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By the time I send my card off to pay the tab, she’s flushed and full of food. I lean across the table to tease her. “Should we head back home instead of going clubbing? You gotta be ready for a nap by now.”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m ready to party off this food baby I’m carrying around.”
She’s completely opened up. I like what I see.
“Cool. If you thought Macintyre’s was cool, you’re gonna get a kick out of the club.”
We head outside. But rather than seek out the valet for my car, I take her to the left side of the restaurant.
Her confusion radiates through the air. “Is this the part where the ax murderer comes?” she asks warily. “I’ve been waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
“Don’t worry, baby. I’m not gonna take you anywhere you don’t wanna be.”
I bring Olivia down the alley between the restaurant and the abandoned warehouse behind it. Just at the end, there’s a staircase that leads under the street level.
“Just so you know, I’ve taken self-defense classes,” she warns me. “I know jiu jitsu. Sort of.”
I laugh. “Well, you might need to use it tonight. But only because you look so hot I won’t be the only one wanting to touch you. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ll rip someone apart myself so you don’t have to.”
The shiver that runs through her body makes my smirk deepen.
Not too far from the bottom of the stairs is a metal door with a window slider set in the middle of it. I knock three times. But a few seconds pass by with nothing happening.
Olivia fidgets beside me. “Reese?—”
Suddenly, the slider shoots open. Someone’s face appears, just the eyes, bloodshot and angry.
“What?” a gruff voice demands.
“‘The apple is sweeter when it’s forbidden,’” I recite.
The window slams shut and the door opens immediately after.
“You know the rules,” the bouncer mutters. “Don’t make me kick you out.”
I tip my newsboy cap to the surly woman and keep Olivia’s hand tucked in mine as we venture inward. Music thumps with heavy bass. The walls shake and tremble like they’re alive.
Unlike the relaxed, breezy restaurant, the club gives off secret underground vibes. The walls are painted black and the lights are dim and hazy. There’s a massive dance floor writhing with bodies in front of the DJ and a sprawling bar to the left. Couches, high-top tables, and curtained-off private rooms are scattered all around.
Olivia doesn’t know where to look first. Her eyes are bright in the darkness and her skin practically glows. “This looks like some place I’d have killed to get into when I was in college.”
“You calling my spot sleazy?” I tease as a couple stumbles past us. I’m pretty sure the man already had his hands in the woman’s skirt, and he sure as hell wasn’t doing anything wholesome under there.
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean. It looks like… like regular people come here. I thought you said the club was attached to the restaurant.”
“Oh, it is. The rich can wine and dine up there, with nice, proper appearances. But sometimes, we want to come down here and get nasty. You only find out about this place if you get an invite from someone who already knows it. Everyone’s discreet. Like, Fight Club rules, you know? You can do whatever you want and not have it leak to the press or tabloids.”
Olivia bites her lip. “Anything?”
I press my lips to the soft spot behind her ear. “Anything.”
It’s the permission that Olivia needs. She grabs my hand and pulls me between sweaty, gyrating bodies to the dance floor. I can’t help but laugh at her enthusiasm. It’s infectious. I follow her lead as she takes us into the beating heart of the club.
This is a side of Olivia I never thought existed, but I’m damn sure not complaining. She presses her body flush to mine. There’s little to the imagination when it comes to how thin her dress is, and how short it rides up when her thighs are on mine and she grinds against me.
It’s like the music pulses into and through us. My hands settle on her hips. I don’t want an inch of space. I want to be with her. Inside of her. I want to drink up every drop of Olivia Carter, and even then, I don’t think it would quench my thirst.
When was the last time I had this much fun with a woman? Flirting to fuck is one thing, but this feels completely different. We’re burning up with chemistry.
