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I bit back a groan as his hand brushed me. It felt so damned good, even through my leggings.
His hand continued cradling my core as he tugged me up into his lap, sitting me on his thigh as he dropped smoothy onto a barstool.
“Is this some kind of sex game?” the guy asked, looking between us.
“Mmhm. You want in?” Zed practically purred. His hand was still pressing into my core, and hot damn, it felt so good I couldn’t even think straight.
The guy looked like he was considering it for a moment, and Zed’s hand pressed into me harder.
That touch alone nearly sent me over the edge... and I was still wearing pants.
My breath was coming out shallowly.
“Nah. Maybe another time,” the guy finally said, shaking his head. “My girlfriend would be pissed.”
Zed nodded. “I know how that is.”
Asshole.
Both of them were assholes.
In that moment, I didn’t care.
The guy slid a couple of partially-full glasses across the bar. “There’s a bathroom over there. I’m leaving for class in twenty, so you’ve got to be done and gone by then.”
“Thanks, man.” Zed grabbed a glass with his free hand and lifted it toward the guy in a toast, before tossing the liquid back.
The guy headed for a door off to our side, and I grabbed the other glass of liquid, sipping at it. I’d only had alcohol a couple of times; after witnessing what my dad had done with the shit in his system, I was paranoid.
The cup landed on the counter just as fast as I’d picked it up, and I coughed. “Gross.”
“On that, we agree,” Zed said, picking up the glass and swallowing that too.
“Then why did you drink it?”
“I just walked in on my mate trying to convince some random guy to fuck her and had to act like I’d even consider letting him into our bed. Pretty sure that’s a good enough reason,” Zed drawled.
His hand was still wrapped around my crotch—a fact that did not go unnoticed—and I was still sitting on his lap.
With his erection digging into my ass.
“You’re not even attracted to me,” I shot back.
He didn’t say anything for a moment.
“This is ridiculous. Just let go of me, and—” Before I finished speaking, he stood, spun me, and set my ass down on the counter.
Our eyes were level, our faces less than an inch apart. His hands were on either side of me, his chest rising and falling faster than I expected. I was sure as hell breathing hard too—and my aching body wasn’t the only reason for that.
There was a tense silence. Tense enough that when it ended, I was almost confident it was going to explode like a damn bomb.
I waited for him to say something—and waited longer.
Finally, he spoke. “Seems like there’s been a misunderstanding, June.”
I blinked.
My breathing was still unsteady.
