’t know what he’s whispering in her ear, but her smile is so broad, it competes with the crystal chandelier hanging above their heads. For the first time the past ten minutes, happiness spreads across my chest, grateful one of us is having some luck in love tonight.
My glee doubles when Nicole grumbles, “The bouncers should hand out sex education pamphlets upon entry. The chemistry in this room is crazy.”
When she fans her flushed red cheeks with her clutch, I hand her one of the bottles of water I bought. As she takes delicate sips, she rehydrates, returning her face to its standard Alaska-white coloring. Nicole’s wavy red hair falls to her waist like fiery lava spilling from a volcano. Her green eyes seem a little large for her delicate facial features, but they give her an exotic look that attracts a lot of male attention. She’s beautiful and utterly unaware of it, which makes her even more appealing.
After lifting my sweat-drenched hair off my neck, I place the bottle of water on the overheated skin on my nape, hoping some condensation will cool the fire roaring through my veins. When droplets of water roll down my back, I close my eyes. The cool water feels blissful on my roasting skin.
My eyes flutter open a short time later when a masculine voice questions, "Can I buy you a drink?"
When my hooded gaze strays to the person propositioning me, my pulse quickens. He has the most unique pair of gray eyes I’ve ever seen. His mousy brown hair is cut in a trendy style, and his face is lean and long. The dimple in the middle of his chin can’t be hidden by the five o’clock shadow on his jaw, and his light gray business shirt looks expensive, but his matching tie is loosened at the knot, giving him a more casual look. His athletic build enhances his dark gray fitted trousers and shiny black business shoes.
His eyes drift from my face to my hand when I lower my water bottle from my neck. Upon noticing my bottle is full, his lips curl into a devilish smirk. "Maybe the next round?"
I offer him a reserved smile before nodding. I’m not shy, but I’ve been burned in the past, so I’ve learned the importance of patience. Furthermore, this man is ridiculously attractive, but not all the extra flutters in my pulse belong to him. Some of them are still for Noah—regrettably.
Smirking at my skittish response, the man takes a sizable gulp of the amber liquid in his whiskey glass. He swallows the bitter concoction with ease, not the least bit put off by the burn of straight liquor. I never knew watching someone drink could be sexually gratifying, but he makes a quick liar out of me.
I jump out of my skin when Nicole unexpectedly screams, “Oh my god! This is my favorite song!"
She loops her arm around my elbow to drag me toward the speakers blaring Rihanna’s latest hit. When I crank my neck back to offer a silent apology to the gentleman I was talking to, out of the corner of my eye, I spot Noah standing at the end of the bar. He’s alone, and his dark, tormented eyes are fixed on me.
I flash my eyes to the booth he was seated at earlier, expecting his date to be awaiting his return. Air snags in my throat when I discover she’s nowhere in sight.
With quirked lips, I return my eyes to Noah. Turmoil brews in my gut when he shrugs, like it’s no big deal he goes through women like toilet paper. Since it’s bordering that time of the month, my plan to wipe the smug expression off his face forms like a tsunami. It’s more dangerous and sinful than any before it.
Spite fuels my motives when I devote my attention back to the man in the gray suit watching me with zeal. I wave for him to join me, fattening up my invitation with a flirtatious rake of my lower lip with my teeth.
When he notices my offer, he guzzles down the remaining liquid in his glass, hands his suit jacket to the bar attendant, then stalks my way. During his short trip, he undoes his gold cufflinks so he can roll up the sleeves of his business shirt. His demeanor is so cutthroat, the crowd parts when they see him coming. He either has the respect of every patron in this club, or their fear.
By the time he joins me on the edge of the dance floor, Nicole has made herself scarce, and my pulse is raging out of control. I was supposed to set a trap, not get snagged by one.
"Hi, I'm Emily."
I offer him my hand to shake, striving to appear more mature than my nearly eighteen years. He accepts my gesture, but instead of shaking my hand, he presses a kiss to the side of my palm.
“Isaac.” Not even the thump of bass can take away from his deep timbre.
As Isaac maneuvers us to the middle of the dance floor, I glance over my shoulder, wondering if Noah has spotted our exchange. He has, and he doesn’t appear happy about it. His arms are crossed in front of his chest, and his brows are stitched.
Feeling empowered now that I’ve made him as jealous as I felt earlier, I dance more sexually with Isaac than I usually would. I grind my backside against his groin and swing my hips so scandalously, the only way I’m leaving this club is in handcuffs.
I’m saved from prosecution when Isaac curls his arms around my waist. His new hold keeps me protected from the people crowding us, while also ensuring not an inch of air gets between us. It’s a dominating clutch that makes every woman surrounding me green with envy.
Within minutes, Isaac’s enticing scent has me forgetting my invitation to dance was merely a ploy to make Noah jealous. I’m so caught up in the moment, I’m giddy when he trails kisses along t
he sensitive skin on my nape. He licks, sucks, and bites me as if we’re not surrounded by hundreds of people watching his every move.
I close my eyes, eager to relish the sensation of being wholly desired. The instant they snap shut, Noah's dark, intense eyes enter my thoughts as they have every night the past two months. With my mind hazy from the electricity firing through the air, I daydream I’m with him instead of Isaac. I pretend he’s licking the sweat off my neck before scoring the skin his tongue just traced with his teeth.
My daydream is so vivid, a needy moan rolls up my throat before I can stop it. It’s halfway out of my parched lips when a stern cough interrupts my deliriously exotic daydream. When my eyes pop open, I balk, startled to discover Noah standing in front of me. I stare at him, confused about whether my fantasy was real or a figment of my imagination.
It’s only when Isaac’s tongue soothes the sting of his bite does the truth smack into me. It isn’t Noah kissing my neck. It’s Isaac—still.
With an icy snarl, Noah locks his eyes with Isaac. “Isaac, can I have a word?”
I shouldn’t find the bulging veins in his neck attractive, but I do. Very much so.
From the way Isaac continues ravishing my neck, you’d swear he didn’t hear Noah’s request. “Right now, Noah?”
My eyes bulge when I’m stung by my second realization in under a minute: they called each other by name. Sick gloom spreads through me. Could I be any more stupid? Out of all the men in the club, I pick a friend of Noah’s to exact my revenge with. I’m such an idiot.
As guilt rains down on me, I remove Isaac's hand from my waist before stepping out of his embrace. I don’t even get two steps away when he seizes my wrist to pull me back his way. “We’re not finished yet.” His hankering gray eyes bore into mine. “I’ll be back in a minute."
Uncertain how to reply while standing across from the man I was fantasizing about, I halfheartedly nod. My stomach launches into my throat when Isaac kisses my hand as he did earlier. I'm not sickened by his gesture; I'm mortified Noah is watching our exchange with murderous eyes.
When Isaac’s hand moves to my jaw, Noah’s nostrils flare. He looks seconds from detonating, but instead of exploding in front of an audience, he gives me one final glare before storming back to the bar. I feel his jealousy just as intently when the eyes of numerous women follow his every move. They’re torn between the two powerhouses presented in front of them. Noah has an edgy rock star look that could grace the pages of every teen magazine in the country for years to come, whereas Isaac has the cutthroat businessman allure that screams of both money and attractiveness. They’re both sexy in their own unique way.
I stop watching Noah’s rapidly retreating frame when Isaac’s thumb traces my top lip. I hardly know him, but I’m certain he's debating whether or not to kiss me. Uneasiness twists my stomach when I assess the potential consequences of his decision. None of them are positive.
Confident I’ve made enough mistakes tonight, I withdraw from Isaac’s embrace, stealing the decision from him. His dark brows tack, but he accepts my unvoiced rejection with the maturity I lack tonight.
After returning my tight smile with one of his own, Isaac pivots on his heels and heads in the direction Noah just went. Once again, the crowd parts when they see him coming. I take in some big breaths before scanning the dance floor, seeking Jenni and Nicole. I need to leave before I make another foolish mistake.
When I balance on the balls of my feet, I spot Jenni dancing with the same blond she was mingling with earlier. Nicole is just to her right, laughing and chatting with another equally attractive specimen. Guilt makes itself known in my stomach. I’m seconds from ruining my friends’ night out all because I’m a spiteful bitch.
A nightclub isn’t an ideal spot to deliberate, but after a few seconds of silent contemplation, I conclude that I should leave the club alone. With my mood at an all-time low, I won’t be the best company anyway, so why not endure it alone.
While Jenni and Nicole slowly approach me, I put on my game face. Jenni has been my friend since kindergarten, and although my friendship with Nicole is only coming up on two years, she knows me as well as Jenni. If I’m not careful, they’ll sniff out my lie before I’ve delivered it.
Nicole’s bottom lip droops when she drinks in the sullen expression on my face. "What's wrong?"
I cough to free the butterflies from my voice. “I’m not feeling very well, so I’m going to take a taxi home and jump into bed."
Jenni joins us halfway through my lie. “We’ll come with you.”
“No, Jen, I'm not ruining your night just because I have a little headache. Please don't worry about me; I’ve already called a cab."
Although I hate lying to them, when Jenni peers back at the guy she's been socializing with, my guilt isn’t as bad. He has stopped dancing, impatiently waiting for her return, and the excited expression on her face reveals she’s more than eager to get back to him.
Jenni’s glistening blue eyes return to me when I sling my arms around her neck. “Go on, babe, have fun. I'll call you tomorrow, and you can give me all the details.”
"Are you sure?"
Hoping it will ease the worry in her voice, I hug her tighter. “I’m sure. Now go.”
I pull back from our embrace, spin her to face her dance partner, then shove her toward him. Her beautiful giggle when she runs back to him is barely heard over the music thumping around us.
Once the sweaty crowd engulfs her, my eyes stray to Nicole. “Please keep an eye on her.” I wrap her up in a tight embrace. "And don't forget to have a little fun too.” I keep my voice playful, striving to wipe the concerned look off her face.
It works.
She hugs me back minus the shakes Jenni had. “I will. Text me the instant you get home, okay?"
I keep my gaze to the side, ensuring she won’t see the dishonesty in my eyes. “Sure, I’ll message you after I take something for my headache.”
She huffs, aware I’m lying, but also aware of my inability to back down when I have my mind set on something.
After bumping her with my hip, giving her a final assurance without words, I head toward the illuminated exit sign on my left. Just as my black pumps step off the rich mahogany floor, the club goers part, giving me a front row seat to Noah and Isaac going head to head.
Oh no, what did I do?
Chapter 8
Noah
Isaac’s anger is unmissable. “What the hell, Noah?"
He’s pissed at my interruption, but his anger has nothing on the fury pumping through my veins. I’m so fucking jealous, if you were to slice me open right now, my blood would be green.
"Sorry, man, you can't have that one. You can pick any other girl here tonight, but you can't have Emily." My voice is surprisingly firm for how fast blood is coursing through my veins.
Although Isaac and I aren't technically friends, he's a good guy, so I couldn't just storm over and yank Emily out of his embrace, even though I really fucking wanted to. Emily was beautiful the first time I met her, but tonight, she's captivatingly gorgeous. The high rise of her dress paired with her chunky heels make her legs look like they stretch for miles. Her makeup is smoky, giving her light brown eyes a risqué edge, and her long, dark locks have been cut in a shorter, sexy style that has a few highlights added to enhance her already gorgeous olive skin.
Isaac is basically a stranger, but even I know if I let him get too close to Emily, he’ll never let her go. And for some fucked-up reason, that notion really bothers me.
"Why the fuck not? She seemed interested in getting to know me.” Isaac arches his brow, his glare picking up. "You should have heard the moans purring from her pretty little mouth when I was kissing her neck.”
He rubs his hands together like he's recalling a fond memory. His smug I’m the fucking king attitude is too haughty for my liking. It has my anger hitting never-before-reached levels, thickening my blood with furious heat.
It has me unhinged,
reckless enough I grab his tie to pull him to within an inch of my face. "Because you can't have her!”
The patrons milling around the bar stop what they're doing to glare at us. They’re the least of my problems. Numerous bouncers are charging my way. Realizing I have the club owner by the scruff of his shirt, they push through the throng of people surrounding us without a concern crossing their minds. Their focus is on taking me down.
They don’t get within an inch of me when Isaac frees himself from my hold. With the glare of a man on edge, he gestures for the bouncers to stand down. While adjusting his skewed tie, his gray eyes glare into mine. His nostrils flare in sync with mine, and his face is lined with just as much anger.
It takes a few seconds for recognition to dawn on his face. “It's her, isn't it?" He nudges his head in the direction of the dance floor. "She’s the one you were telling Nick about today? The one you can't stop thinking about?"
Nodding, I shift my gaze in the direction he nudged. I’m taken aback when I see a pair of panicked light brown eyes. Emily is standing at the edge of the dance floor. Her tiny hands are balled, and she looks seconds from crying.
As much as this pisses me off to admit, I haven’t been able to get her out of my head since the day we met. I tried to distract myself, even went as far as not drinking so I wouldn’t text her like I did before Jacob, Nick, and I nearly caused her demise. Nothing worked. I’ve reached for my phone more times than my mic the past month. I barely know her, but she imprinted herself on me so firmly, I feel like I’ve known her for years.
My eyes drift from Emily to Isaac when he snarls, “Then why isn't she out there dancing with you, Noah?"
Emily only danced with him because she misinterpreted my exchange with Meg. One glance in her eyes told me everything I needed to know. She doesn’t hide her jealousy well.
Isaac adds to his cocky statement, “She wanted a taste of sophistication for the night.”