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“No. But you know me.” Cam’s hand settled on her knee, and Julie gave a nervous glance. She and Cam had dated for like, five minutes a few years ago, but other than occasionally dancing if they ran into each other, there was nothing between them.
“So what do you think, Jules? You think you’ll stop by? For old times’ sake?”
His gaze roamed over her body, letting her know exactly which old times he wanted to relive.
Julie hesitated. Attending a party at Blink for a girl she didn’t know was the last thing she wanted to do, and yet … what the hell else would she have going on? Certainly not Mitchell.
“Sure,” she said with a shrug. “I’ll stop by.”
“She won’t,” Mitchell said, his arm dropping on Julie’s shoulder as his eyes fixed on Cam’s hand on her leg.
Cam gave an easy smile and quickly removed his hand. “Sorry, dude. Didn’t know it was like that.”
“It’s not—” Julie began.
“It is,” Mitchell said, cutting her off.
Cam whistled and stood up. “Can’t say I ever thought anyone would tame Julie Greene, but congrats, man. That’s quite the feat.”
He gave her a wink and was on to the next table before Julie could process what had just happened. Finally she turned to Mitchell, glaring fiercely into unreadable eyes. “Are you serious right now?”
“I hate that phrase. It sounds like something a teenager would say.”
Julie’s anger was roaring so loudly she could barely hear the music. “What the hell was that, Mitchell? You tell me I’m just a fling, and yet you won’t let me go to a party?”
“You know full well that’s not what that loser was after.”
“What was he after?”
Mitchell’s gaze flicked down to her skimpy outfit. “He was after whatever you’re selling.”
Julie itched to slap him. “Well, he’s more than free to shop here, because I’m not taken.”
“Wrong.” And then he kissed her again, his lips savage and hungry.
Mitchell moved suddenly, jerking Julie to her feet. She wanted to ask where they were going, but she could barely think, much less speak. Anger warred with confusion, and both emotions battled against her aching want for this man and whatever game he was playing with her.
To her surprise, he led her to the dance floor, weaving her adeptly through the mob of bodies until it felt like they were in the very center of the crowd.
Julie let out an involuntary gasp as he yanked her close. For a nightclub novice, he certainly understood how this kind of dancing worked. As in, it wasn’t really dancing at all. At least not in the way any of their parents would define the word.
It was more like hot, frantic writhing.
And Julie found she really liked writhing with Mitchell.
His hands moved briefly over her neck, pushing her hair back over her shoulders and skimming a finger over each shoulder blade, the gentle touch conflicting with his savage expression. Slowly his hands crept around to her back, and she cried out softly as his fingers curled into the ends of her long hair and pulled her head backward, exposing her throat and forcing her to meet his gaze. The look in his eyes was feral and dangerous, and yet she found she couldn’t look away.
Instead she moved her hands restlessly over his chest, wanting … something. Anything.
And then his hands moved to her hips and he began to move.
Julie was no stranger to the intimate nature of the Pair dance floor, but never before had it felt quite so distinctly like sex. The press of strangers on every side of them, the sound of the DJ’s voice, the high-pitched cackling of women there for a drunken bachelorette party—it all faded away.
There was nothing but her and Mitchell, hip to hip, chest to chest.
Eye to eye.
The tempo of the music changed from something fun and upbeat to something sultry and driving, and he pulled her even closer, his hands roaming over every inch of her body that he could touch. She intentionally tilted her hips up until she was rubbing against him, her eyes locked on his.
