by Colet Abedi
And anticipation.
My hands move up his muscled chest to his shoulders and I allow myself free reign to touch him here, now, with a crowd of people surrounding us, their presence making my sinful action feel safe. Our eyes remain locked and the heat that moves between us could light the place on fire. Michael’s hands move from my hips up to my waist, over my back and through my hair until he tugs on the thick strands and moves his face down to mine.
We breathe each other in.
We both stop moving.
The club around us, the people, the music—all of it seems to stand still.
Our bodies speak to each other in a way we’ve never been able to communicate before. The years of desire we’ve both felt crashes down around us like the powerful surge of a waterfall. My heart gives a wild kick and I’m completely overcome by the moment, the intensity of my feelings for him.
His lips brush up against mine, teasing me, his tongue moves across my lower lip and before I can respond his mouth moves to my ear.
“I want you.” Michael’s husky voice is like music to my ears.
If he weren’t holding onto me, I would crumble to the floor.
I don’t just want him. I need him.
“Come home with me tonight.” His voice commands me as his hands run down my bare arms until he’s gripping my waist again, pulling me up against his impressive erection.
“Please.”
Holy. Shit.
The moment I have been waiting for my whole life. Dreamed about. Fantasized about. Hoped for.
Now.
It’s happening.
Now.
His tongue trails up my neck to my ear, driving me insane with longing, like he’s trying to make sure there is no way I will say no. I can turn him down. Be proper like he always says or I can throw caution to the wind and take a chance.
A dangerous one.
But one I want more than anything else in the world.
My hips rub up against his erection answering his request before I can form the words. I hear his hiss of desire before his strong hand envelopes mine and he leads me off the dance floor.
Is he taking me to his place?
The faces around me are blurred together as he pulls me through the club.
“Can we get my coat…” I remember my things, asking him to stop to get them. “My purse…”
He ignores my words as he expertly navigates his way through the club until we’re down a dark hallway that is practically devoid of people. Before I know what’s coming he pushes me up against the wall, lifts my hands over my head and his beautiful mouth, those gorgeous lips I remember so well, come crashing down onto mine.
The instant his lips touch mine all the pent-up desire I’ve had for him over the years unleashes like an exploding dam. I open my mouth as his tongue sweeps in possessively and gives me life. He groans into me, his hands reach down and cup my ass as he grinds his erection into my core. I move against him, wanting to feel more, wanting him to be inside me more than I’ve ever wanted anything in life. My emotions are wild and unsure but my body—my body knows exactly what it wants.
And it’s him.
I tug on his hair and move my lips over his. My tongue mates with his as he explores every crevice, brushing against the inside of my mouth. I’m swollen, wet with desire, an insatiable fire that only Michael can appease. He drives his hardness against me, rubbing slowly and I groan with need. I push my breasts against his chest, my nipples hardening in reaction, my body primed and ready to go.
Michael rips his lips away from mine and as he presses kisses on the side of my face, my neck, any piece of unclothed skin he can find.
“Abby…” His voice is heavy with need. “You taste too good.”
I move my mouth to his neck, reciprocating the action. His skin tastes like heaven to me, that heady masculine smell of his overwhelming any grip on sanity I might have. My hands brush over his wide back, and I revel in the pleasure from finally being able to touch him.
I want him naked.
I want to explore that beautiful body of his freely.
And I want him inside me.
“I want to go home with you.” The words sound like they’ve been ripped from my soul.
I feel his entire body tense when he hears my words, and he pulls away from me so he can stare down at me in hunger.
God.
Just to see this look in his eyes. To know it’s just for me gives me a sense of power I’ve never felt before in my life. My fingers move to my lips and they feel raw and swollen. I want more.
“We’re leaving,” Michael says as he looks over my face possessively.
“Yes.”
He takes my hand in his and leads me back through the club. We pass people in the hall who were probably witness to our display of carnal lust, but I feel no shame in it. This is it.
Finally.
We make it back to the booth and I’m relieved Jack and Jennifer are not there. I assume they went back to the dance floor, but I don’t even care. Michael flags down the VIP waitress and hands her his credit card while I grab my jacket and handbag.
Michael’s gaze finds mine and my body trembles in anticipation at the hungry look he gives me.
The waitress comes back with the bill and Michael signs for it quickly. He holds out his hand for me and I gladly take it.
“Ready?” he asks.
You have no idea.
“Yes.”
We walk through the club and when we pass the ladies room, I tug on his hand. Michael looks down at me.
“I need a moment,” I tell him shyly.
“I’ll wait right over here.”
I run into the restroom and make my way to one of the empty stalls. When I push the door open and sway my way inside, I realize the last shot of tequila might have been overkill. Oh well! I pull up my dress, sit down, and take out my cell phone from my purse.
I text as fast as I can and send off the message to Georgie.
ME: OMG!
He writes back fast.
Georgie: I’m afraid to ask.
I giggle out loud.
ME: You’re going to die!
I watch the bubble come up as Georgie types.
Georgie: I’m waiting…
ME: Michael.
Georgie: Please tell me you’re not stalking him at some dinner date you had to schedule :/
I shake my head like he’s in front of me but then remember I’m in the bathroom stall. Since typing is taking a lot of effort, I decide it’s a good idea to FaceTime him.
Georgie is bare-chested and in bed when he answers. I’m smiling like a lunatic when his face finally comes into focus.
The tequila is definitely doing its job.
“You’re smashed,” Georgie says as he takes in the scenario. “And you’re on the toilet, Abby.”
I wave him off. I think my hand is moving in slow motion, but I really can’t be sure.
“It’s tequila,” I admit.
“Do I need to send a car for you?” Georgie asks and I burst out laughing when I watch him lift a glass of champagne off his dresser and take a sip. “Have you thrown up yet?”
“I don’t throw up!” I sputter in outrage.
“You might.” Georgie’s voice is knowing.
“That’s for amateurs,” I tell him like I’m some seasoned tequila drinker—which I’m not by the way.
Georgie doesn’t look like he believes me.
“So what is so important that you felt the need to text me at twelve thirty in the morning?”
“Is that how late it is?” I ask in horror.
“Yes,” Georgie replies then moves the phone so I can see a very naked man lying in bed next to him. “You’re lucky Stefan is passed out.”
“He looks hot,” I say, staring at Stefan’s impressive muscles.
Georgie really does have good taste.
“Of course he is.” Georgie sighs as if that should be a given. “Now tell me before I hang up on yo
u. I was about to wake Stefan up again and take part in that good deed you haven’t had for a very long time, ma chère, and probably don’t even remember how to do.”
“That’s so nice.” I hope my smile isn’t too goofy. “But I’m about to go there.”
“Go where?”
“To bed with Michael,” I whisper.
“Jesus, Abby,” Georgie says with a laugh. “I think the whole restroom might have heard that.”
“I know. But it doesn’t matter. Did you hear me?”
“How? When?” Georgie rushes out. “How?”
“He asked me out on a date… I think I forgot to tell you that part.” I start to ramble and tell him the story in what I hope is a linear way.
When I’m done, Georgie is laughing.
“Finalement!” he shouts in joy and I hear Stefan mumble something next to him.
“Right?” I tell him, nodding my head in happiness.
“Oui,” Georgie says. “Go get to it, my love. I’ll be waiting anxiously in the morning for all the details.”
“I love you!” I think I shout that part again, but I don’t care.
We hang up, and I finish up in the bathroom and make my way to the mirror to freshen up as fast as I can. I hope I haven’t been gone for too long.
The face that looks back at me is one I haven’t seen in a long while. My blue eyes are bright with desire, my lips swollen from Michael’s wild kisses, and my skin has a healthy flush that only passion brings. I run a hand through my disheveled hair and put on some lipgloss, even though I know it’s bound to be kissed away in the very near future. The thought thrills me.
Am I about to be another notch on Michael’s belt? Possibly.
Do I care at this moment? Not really.
When I’m done, I take a steadying breath and walk out of the bathroom expecting to see Michael waiting for me, but he’s nowhere to be found. I walk through a crowd of people and when I still can’t find him I move back closer to where the restroom is, hoping I’ll spot him.
Unfortunately, he’s not who I find.
“I didn’t believe Clive when he said it was you.”
Talk about buzzkill.
My stepbrother Davis is standing in front of me with that god-awful shit-eating grin of his that I can’t stand. He looks terrible and completely worn out. His receding hairline and potbelly don’t help the situation at all.
“It’s me,” I reply coldly.
Davis and I barely speak to each other. In fact, the last time I saw him was before my almost wedding. The God’s honest truth is that I’d be happy if I never saw him again. His slimy friend Clive comes to stand next to him. I don’t appreciate the way he looks me up and down, like I’m some tasty piece of meat he’s about to have a piece of.
He’s always given me the creeps.
“Abby,” Clive leers.
“Clive,” I force myself to respond to him.
“I told you it was her,” Clive says to my stepbrother. “I could recognize that hot little bum of hers from a lineup.”
“Wonderful,” I say coldly. “Now if you’ll excuse me and my bum—”
Davis reaches out and grabs my arm before I can make my exit.
“Are you fucking Michael Sinclair?”
I react as though I’ve been slapped and jerk my arm out of Davis’ grasp.
“How dare you speak to me that way,” I hiss at him as Clive continues to smile at me with bloodshot eyes.
Davis grabs hold of my arm again and yanks on it.
“Answer the question, little sister,” he says in disgust. “Are you another one of his girls? Have you been Sinclaired?”
“Sinclaired?” I repeat in horror.
“Fucked by a Sinclair,” Clive enlightens me with that piece of information.
“That question is absolutely none of your business,” I tell him and try to tug my arm out of his painful grip. “ Now let go of me!”
“We saw you on the dance floor,” Clive chimes in, looking at me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “Acting like a whore. Funny, I never took you for one.”
Even though what these two think of me is the last thing I should care about, I feel my flush of embarrassment.
I’m mortified they saw us in such an intimate way.
It’s unfortunate how sobriety likes to kick in at the most inopportune times.
“If you think you can hurt me, you’re sadly mistaken.”
Davis’ grip on my arm tightens as his eyes narrow in anger.
“I asked you to let go of me.” I meet Davis’ gaze head-on. “What I do is none of your business.”
“It is my business when you keep making a fool of yourself,” Davis sneers. “You’re dragging the family name through the mud with all of your antics.”
“The last time I checked my name is Walters, not Sinclair,” I remind him.
“Semantics. Isn’t one embarrassing relationship enough for you?” Davis ignores my words and continues on with his jabs. “At least the Russian was going to marry you. Michael is just going to use you until he’s bored.”
I shouldn’t care.
I shouldn’t care what he thinks. Or says.
But his jab hurts because the fear of it actually becoming a reality is too much to bear. The truth is, my horrible brother could be right.
“Well that’s just my choice, isn’t it?” I reply coldly.
“I never thought you would stoop to this level,” Davis continues harshly. “But someone is going to have to stop you from embarrassing yourself any further.”
“Spare me the fake brotherly devotion.” I roll my eyes. “I don’t need you or anyone else telling me what I can do or who I can see.”
“And how would your lovely mother feel about that?”
His comment makes me laugh. Like really, laugh.
“If you think after everything I’ve been through I actually care you’re a bigger moron than I took you for.” I smile at him in disbelief.
After everything, I can’t believe he really thinks her opinion matters to me.
“Now let me go before I scream bloody murder,” I tell him harshly.
Davis takes my warning to heart and finally releases my arm, but being the giant ass that he is, shoves me away with such force I would have lost my balance and hit the floor if it wasn’t for the rock-solid chest that I fall into instead. Strong arms wrap around my waist to keep me steady.
“What’s going on here?” I hear Michael’s voice.
Of course it’s him. Just my luck.
I turn slightly and grip his arms as they tighten around me.
I don’t have to turn around to know he’s angry. I can feel it on him. His muscles are taut, the energy coming from him, volatile.
“Nothing,” I rush to tell him.
I turn in his arms and cringe when I see the furious look on his face.
Since childhood, Michael and Davis have never got on and it all stemmed from the moment Michael defended me by punching Davis in the face. Since that time the two have always hated one another.
“We just ran into each other,” I say, putting my hands on his chest. I can feel his heart pulsing rhythmically. There is a fierce, possessive intensity in his eyes when he looks down at me and I’m not going to lie, it gives me a rush. It makes me feel safe.
And protected.
“Are you planning on ruining Abby’s reputation even more?” Davis sneers at Michael to my horror.
“Excuse me?” There’s a warning in Michael’s voice.
But Davis doesn’t seem to notice or care.
“She’s already fucked up her reputation enough as it is because of that fiancé of hers,” he continues on to my dismay, his words sounding slurred. “Leaving him at the altar, like she did. And now you. Sleeping with you won’t help what’s left of it.”
I close my eyes when I hear Davis’ words. I wish I could beat him to a bloody pulp. Why does he always have to be so cruel and say the most hurtful things?
More importantly
, why does he have to be here right now?
Here in the moment that should be the most exciting of my life.
I suffered through an entire childhood with him torturing me, wasn’t that enough for a lifetime? I promise myself I’m going to have some words with God once I can think clearly.
In the meantime, I hold on to Michael like my life depends on it. The last thing I want is for him to get into a brawl with my hideous stepbrother.
But I can tell he has a different idea.
He starts to peel my hands off his body.
“Step aside, Abby.” His voice is so cold, so filled with rage, that I almost feel sorry for Davis.
Almost.
“Please,” I beg him as I stare up at him. “Don’t do this. He’s not worth it. He’s so not worth it.”
He ignores my words, grabs hold of my hands and forcefully pushes me behind his back. I close my eyes in dread when I watch him walk up to Davis and Clive with a rage I’ve never seen before in my life. He ignores Clive like he’s some meaningless ant and grabs hold of Davis by the neck and shoves him right up against the wall.
A crowd begins to form around us.
“If you ever, ever, put your hands on Abby again, I’ll kill you,” Michael hisses the words at my stepbrother, holding on to his choke grip for a moment longer before shoving him against the wall one more time and then letting him go as if he’s diseased.
His gaze then moves to Clive and the look he gives him scares me.
Not one word is exchanged but Clive knows.
The message is for him as well.
“Michael,” I call out, wanting to get his volatile energy away from my spineless stepbrother. I want to tell him that Davis has done much worse to me in the past and this is really not a big deal, but I have a feeling it will only serve to exasperate the situation.
I look at him and can feel him trying to control his emotions.
Like he’s some boxer about to rip his opponent to shreds.
