Let Loose for Me

by Coffman, Georgia

  Before she came along.

  It’s sexy. So sexy I feel like throwing her over my shoulder, running to the showers, and locking the door behind us. I didn’t get to have her bare. Our night in Vegas was so rushed I didn’t stop to tear her dress off.

  Well, I did tear a little bit of it, anyway.

  The thought makes me smirk, but it’s not enough—I want her again, and I want her bare.

  Two weeks without a word from her has done nothing to curb my attraction to her. If anything, we’re right back where we started with all the bickering, but there’s a difference—we’ve been mostly naked together. Made each other come.

  Made each other scream in pleasure.

  “You’re up,” she mumbles, stepping away with hands on her hips. Her chest moves up and down as she catches her breath, sweat running down her neck and chest between the valley of her tits. “Staring at me isn’t going to squat this bar.”

  I chuckle. “No, but you can help by putting on more plates. I need some weight, woman. I’m a growing boy.” I wink, earning me a scowl.

  She doesn’t move, and from the dark gleam in her eyes, I know she’s plotting my murder to look like an accident. I can almost see the scene playing across her eyes, the drawing board with red lines connecting each step until she accomplishes my demise.

  I cock an eyebrow and walk backward toward the forty-five-pound plates, trying to figure out if she’s angry at my arrogance or that I know I turn her on.

  Her eye twitches before she breaks eye contact and marches over to add plates on the other side. “Hope your spleen doesn’t burst,” she says, her voice filled with sarcasm.

  “Trust me, baby, this is light weight.”

  “Don’t call me that, jackass.” She flips her ponytail over one shoulder, and it about brings me to my knees.

  I walk around the rack on shaky legs and stand in front of her. “I thought you liked it when I called you that?”

  “No, you just think I like everything you do, but you couldn’t be more wrong, buddy boy.”

  I lean closer, dropping my voice to a gruff whisper, “What about when I make you come? You don’t like that? You don’t dream about me being inside you every night?” I back up, and her eyes flutter. “Because I do.”

  I smile and get into position for my squat, meeting her gaze in the mirror during my set. She watches me, slack-jawed, her expression somewhere between a grimace and infatuation.

  We finish the rest of our workout this way, with us bickering. Her pretending she doesn’t like it when I smack her on the ass, and me pretending my dick doesn’t stir every time I do it.

  At the end, I attempt to show her how she can challenge herself with drop sets, but she throws a shaker cup at my head and walks off. She doesn’t even look back to see she missed. Which would probably piss her off more than my actions.

  Her glare should’ve scared me off. For such a small person, she can be pretty terrifying.

  But I know I won’t be able to stay away from her, not after I already had her once, even though I know how badly it would end for both of us.

  “Let’s go out tonight,” Kendall says, clapping her hands and bouncing in her seat the next day. Instead of returning home like I should’ve, I decided to extend my stay. Mostly due to a pair of green eyes I can’t get out of my head.

  I have a proposition for her. I just have to wait until she stops throwing daggers and very real protein shakers at my head to bring it up.

  Sebastian and I are dropping the girls off at their apartment after lunch. A lunch I don’t think Emma would’ve agreed to had she known I was still in town and tagging along.

  Kendall continues after Sebastian agrees we should go out. “I heard about this great new bar from Margo. She said it was insane.”

  “I’m not interested,” Emma says and tries to open the door.

  I lock her in from the driver’s seat. “Why? Got a cat or seven to buy?”

  She meets my gaze in the rearview mirror. “Oh, because you think I’m a crazy old cat lady? Good one.” She rolls her eyes in sarcasm. “Some of us have responsibilities. It’s a Monday, and I have an early day tomorrow.” She turns to Kendall. “Are you still coming to my class?”

  “Yeah, but it’s not until ten, right?”

  “Yes. Just making sure you’re coming.”

  “I’ll come too,” I say, smiling widely.

  Emma flips me off and tries again for the door. “What are you, eight? Unlock the damn door.” She blows a rare stray hair that’s fallen in front of her face, and her nostrils flare as she watches me.

  “Not until you agree to come out tonight.”

  She turns to Kendall for help, but she holds her hands up like she’s praying. “Please come. I’ll need help wrangling these two heathens.”

  Sebastian turns around from the passenger seat. “Yes, I’m the one we need to be worried about. Not the guy who’s gotten so drunk he thought his name was Tim for two days. That’s how long it took you to sober up.” He punches me in the side, and I cringe at his next statement. “Come to think of it, I had to fight a group of women that night in order to take you home.”

  I don’t dare glance behind me at Emma, but I do hear her gag and try to cover it up with a cough. Exasperated, she says, “Fine. Now unlock the door, ass.”

  “Okay, but you have to bring your attitude to the dance floor. Wouldn’t be a party without it.” I smirk in the mirror for her.

  She glances my way, her expression bloodthirsty, but there’s a hint of jealousy there.

  A twitch in the corner of her eye similar to the one she had when I was with Tarryn.

  With a click, I unlock the doors, and she’s free to go. She wastes no time, either, slamming the door behind her and marching up the stairs to her apartment.

  Kendall remains in the car, and Sebastian turns to me, shaking his head. “Dude…”

  “What?” I shrug innocently and continue watching Emma climb the steps, all the way up until she disappears from view.

  Ignoring Sebastian, my heart races at the possibilities of tonight. A night full of friends, alcohol, dancing.

  And the woman who insists she can’t stand me.

  But I know differently. She can’t hide her attraction to me any more than she can hide her cute blush on her pale cheeks.

  I just need to show her how much more fun we could have, and tonight will be the perfect time to do so.

  CHAPTER 30

  Emma

  Once again, I’ve let Kendall drag me out for drinks and dancing. To a bar that’s half rustic, half modern chic, no less. I’m not sure what to call it with its distressed windowpanes and marble bar top. It’s so crowded I can barely move, which apparently gives Ty the impression he can “accidentally” graze my breast every five seconds.

  I’d shove him off, possibly twist his arm and throw him over my shoulder like I learned in self-defense class, but deep down, I like his closeness.

  Deep, deep down.

  He’s still a pompous ass with his burgundy button-up that fits him perfectly. The top couple buttons are purposely left open, where his tattoos can be seen.

  When I found him on my doorstep like this to pick us up, my jaw almost came unhinged. Never have I lusted over a guy like that, not even Brant, and I’d been in love with him. Or so I thought.

  He was good-looking, for sure.

  But with Brant, I was drawn to the emotional connection. He got me—at first, anyway. He didn’t make fun of my clean sneakers or that I don’t eat in my car.

  If he hadn’t changed to be such an ass, we’d probably still be together.

  Although, after being with Ty in Vegas, I’m starting to wonder what I would’ve missed out on. Brant wasn’t exactly adventurous when it came to life in general, but especially with sex. He liked sex in one main position, with him on top.

  Brant wouldn’t have been so turned on like Ty was when he fucked me from behind and pulled on my ponytail.

  And I’m starting t
o realize I wouldn’t have liked it as much I did with Ty.

  Ty pulls on my hair now from behind me, and his warm breath caresses my exposed neck as he says, “Have I told you how sexy you are in this dress? Was it made for you or what?” He runs one hand down my side and grips my hip, placing a hot kiss on my shoulder.

  Kendall insisted I wear my olive green, spaghetti strap dress. I bought it for Vegas but never wore it. I thought it too tight and inappropriate for my taste, but I have to admit, I wanted Ty to suffer tonight.

  I wanted him to kick himself for not wanting more with me, and it seems to be working.

  A guttural sound escapes him. “Makes me want to take you back to your apartment and fuck you so hard you’ll need a week to recover.”

  I freeze at the feel of him pressed behind me, paralyzed with the need to let him do just that, while also wanting to strangle him.

  I hate that I don’t hate him.

  I purse my lips, willing myself to regain my composure. “I’m not sleeping with you again.”

  I feel his smile against my cheek as he stays close.

  He releases my hair and hip but stays pressed against me as I lean over the bar. Kendall comes up beside us as well, and Sebastian’s close behind her. They wave at the bartender for drinks. “I’ll take two Captain and Diet Cokes.” Kendall then points at me to order.

  “I’ll take a martini with Grey Goose.”

  Ty says to me, “Good girl.” To the bartender with snow white hair, he asks for straight tequila with a lime. Then his hand is back on my hip.

  As we wait for our drinks, I turn to him. “You can’t talk to me this way.” I try to focus on the crowd across the bar, but I don’t see them. Their faces are blurred.

  “But the fun we could have…”

  “What?” I don’t think I hear him correctly.

  His gaze meets mine, his heated body making my chest heave. “What if we dance? Let our bodies do the talking instead?”

  My eyes flutter, dazed by the way his lips move as he says the words. I even lean in a little, drawn to his mouth like it’s the fountain of youth.

  I shake myself out of it when someone bumps into my shoulder trying to order a drink. I nod when they apologize, then turn to Ty. “No one’s dancing.” In truth, there’s nowhere to dance with so many people packed in here.

  In honest truth, I can’t have Ty rubbing on me. Not now when I’m so fucking hot and needy I’d even let him take me to the bathroom of this place so he can have his way with me—something I’ve never done.

  I’m not one who finds bathrooms to be sexy.

  But right now, his proximity is clouding my judgment to where all I can focus on is the way my body rocked against him as he made me come so many nights ago.

  So many lonely nights ago.

  Since Vegas, I’ve gotten back to my routine, without too many of Ty’s inappropriate texts. And if I’m being honest, it’s been wildly boring.

  Kendall lights up. “I want to dance!”

  “No one’s dancing,” I repeat.

  Ty tries to pry the drink from my hand, but my glare stops him. He takes my other hand instead, kissing the back of it like he did the first night we met. It’s like déjà vu, him holding my hand so tenderly like it belongs in his.

  Unlike last time, though, I’m accepting his offer instead of cursing him.

  Well, I curse him a little, but it only makes him laugh as he leads us to the middle of the crowd. He doesn’t even bump into anyone, like he owns the makeshift dance floor.

  The song switches to “Woman Like Me” by Little Mix, a sexy song if you ask me with its quick, slightly off beat. Ty doesn’t hesitate, and the moves come naturally to him. Smiling wickedly at me, he doesn’t notice the half dozen women ogling him.

  The half dozen women he could have who’d be better than me. They’d probably be more suited to his lifestyle than I am too.

  But the way he moves, with me at his center, makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room. The only one who matters to him, anyway.

  I get into the moves, following his lead, remembering what it feels like to move my body without thinking, just feeling. Me and the music.

  I used to dance all the time. I used to be free, before I was forced to grow up at thirteen. When my mother’s drinking problem got worse, and our roles reversed.

  I let the music and alcohol take me to another plane, an alternate universe where I’m just a girl with a guy. Spinning so my back is against Ty’s front, I run my free hand down the side of his face behind me, then shimmy as far down as my dress will allow. When I get back up, I continue swaying to the music, my hand now gripping the back of his neck while the other holds my drink.

  “You’re a fucking goddess,” Ty mutters. The only reason I hear him above the music is because he’s so close to me.

  His words and movements make me hotter, wetter, crazier.

  Because I must be crazy to let Ty close to me again.

  I let his hands roam down the sides of my body, down the soft satin fabric of my dress. His fingertips are hot as if they’re on my bare skin, and my heart speeds up even more than before.

  Peeking over my shoulder, his nostrils flare as we move to the music.

  His nose brushes against mine as we find our rhythm, and I swear he hears my breath hitch because he locks eyes with me, a raging desire in his darkened blue eyes.

  We continue dancing, my resolve to stay away from him diminishing like the drink in my hand. Kendall brings me another, and once I down it, I realize we’ve made our way to the bar where we were standing before. Others joined in the dancing and must’ve slowly pushed us off to the side.

  Leaning over the bar, I push my ass against Ty’s front and order another drink. His grip tightens on both hips, and I’m embarrassed by how much I like it. I never used to be one for PDA, even in a crowded bar where other couples are doing far worse things to each other. One woman, I swear, was just rubbing her man’s hard-on behind her while they danced like it wasn’t obvious.

  I accept the new drink from the bartender who’s sweating from the back and forth of refilling greedy customers’ drinks, but she still smiles at me when I try to hand her a tip. She smiles harder when Ty leans around me to pay her instead, and it just about pisses me off, reminding me of his show and how he let all those women touch him.

  I take a sip of my drink and let the Grey Goose work its magic to calm my nerves. Women have been gawking at him all night. It shouldn’t bother me that the bartender is too. But it does bother me, mostly because he smiles back.

  His charming smile that makes me tingle.

  Damn him.

  When he faces me, I stay only an inch from him and watch his lips as I say, “Let’s keep dancing.”

  He licks his lips and nods.

  I take another sip, the alcohol fogging my brain while my body takes over. We don’t speak another word, just let the moves communicate all we need to say. To build the attraction as the friction increases between us, our bodies moving closer and closer to one another.

  He’s everywhere. His hands on my hips, his lips placing soft kisses on my exposed shoulders and neck while he whispers sweet nothings to me.

  I close my eyes and let my head roll around like it’s unhinged from my neck with a mind of its own.

  At one point, I put my empty glass on the bar and signal for another before I face Ty, biting my lip to keep from kissing him. To play this teasing game a little longer.

  “How many drinks have you had?” Kendall smashes my fantasy with her concerned expression and accidentally steps on my foot, her heel digging into my toes.

  “Ow! What the hell?” I wiggle my foot around, grasping the bar for balance.

  She covers her face with her hands and says, “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

  If I hadn’t had so much to drink, this probably would’ve hurt a lot worse. Now there’s just a slight ache like I feel after the dentist fills a cavity and my mouth is too swollen to feel an
ything but a tingle.

  I burst out laughing when I think about my swollen lips after my last dentist’s visit and how difficult it was to eat soup afterward. I was so hungry and insisted on soup, but it just ran down my shirt instead of my throat.

  “What…?” Kendall and Ty share a confused look, making me laugh harder.

  “So… much… hot soup.” I snort.

  “I think it’s time to get you home, Em.” Ty pulls me into his side, and I realize he’s been holding me up this whole time.

  “You’re so strong, you know that? Like Hulk Hogan strong. Or the cartoon guy in Moana. What’s his name?”

  Kendall pats me on the shoulder, then gives Ty a shiny note. Where’d she get glitter paper? She doesn’t even keep mints in her tiny wristlet, but she has glitter paper? Hmm… “Do you mind taking her home? Here’s a key. Not sure where she has hers…”

  Her voice fades as I focus on key. Oh! “This key looks like glitter. Have you noticed that before? I thought you had glitter in your purse!”

  Kendall laughs, but I don’t get the joke. “Maybe I should just take her home.”

  “Home?” I ask, realizing they’re trying to get me home. “I’m not going home. You guys wanted to dance, so we’re dancing!”

  I stumble out of Ty’s embrace and sway my hips. The room spins around me, bright pink lights twinkling from the chandeliers. Strong hands around my waist brace me and keep me from dancing. “What is your problem? Can’t you see I’m dancing here?” I squint at the guy next to me. “Hey, he looks like Tom Hiddleston. Hey!” I shout at the Loki look-alike. “Can I borrow your scepter?”

  Ty smiles, smoothing my hair down. “While you rubbing your ass on everyone here and asking random people about Marvel is highly entertaining, it’s time to get you into bed and sobered up.”

  “You’re just worried I’ll zap you with the scepter and take over the world.” I throw my head back and laugh, but then a hint of vomit threatens to escape. Gripping Ty’s shoulders, I admit, “Hey, I think I need to go home.” I nod, then walk toward where I believe the door is.

  “I’m glad you agree, but we need to go this way.” Ty steers me in the opposite direction, and I vaguely recall Kendall squeezing me before emerging onto a busy sidewalk.