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“You think?” I find myself asking, needing some of the happiness and positive energy she carries around with her.
“I know he will. There’s nothing Alaric wouldn’t do for you.” She squeezes my hand and sips her drink again with a gag. “Fuck, seriously, Zoey, what is this shit?”
“It’s called a Zombie.” I giggle, unable to help it, and she laughs even as she pushes the drink away.
“Of course it is.” She sighs and then looks at the table, picking at her nails. My eyes narrow. I’ve spent this whole night whining about my life, and now that I’m really looking, I realize something is wrong. There are bags under her eyes, which isn’t like her—she’s meticulous with her sleep and night routines—and her nails are chipped.
Cara is never not perfectly put together. Her father makes sure of that. If there were one loose strand on the top of her hair, I’m sure the man would have a conniption. Anal is the best adjective that I have for her overbearing father, and not the fun type either.
“Enough about me, what’s wrong?” I demand.
Her head jerks up. “Nothing, why?”
“Liar.” I raise my eyebrow. “I know you better than that, Cara. Talk to me.”
“Nothing. Okay, it’s just my dad is under a lot of pressure right now, and I guess it’s just filtering through. I promise that’s all.” She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. If there’s one thing I know about Cara, it’s that she won’t talk unless she’s good and ready, so I don’t push it. “So tell me about Gray.” She wiggles her eyebrows.
Laughing, I wave my hand and order us both another round. I lean in, and she copies me, our heads bent together. “He’s amazing. I meanamazing, Cara, and the things he can do with his tongue—”
The drinks keep flowing, and we laugh louder and louder, talking about everything and anything. There are no worries, just friends in our own little world.
Excusing myself to the bathroom, I leave her reading over the cocktail menu for the next creation she’s going to make me drink. As I wind through the tables, a golden watch brushes my hand as a woman in a black dress hurries past me.
For a moment, I still as a memory crowds my mind of a woman in a black dress coming into my room when I was younger, at the home, with a gold watch sparkling on her arm before I blink it away. Turning around, I force my legs to move, and I head downstairs to the bathrooms, the winding metal stairs clanking with my heels. At the bottom, the women’s room has a massive line, but I spot a private cubicle, maybe the staff toilet, and quickly pick the lock and sneak inside.
I need to pee too badly to wait.
Turning to the mirror, I rub at the smudged eyeliner under my eye, blinking.
“Lock the door. Shit, this alcohol must be strong.” I giggle, and I’m just about to turn to the lock on the door when it suddenly opens and a man slips inside.
I stumble back, blinking as I’m abruptly turned so I’m facing the mirror. Gray towers behind me, so I relax into him with a slightly drunk smile as he arches his brow. “When you said you had plans, I didn’t think you meant getting drunk while discussing my cock, baby.”
Laughing, I lay my head back as he watches me. “I knew you would stalk me here.”
“Hmm, is that why you wore this ridiculous dress I want to tear from your body?” He snarls, tugging at the tight black bodycon material that clings to my every curve. I paired it with the red heels, and I know I look killer.
“Maybe,” I flirt, licking my bright red lips as he watches. “What are you going to do about it?”
“Exactly what you want me to do,” he retorts, gripping the dress and ripping it up, exposing my naked ass and pussy. “No panties, little doe?”
“Easy access.” My hands hit the sink as I push back.
Groaning, Gray slides his hands up my thighs and shoves them open.
“Fuck, I loved watching you tonight and seeing all the men who wished they could get even a glance from you, their greedy fucking eyes watching every move my girl made. You loved it too, knowing I was there and would kill anyone who tried to touch what’s mine.” He grunts as he cups my wet pussy, grinding his palm into my clit.
I gasp. “Such a stalker.”
“You love it,” he snaps, biting my neck.
“I do.” I groan. “Now fuck me, prove to them I’m yours.”
“Oh, I will, baby, and then you’ll go back out there with my cum sliding down these pretty thighs for everyone to see,” he says as he slides his fingers down my folds and thrusts them inside me. My head hangs as he fucks me with them, but all too quickly, they are gone.
I hear his zipper, and I can’t help groaning, knowing what’s to come and the pleasure he will give me.
“Gray,” I beg, needing him to hurry up.
