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Eyes locked on his, I played with Josh’s hair. I didn’t enjoy it half as much as running my nails over the base of Storm’s neck. Nor did I like the way Josh smelled. I thought I caught a whiff of Irish Spring soap. My dad’s favorite. The opposite of sexy to me.
Josh turned us again, the song finishing soon after. He kissed the top of my hand. “Can I buy you a drink?”
I looked to where Storm had been. He was gone. I scanned the bar but didn’t see him anywhere. Guess he didn’t want to talk to me after all.
I was disappointed. Maybe I only needed to see Storm again to help get over him. To stop thinking about him. Except, seeing him increased my frustration.
“How about that drink?” Josh asked with a charming grin.
“Sure, why not…”
12
Storm
“Gimme another,” I barked at Copper. When Track and I returned to the clubhouse, I went straight for the bar and my favorite stool. I’d been in the same spot the last two fuckin’ hours.
I felt like I might go insane as images of Madeline dancing withCowboy Dickpummeled me.
“You could’ve dragged her off the dance floor, y’know.”
I glared at Track. “Like a fuckin’ caveman? Think that would’ve made her happy?”
“Since when do you care about making a woman happy?” He eyed me, taking a pull of his beer.
“Fuck off.” I gritted my teeth. Fuckin’ Track.
A hand brushed over my thigh. “Hiya Storm. Looking a little stressed tonight. Something I can help you with?” Carla purred, rubbing her body against my shoulder like a cat.
Dammit. I didn’t need her shit tonight, but maybe… Maybe she was just the thing I needed to get Madeline off my mind. Nah, I hadn’t lost all sense.
“Not in the mood for you.”
Her hand stroked my crotch just like I knew she would—nothing. I felt nothing. Not a twinge, zing, or jerk of my cock. Carla kept stroking. I didn’t object since I needed to test out my dick.
Track grumbled, but I couldn’t understand what he said.
I tilted my head toward him. “What?”
Track lifted his bottle to his lips. “You keep that shit up, and you’ll be guilt-ridden in the morning.”
“You okay, Storm?” Carla had a perplexed expression on her face. No doubt because I wasn’t getting hard for her.
“Get gone, Carla.” I brushed her hand away.
She pouted, slithering away.
“I don’t need you babysitting me, man.”
“Appears you do if you’re letting Carla get you off.” Track made a gagging face. He never liked Carla. Fake tits never did it for him.
They didn’t do it for me either, but I never messed with Carla’s. Didn’t need to when on her knees with my dick in her mouth or bent over a table. Why she kept coming back for more was a mystery.
Why I kept fuckin’ her showed just how fucked up in the head I was with women.
Well, before Madeline.
Until Madeline, I didn’t talk to women, romance, flirt, or dance with them. I sure as hell didn’t kiss them as if my life depended on it. And not one woman before Madeline made me as rock hard as she did.
