by Snow, Jenika
I finished off my beer and was about to push through the crowd to get the fuck out of here, when I saw her. She was oblivious to the guys staring at her like they wanted between her thighs. Rage boiled inside me at the thought of any of these pricks going after her, hell, even thinking they could have her. I was shocked by the intensity in which I felt that.
I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but I was transfixed by the sight of her, couldn’t help but stare at her. And then I was moving forward as if my feet had a mind of their own, as if rationalization and common sense flew out the fucking window.
I never did this, didn’t dance, let alone think so possessively about random women.
And the closer I got, the more I felt the blood rush through my veins almost violently. My need was so pronounced inside me that I felt like a wild animal paced back and forth in the very center of my body, demanding to get out. I wanted some little shithead to try and make a move on her, dare to think they could have her, because then I could get some of this feral aggression out, could take it out on some poor, unsuspecting asshole.
And when I was close enough that I could reach out and touch her, I did just that, curling my fingers around her tiny wrist.
I didn’t know what this feeling inside of me was, didn’t understand why it was so strong, so consuming, but I let that fucker lead the way.
I let the very male, primal part of me take control.
Chapter Four
Izzy
I was in the center of the dance floor now, bodies all around me, the sex in the air so potent I felt myself swaying to the music, felt my eyes closing as I got swept away.
God, I felt it… felt everything.
And then someone took hold of my wrist, their fingers big and warm. They stopped my movements, halted me from going anywhere. Electricity moved through my body from that touch. My heart raced, and I turned around, already knowing who held me, even though I hadn’t seen him yet.
Mr. Dark and Sexy.
I craned my head back to look into his face, his dark, penetrating eyes sucking me in instantly. My mouth dried; my throat tightened. I couldn’t breathe, and with the crush of bodies, the rush of emotions and feelings running amok inside me, all I could do was stand there. I didn’t know his name, didn’t know who he was or what he wanted, but what I knew for certain was that I wanted to see what happened next.
* * *
Tommy
She looked up at me with wide eyes, her perfect pink, bow-like lips parted in surprise, or maybe it was arousal. I didn’t know if she’d push me away, turn, and leave, but I would have followed her.
I would have tried to make her mine, convinced her this attraction was off the charts… was real.
But she stared right there with me, letting me touch her, and that pleased the fuck out of me. I took a step closer until our chests almost brushed. Her pupils dilated the longer she stared at me, and my damn dick grew hard, insistent, and so fucking needy to feel her pussy clamping down on me that I groaned. I knew she couldn’t hear me, which was a good thing, because it might have scared her off.
I let my arousal take the lead as I pulled her forward until her tight little body pressed against mine. Fuck, she felt good. Even with the noise all around us, I heard her gasp of surprise. The heat that came from her and the way her eyelids fluttered told me she was feeling this just as deeply—badly—as I was. I couldn’t help myself as I leaned closer so our mouths were only separated by an inch, and then I just stared into her eyes.
Without saying anything, I wrapped my hand around her waist and started moving with the music, going slow, more erotic, to the beat. This wasn’t about dancing. It was about feeling her against me.
Flashes of light swept across the dance floor, and despite everyone all around us, we continued to stare into each other’s eyes. The song changed, the DJ switching it up a notch. Couples moved closer together, started fucking each other with their mouths and tongue. I could see that shit in my peripheral, but right now, it was just her and me.
I couldn’t deny the atmosphere, the look and smell of her, and the way she melted against me turned me the fuck on. Who was this woman?
Why was she causing this kind of reaction in me?
My dick was a steel rod between us, pressed tightly against her belly and all but throbbing in time with my pulse. Taking my other hand and sliding it over the small of her back, lifting the hem of her shirt up slightly, my breath quickened as my bare skin touched her.
I wanted her right here and now, wanted to place my claim, mark her, show everyone that I could have her and they couldn’t.
We moved fluidly to the music, and as she turned in my arms, I let my finger skim along her bare skin as her shirt rode up even more. I was sober, but I smelled the beer on her. A part of me wondered if she’d be this free if she weren’t intoxicated.
I wanted her clearheaded when I tasted every inch of her, and I would. That was a fucking guarantee.
“Tell me your name,” I said by her ear, letting my lips brush against the shell, feeling her shiver for me. I skated my fingers along her arms and felt goose bumps on her skin, knew my voice had done that to her. But she didn’t respond, and I was so immersed in the feeling of her moving against me, rocking back and forth, that I didn’t press her for the information.
I don’t know how long we danced, but the songs changed, and still we moved the same. Erotic. Sexual. Ready to fuck.
God, she was perfect, not just in the way she looked but in the way she felt against me, the way she smelled, and all the things I wanted to do with her. It wasn’t just about sex but about getting to know her better, learning what made her tick, what she liked, disliked. I was shocked I wanted to know those things after saying no more than a handful of words to her. But they were real and raw, and I latched onto those emotions like I’d fucking die without them.
But when the song changed, the crowd became more frantic, wild. They pushed and pulled, as if trying to separate us. That seemed abhorrent to me. I had to be with her, had to keep her close. But before I could hold onto her, the people were moving back and forth, dancing, swaying, pushing me farther back.
And as I watched her disappear in the crowd, the only thing that kept playing through my mind was… I won’t let her get away.
Chapter Five
Izzy
We stumbled into the hotel room, giggling, overly loud. Even I could sense we were obnoxious, but I felt good, light and free… alive. My body was still humming, electricity still racing along my arms and legs from that sensual, sexual dance with that stranger.
But just as I was about to be bold and wonton with him, let the alcohol lead the way, suggest we go somewhere quiet and “talk,” get to know each other more, he was gone, skirted away by the crowd as the music turned up and became fast and frantic.
I’d lost him in the crowd, pushed back like a wave in the ocean, farther from the shore.
Nadine flopped on the couch, bringing me back to the present. She had one leg and arm hanging off the cushions, her head turned to the side toward me and her eyes closed. She was still giggling, but I knew she’d be passed out sooner rather than later. She had a lot more to drink than I did and had gone straight for the hard stuff, where I just stuck with beer. But I was a lightweight so was feeling those beers pretty damn hard.
And I’d had a couple more bottles before we ended up leaving the club, and the only reason I stayed was in hopes that I’d see Mr. Dark and Sexy again. And the fact that I was depressed and disappointed I hadn’t, made me feel a little bit uncomfortable given that I shouldn’t feel this way about a complete stranger.
I closed the hotel room door and leaned against it, closing my eyes and exhaling. I pictured me and the stranger on the dance floor again, his hands on me, the feeling of his big, hard body pressed against mine sending pleasure through me. Even now, even though it had been hours since we touched.
God, I didn’t even know his name, yet here I was, wishing I would�
��ve asked him to take me home, to take me to a hotel room, hell, to lead the way to a bathroom stall at the club.
I’d never felt such intense, potent desire before, and I wanted to cling to it, wanted to forever have it ingrained in my memory and then on my body.
I opened my eyes and saw Nadine was sitting up now, her focus trained on me, one dark eyebrow cocked. “Girl, I don’t know what you’re thinking about, but you’re blushing like hell.” Her voice was slightly slurred, and before I could respond, she started giggling again.
She hadn’t seen me dancing with the stranger, and a part of me was thankful for that, because I would never hear the end of it. But then another part of me was disappointed, because I wanted her to have witnessed that connection I felt, to make it feel like I wasn’t insane, that it had been real and I hadn’t been fantasizing it all.
But I knew it hadn’t been a dream, hadn’t been wishful thinking. I felt him on me still.
I pushed away from the door and walked over to the chair that was beside the couch. After sitting down, taking off my shoes, and putting my feet up on the coffee table, I rested my head back and stared at the ceiling. I was just about to tell her everything about the mystery man, when the sound of a female voice came through loud enough it had me sitting up and looking over at Nadine, my brow furrowing. “What was that?”
She looked toward the window then back at me. “Just probably somebody outside,” she said without missing a beat.
I was feeling buzzed enough that I didn’t question her, but when I heard the female voice again, I looked toward the window, realizing we were twenty stories up with glass thick enough we couldn’t even hear traffic. I glanced back at Nadine and shook my head. “Nadine, we’re in a hotel. There’s no way we can hear outside.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but then we heard it again, loud and crystal clear, coming from right next door. A woman moaning. People having sex. I felt my eyes widen and slapped a hand over my mouth. Nadine looked shocked at first, her lips parting as she looked at the metal door that separated our room from the next, the kind you could open if you were sharing rooms and wanted to go between them.
It was silent for a suspended moment, but then the woman moaned louder, a porn-star-style shriek that had Nadine and me laughing uncontrollably.
“Oh my God,” I whispered and found myself out of the chair and moving toward the divider door, placing my hands on the cold metal, and putting my ear against the crack of it.
“Izzy, you freaking pervert,” Nadine said on a whisper and started laughing uncontrollably as the woman moaned louder.
I might not be experienced in sex, but I could tell when a woman was faking it, and this girl was really giving it her all. She would give porn stars a run for their money.
Maybe I was a pervert to listen to people banging next door, but this was something you only saw in a movie or read about. It certainly never happened to me. This felt like a novelty.
It got quiet for long seconds, and I pulled away, shrugging as I looked at Nadine. “I think they’re done,” I whispered, my hand bumping into the handle and making a loud clicking sound. I felt my eyes widen and as I looked at the door, as if they could see right through it, knew I was being a creep and listening. But then she started moaning again, and the very distinct sound of skin slapping against skin came through.
“Oh my God, Nadine.” My eyes hurt they were so damn wide. “I think he’s spanking her ass.”
Nadine was off to couch and beside me a second later, her ear pressed against the metal door as she tried to control her laughter. “We are so drunk, immature, and pervs.”
I couldn’t really deny any of that.
The sound of him spanking her repeatedly, of her shrieks of pleasure, came through so loud Nadine and I stumbled back and started laughing.
“I feel like if we weren’t drunk this wouldn’t be as entertaining as it is,” I said softly, and she nodded.
When the room next door was quiet again, I moved back to the chair and sat down, Nadine doing the same over on the couch. She turned on the TV, the volume muted, her muttered curses coming through as she tried to figure out how to turn the volume on.
“Fuck this,” she mumbled and tossed the remote beside her.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but a good hour had to have gone by before we started hearing the loud sexual moans coming from the room next door once again.
“You have got to be kidding,” I said and rested my head back on the chair. “I’m actually impressed he’s able to go twice in an hour.”
Nadine snorted. “Maybe he didn’t get off the first time.”
I started laughing.
“We should order a pizza,” Nadine said almost absentmindedly, changing the subject.
I glanced over at her, my stomach growling. “I don’t think you’ve ever had a better idea.” We both looked at each other for a suspended moment then started laughing.
“You’re drunk,” she said.
“You’re drunk,” I replied.
Yeah, I was drunk, but not too drunk to know that what I felt on the dance floor tonight was unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. And I wasn’t too drunk to know I wanted to feel that way again… with him.
Chapter Six
Izzy
The next morning
I was up at six, staring at the ceiling, my head pounding. I would have loved to sleep in, but it looked like that wasn’t happening.
I had a damn hangover, something I hadn’t experienced in years. I closed my eyes and lifted my hand, rubbing my forehead. Nadine slept in the king-size bed beside me, lightly snoring. I wished I was her at the moment, oblivious to the war drum pounding in my skull.
I pushed the duvet off me and sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed, my legs hanging down, my feet not quite touching the floor. I needed coffee, maybe the hair of the dog that bit me. But the very thought of drinking a beer this early in the morning, let alone ever again, had my stomach twisting in disgust.
“Nadine?” I said softly, my voice gravelly and hoarse. The only response she gave me was a loud snore as she shifted on the bed. She’d be out for a while, no doubt with how much she’d drank last night. I’d seen that coming after she drunk-ate half the pizza we ended up ordering and downing two bottles of water.
I forced myself to stand and headed into the bathroom, shut the door, and walked over to the shower to turn it on. As I let the water heat, I faced the mirror and looked at the hot mess that was my reflection.
My hair had been thrown up in a haphazard bun right before bed, and it was crazy all around my head. Dark circles were under my eyes, and my complexion looked pasty as hell. I resembled the walking dead.
I undressed and got in the shower, and for a good half hour, I let the water wash over my neck and down my back. I needed coffee like I needed an IV of fluids to get over this hangover.
Once out of the shower and dressed, I took my hair out of the knot at the top of my head and ran a brush through it. It was wavy from being put up, but not totally horrible-looking. It would have to do as I went down and picked up a couple bagels from the hotel continental breakfast and the biggest cup of coffee I could find.
I passed a still sleeping Nadine, her soft snores making me feel envious that she wasn’t dealing with her hangover. But she would. As soon as she woke up, she’d be feeling it.
I left the bedroom and headed toward the door, grabbing the keycard on my way out. I pulled the overly heavy door open, and just as it was about to close behind me, the door to the room next door opened. I froze, the memory of the sex we’d heard last night coming from said room slamming into my head. I hadn’t been so drunk I didn’t remember all the moaning coming from them.
I expected a couple to emerge, but who came walking out had my heart plummeting to my stomach and my eyes widening.
Mr. Dark and Sexy had his wide, muscular back to me. He wore a white T-shirt and a pair of gray sweats. The cotton of his shirt formed against
all that hard, male flesh. God, he was toned. I assumed he was going to work out with his ensemble and the fact that he wore running shoes, and because I clearly had no control over my body or thoughts where he was concerned, I pictured him all sweaty, his muscles straining, his most likely impressive dick pressing against those gray pants.
My room was the last one down the hall, so I took a step back until the wall greeted me, not wanting to be seen, because I already started feeling my face getting red with embarrassment. All I could picture was us moving on the dance floor together, the touch sexual, enticing. But then that was bombarded with the remembrance of hearing him screwing some woman in the hotel room next to us.
My stomach clenched in distaste. He turned around then, and our eyes locked, our gazes clashing. For a moment, I saw surprise filter across his face before a slow smile crept across his sinfully sensual mouth. He had a little bit of scruff on his cheeks and jaw, a five o’clock shadow that told me he hadn’t shaved this morning. God, I found that so attractive. And his hair, slightly mussed around his head, had my fingers itching to touch the strands, to see if they were soft.
I curled my hands into tight fists, my heart racing, pounding so hard I wondered if he could see it through my clothes. We said nothing as we stared at each other, his very presence a little bit intimidating. He seemed bigger in the daylight, his shoulders broad, his muscles pronounced.
“You know…” he started in that deep, husky voice of his that instantly had a shiver racing up my spine.
He took a step toward me, and I inhaled deeply on instinct, taking in the spicy, woodsy scent of whatever cologne he wore. Or maybe it wasn’t cologne. Maybe it was his natural aroma, an all-male scent that had my thighs clenching together involuntarily.
