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Leaning up, I drag my lips across his jaw, to his ear, “Back room?”
I feel his cheek lift with his smile. And without a word, he nudges me to a stand, taking my hand and joining me. Before we leave the group, I down one more shot—some liquid courage—and then let the big brute drag me across the packed platform that overlooks the dance floor.
The heavy, sultry music blaring from the DJ booth, reverberates through my chest, pounding in time with my pulse.
The tequila pools warmly in my gut, and a buzzing fills my fingers.
From inside the back pocket of my jeans, my phone vibrates. But I ignore it.
Sam leads me past the bathrooms, and down a hallway to where there are curtained-off corridors. The music is still heavy back here, heavy enough to drown out most of the grunts and moans coming from behind the thick black velvet curtains.
It’s infectious—the energy here. Gone are the restraints that I’d feel just about anywhere else. Here, in this gay club in the hub of the city, surrounded by people from all walks of life just looking to let loose, free to explore their baser needs and desires in a way that is open and free of any shame…
We find a free stall, and Sam leads me inside.
He drags the curtain closed, plunging us into darkness.
And then he’s on me…
And I’m all over him.
And for a little bit, it’s no longer my birthday.
When it’s over, and I’m zipping up my fly, Sam says out from the other side of the stall, “Your phone fell out. Looks like someone’s been trying to reach you.”
Craning my neck, I meet his gaze, his face lit up blue from the screen on my phone.
It’s ringing, not that I can hear the vibrations over the music.
Frowning, I quickly take it from him. I don’t even have to look down to see who it is, but still, my eyes can’t help themselves.
Jaw working, I nod stiffly, and hit End.
The last thing I want to do right now is talk to him.
Not today of all days.
Not when I can still feel a slight twinge in my ass from having just cashed in my anal V-card.
It’s not a bad twinge—Sam was…gentle…more gentle than I wanted, if I’m being honest—but it isn’t pleasant either. Sure when he hit my p-spot it was, but other than that, mostly it was just…anticlimactic.
“Hey,” Sam says, louder suddenly. I didn’t hear him approach.
A hand cups my cheek, and I have to will myself not to flinch away.
This happens every fucking time.
“You okay? I didn’t…I didn’t hurt you, or-or?—”
Despite how dark it is, I resist an eye roll. He’s being nice. Stop being a dick.
“No, no, I’m good,” I say on a rasp.
There’s a pause, and I can practically feel him warring with himself.
“I know you wanted it this way, but?—”
“I meant it,” I cut in quickly. “No regrets, promise. I… Thank you.”
