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Eventually, the others paired off with guys from the crowd, leaving just Daniel and me. As the guitar and bass looped and layered, I felt the music all over me like a pounding, vibrating caress. It reminded me of the night with Jeremy and a spark of insecurity and fear flared inside, but Daniel was there, and I was safe. He never took his eyes off me, and when a tall, blond guy tried to insinuate himself into our dance, Daniel shifted to crowd him out and pulled me close possessively.
I threw my arms around his neck as he gripped my hips. Our dancing grew more focused, like we were alone in the midst of the heaving, raunchy crowd. Songs blended together and sweat ran down my back, but Daniel didn’t move away from me. He held me against him hard enough that my dick rubbed against his hip with every move. He was hard too. And big. Holy crap, he was packing.
I shuddered as our cocks ground against each other, my jeans too tight and the friction not quite enough. I closed my eyes and dug into him, holding on firmly, trying to get even closer.
His head dropped down to press against the side of mine, his breath huffing against my neck and cheek. I shivered, daring to rut against him. He groaned and his mouth moved against my ear.
“I need some water,” he yelled over the music.
I moaned, my dick aching as he let go of me, but he didn’t look back as he moved toward the stairs up to Barry’s bar. Alone in the middle of the dancers, chest heaving with exertion, groin thudding with the beat, I blinked sweat out of my eyes. Someone tried to move into the space Daniel had left open, but I turned away, pushing into the crowded bathroom to splash water on my face.
The fluorescent lights flickered. I ran water into the surprisingly clean sink. I didn’t look anyone in the eye, working on my “not looking for bathroom sex” vibe. After splashing my face, I checked out my reflection in the mirror: cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide. My hair was a mess of sweaty curls, and my eyes stood out like glossy, wild beacons.
“Want a hand?”
I darted a glance over to see a thirty-something brunet with acne scars and thick lips smiling at me from the next sink.
“No thanks.” I splashed my face some more.
“Suit yourself.” The guy left.
Water dripped from the end of my nose, and my leftover lust cooled in the weirdness of the bathroom. I used the hem of my shirt to wipe my face, trying to ignore the grunts and deep cursing emanating from a stall, along with the sound of skin meeting skin.
Upstairs, Barry had a cold club soda ready for me before I sat down. Windy and Minty babbled to Daniel about a mutual college friend who was dating—or maybe just fucking—a Tilt-a-Whirl acquaintance I’d never met. The reminder that I was still new to their little group stung. I wanted to belong.
I squirmed on my stool. Daniel seemed to be purposely ignoring my arrival at the bar. Was he angry with me? Had I taken it too far by grinding against him after we’d agreed to stay just friends?
“Did you hear the news?” Barry asked me, grinning and mopping at an invisible spot on the bar in front of me.
“Yeah, someone’s dating someone, but I don’t know the guys.”
Barry rolled his eyes. “No, Puker. About Renée.”
I leaned forward eagerly. “Is it about the documentary?”
Barry shook his head. “No, it’s Nashville. The Slide got back to her about the tape we sent them a few weeks ago. They want her to be a guest on one of the side stages.”
“That’s awesome!”
“She’s pretty pumped.”
Daniel moved to the open stool next to me, giving me a reassuring smile that loosened the knot of anxiety in my gut. “What’s up?”
“Renée’s going to be a guest star at the Slide,” I piped up, eager to talk with him about anything and reestablish that we were still friends despite my dick’s eagerness.
“Awesome!” Daniel gave Barry a high five. “Is she on an ego trip?”
“Yup.” Barry winked. “Sometimes I’m not sure how I live with that woman.”
“Good thing she’s not a woman every day,” Daniel said.
Barry wiped down the counter, shooting him a dark look. “She’smywoman every damn day. No matter whatshewears or howhe’s dressed. Or if she’s a he, or he’s a she.”
Daniel lifted his glass and toasted that. “And she’s an amazing woman, Barry.”
“Never doubt it.”
As if her ears were burning, Renée swooped in, all kisses, perfume, and already-drunken joy. “Babies! Party at our house on the Fourth! We’ll celebratemealong with our independence!”
