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I don’t even know if Tino wants a replay, and anyway, I’d promised Camile we’d have a drink together after the movie is over, so even if he did offer—which I really should refuse—I don’t want to upset Camile. She’s my only real friend in this place, and I cherish that. I’m already treading a fine line by making her sit with the Devils. Dumping her to go off and have filthy, wanton sex with Tino would be a stretch too far.
He bumps me with his shoulder, as though he’s picked up that I’m thinking about him. “Want to dance?”
“What? No.”
I hadn’t even noticed that people are getting up and dancing along with the movie, bumping and grinding. Despite myself, I smile. Their enthusiasm and energy are infectious.
Typical Tino won’t take no for an answer. He grabs my hand.
“Sure you do.” He leans in close. “I want to remind you how my hips move.”
He pulls me to my feet, and, before I know it, I’m standing in the space between the lines of chairs, dancing with him. All of a sudden, it’s not just the two of us anymore. Dom and Kirill have joined in, so I’m now in the middle of all three of them.
My arms are hooked around Tino’s neck, and we bump and grind, but then he spins me around, and I find myself in Kirill’s arms. This man can dance, and I’m swept up in his moves. He rakes his bleached blond hair out of his face, a knowing smile trapped between his lips. Our hips move in perfect synchronicity, and, despite myself, the thought of what it would be like if we were fucking jumps into my head. All his focus is purely on me, his ice-blue gaze darting from my face down to where we’re grinding together. Is that his cock outlined beneath his jeans? Jesus Christ. My breath grows shorter, and I find myself practically rubbing up against the impressive line. If there was no clothing in the way, I could wrap my legs around his hips, and he’d slide straight inside me. I picture us fucking right here, with everyone around us, and wetness floods my panties. My hands slide around his back and slip under his t-shirt. I’m expecting to find smooth skin, but to my surprise I feel a patchwork of lines and ridges. My brow must furrow slightly, and he notices.
Instantly, he pulls back and turns me away. I collide with a solid chest and suck in a breath.
Dom and I just stand there, me with my hands pressed to his pecs, our bodies wedged together. He stares down at me, his expression utterly unreadable. No one else seems aware of the tension between us. It’s as though we’re frozen in this little bubble together, and the rest of the room fades away.
He leans in and speaks against my ear. “You might think you’re winning over my friends, but you’ll never get on my good side.”
I break the moment and step away. I hold his gaze, not wanting him to think he intimidates me. “I never thought you had a good side.”
Chapter 22
Mackenzie
I escape back to our seats to join Camile, picking up my popcorn from where I’d left the bucket on the floor, and shoving a handful in my mouth.
“You okay?” she asks.
“Of course, fine.” I feel like she’s asking that a lot of me lately. I can’t be much fun.
“You looked like you were having fun out there.”
“Just keeping them where I need them,” I reply. “I’m looking forward to that drink.”
She smiles. “Me, too.”
I’m also happy to leave Tino hanging. I don’t want him to think that he can just click his fingers and I’ll come running.
The boys all sit back down, and I studiously ignore them, focusing on the movie. I try not to think about how I was fantasizing about fucking Kirill on the dance floor.
When the movie finishes, I grab Camile’s hand and we head to the bar.
I realize I don’t actually know much about her, and instantly feel bad for it. I’ve been so caught up in my own shit that I haven’t made time for anyone else.
I’m buying. We both go for a diet Coke. I’ve learned my lesson when it comes to booze. I’m not promising to never drink again, because I’m sure that’s a promise I’ll break, but I’ll definitely take it easy.
We find a seat in the corner, away from prying eyes.
“So, how did you end up at Verona Falls?” I ask her.
She shrugs. “Much the same as everyone else here. My father’s a ‘businessman’”—bizarrely, she puts the word in air quotes with her fingers— “and had money he needed to keep on the downlow. It helped that he also had a daughter who needed educating, so he sent me here.”
I’m not sure what she means by ‘keep on the downlow.’ “You mean he got a tax break by sending you here?”
She looks at me like I’m telling a joke we’re both supposed to be part of and gives a small laugh. “Yeah, exactly. A tax break.”
