Cy turned around. “You all right, doll?”
“Yeah, thank you. I didn’t think he’d get so violent.” A smirk lit his face, and he said something I pretended not to hear. I leaned in, my breasts just barely brushing his chest, and put my lips to his ear. “I can’t hear—do you think we could…” I gestured away from the bar.
He put his hand around my waist and pulled me to the back of the room, away from the dance floor. The crowd thinned, a few games hanging on the wall. His hand didn’t leave my waist as he circled in front of me.
“Now, isn’t that better?” He gave me a smile that was all charm and seduction. He was beautiful, in that shattered way. Gorgeous in all his harsh edges and jagged lines. He wasn’t as big as Maddox, but he was strong—I could feel it in the light touch at my hip. And in the aching of my ribs.
“Yeah, thanks. It was just…too many people over there.” I lowered my eyes. His wicked grin grew in my peripheral.
“No worries, doll, I’ve got you. I was saying—it’s not really safe for a girl like you in places like this.”
I raised an eyebrow. “A girl like me?”
He laughed. “Yeah, a girl from Sky. This place will eat you alive.”
My shoulders slumped. “Was it that obvious?”
He laughed again, not a kind laugh. “You might as well have put a giant neon bullseye on your back.”
I shifted, pressing into him ever so slightly. “But I can trust you, right? You’re a nice guy. You’ll protect me?” His eyes dilated, and I had to suppress my grin. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Better than your friend over there, that’s for sure.” He flung his thumb over his shoulder, and my gaze followed it.
I looked over—Mercy had her tongue deep down Maddox’s throat, the two of them groping each other like teenagers in a shadowy corner. I chuckled. Maybe I was a little rusty at this game, but Cy was still watching me, and I knew I had to play this one carefully. I’d waited far too long to blow it by being overeager.
My arm snaked around Cy’s waist, and I leaned close, lips brushing his ear. “Then we’ll just have to have our own fun, won’t we?”
“Fuck yeah.”
I spun away from him and grabbed the handsets for the closest game off the wall, flashing him my sweetest grin. “Teach me how to play.”
He blinked, caught off guard by the bait and switch for only a heartbeat. But then his grin faltered. He barely hid his annoyance. I was walking a thin line, and I knew he wasn’t the type to tolerate too much teasing. I had to play it just right, stretch the clock without snapping the tension.
He forced his smile back on and walked over to me. He grabbed his own handset, sliding the small metal cups over the tips of his fingers and strapping the wristband tight. Once in place, he snapped his fingers, and the device flashed to life. The board on the wall lit up, and I saw his Vysor glow with the game menu. He flipped through the options, double-tapped, and witha flick of his hand, a small dart made of blue light appeared between his fingers.
“Darts?” I asked.
“I figured we’d start simple.”
I strapped on my handset, and a violet dart appeared in my hand. He circled behind me and placed both hands on my waist—possessive. The heat of his touch burned along my skin, tracing above the top edge of my skirt. My stomach churned, a tangle of rage and something much worse merging together. He wouldn’t let me dance away from him again.Good.
He explained the rules, then stepped back.
“You go first. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
I lined up my shot, pumped my arm a few times, and released. The dart missed the board entirely, vanishing in a puff of light.
Cy laughed—kinder, this time. “They don’t teach you how to aim at that fancy university?”
Before I could answer, he pressed himself up against my back, one hand shifting to my stomach. I had the fleeting thought—God, I hoped he couldn’t feel the heat curling beneath his fingers—when he kicked my feet farther apart. I stumbled, but he caught me, holding me to him, his mouth coming to rest on the curve of my ear.
“It’s all about visualizing what you want…before you take the shot.” The hand on my stomach clenched tighter. His other hand ran slowly up my arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. He placed his long fingers over mine and guided my hand for another shot.
It flew, landing in the double-points zone.
“There, you’ve got it now. Here—this’ll help too.” He reached inside his jacket, and I saw a quick flash of fluorescent green. My chest tightened. He held out a military-grade Vector cartridge to me. I bit my lip.
“I don’t know…” I mumbled. The hesitation was real. I’d been clean for nearly six months, but that florescent green liquid was as tempting now as it had ever been.
