Page 3 of Bonded Through Bite

Fuck.

It’s not like I can just come back another night and try again. The clock is ticking and I really don’t want to go home alone tonight.

I eye the crowd again. If not him, then I’ll find someone else.

Some part of me recoils at that idea. My body doesn’t want anyone else, hasn’t for years. Too bad it doesn’t get a vote tonight.

Bass thrums as I make my way to the floor and the shots I downed start to take hold. It’s all coming back to me now, the soft buzz that numbs the pain from my feet, and the gentle spin in my head that tells me not to worry.

I love to dance.

I’ve always loved to dance. That’s the one thing I clung to through these years. And now it’s time to let go. Say my goodbyes. I won’t be coming back to the Lair ever again.

‘I lost control again…’ The words from the song resonate within me and I begin to move. My hips sway with the beat, and I lift my arms above my head. The slow thrum is heady, and I don’t worry about my hemline rising or people watching.

It’s just me and the music.

The lights flash and the smoke machine drowns the floor in a haze. I close my eyes and pretend that I’m alone on the floor. Dance like nobody’s watching. Except somebody is. I can feel their eyes all over my body and I smile. My eyes stay closed and I let my body flirt shamelessly with all of them.

Hands land on my hips and I let them pull me against a tight body. I don’t bother opening my eyes as we grind together, but when his hands start to wander, I step away. Soon, somebody else wraps his arms around me, and we dance a moment and then I break away. None of them can hold my interest over the music, not enough to open my eyes and break the beautiful illusion.

The DJ shifts to a more Latina beat and I let it seduce me all over again. My muscles ache, but I ignore it. It doesn’t matter if I’ll be sick as a dog tomorrow. I can indulge and blow my money on a day at a spa. Actually, that sounds like a marvelous idea. Sleep in late, grab a brunch on the way, and then spend the rest of the day getting pampered.

A new pair of hands spins me around and I land against a hard chest. My eyes fly open, but I know who it is even before I tilt my head back to look at his face.

Rafael.

Even in my heels, he’s a bit taller than me and his eyes flash. Anger or something else?

I don’t stop to think as I get on my tiptoes and kiss his hard mouth. Or more like declare war on his lips. His response is instant, but I refuse to back down. It’s a full-blown attack of teeth, tongue, and lips clashing. I feel the grumble in his chest and his fingers dig hard into my hips, but I don’t care as I press closer.

“Samantha,” he murmurs against my lips. His eyes look almost black in the flashing lights and I run my hand through his black hair, mussing it up a bit. He’s wearing his customary suit but no tie, and the top two buttons of his shirt are open. I want to lick his neck all over.

“Rafael,” I whisper back, not breaking the contact for a second. It’s him who pulls away.

“What are you doing, letting strangers paw at you?”

I shrug and rock my hips under his hands. “You weren’t here.”

The flash in his eyes is definitely anger this time. I should cower away, but it only turns me on more. I’m angry too. I grind against him, and the bulge in his pants gives me the confirmation I need to continue.

“Fuck,” he growls and pushes me back.

“Fine,” I snap and pry his hands loose. “If you don’t want what I’m offering, someone else will.” I spin around and take a step away. I don’t get far before his arms wrap around my waist and lift me off my feet.

“No,” he says straight into my ear.

“Yes.” I wriggle to get free.

“Oh no, darling. You don’t get to throw that in my face and walk away.”

“Let go of me.” I struggle harder, which brings my ass over his erection and I can’t control my hips from grinding closer, seeking contact.

Rafael curses under his breath and then we’re moving. By the time I catch my breath, he dumps me on one of the sofas in the VIP section. There’s murder in his eyes when he rakes his gaze over my dress and heels. Then his brown eyes narrow, and he crouches down, wrapping his hand gently around my ankle.

“You came here tonight in your fuck-me heels and that… dress, looking for me.”

I don’t bother denying it. “If you’re not interested…”