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If he is? Well, I’ve done my best to gift wrap myself in something that’s sure to catch his eye.
As soon as we’re inside we make our way straight to the dance floor. Moving to the rhythm of the music, or more accurately flailing around in a way that displays no rhythm, is the exact release I need, no matter how goofy and uncoordinated I might look. It’s a huge relief to finally get out all the frustration and finally be able to let loose a bit. Add in the fact that I’m here with friends, able to spend time with them even though they’re going to be heading off to another country soon to study, and it’s pure bliss…until after only a few minutes of dancing when Delia is quickly approached by a guy behind her who starts to grind into her body. She flashes me a nervous look and tries to plaster on a smile that only telegraphs her concern and increasing worry.
My body goes tense when I hear a voice from behind me and feel a horribly familiar pair of hands around my waist. “Hey, Gina. Where the hell have you been?” The voice is playful but it makes me go cold right away. Peter.
I smack his hands away and turn around to face him. Immediately he lifts his grubby paws in the air as if pretending that he wasn’t trying to grind up onto me as well. I glance over and Delia is looking at us, but I quickly shake my head. I can take care of myself, after all. When this asshole tried to get too far during our third date I managed to squeeze his balls hard enough to make him cry. But then he kicked me out of the car and I had to call an Uber to get home. Asshole. “Fuck off, Peter.”
His eyes go dark, just like they did that night in his car after he tried to lock the doors and then overpower me. Guys always think that just because they manage to find out I’m a virgin, they have to be the first. Little boys pretending to be men.
Peter’s eyes soften and he laughs nervously. “Come on, Gina. We’re here to have fun.” He reaches forward and I slap his hand away, stalking off the dance floor. Fuck, now my night is ruined. And he’s not getting the hint, trailing behind me like a fucking idiot. Maybe in the bathroom I can get away from him.
But I don’t make it inside the ladies’ room because just before I do he grabs my wrist. Despite my ability to pull away quickly, he manages to get a hold of me on his second attempt. Now he’s angry and he shows it by pushing me against the wall by the bathroom door. Becoming more forceful with every passing second he says in an accusatory, bossy tone, “Hey, listen. I just wanted to see you again. To talk about what happened.”
“What, when you tried to fucking rape me?” I spit in his face and his demeanor predictably goes from bad from worse, his pursed lips and straining neck showing he’s clearly becoming enraged.
A couple of the girls watching laugh at the scene playing out before them, and he doesn’t take their unwelcome attention well at all. His ego kicks in as he thinks I’ve made him the butt of some girl joke by first resisting him and then spitting on him. Now, his masculinity apparently questioned, he’s out to show me who’s tougher, and he does exactly that by tightening his grip on my shoulders…which is the exact opposite way a guy would go about demonstrating he was a real man in a situation like this. A situation that’s going from bad to worse, and one he clearly caused.
“Fuck, you’re such a damned prude. Probably can’t even suck a dick properly,” he hisses at me.
“You call that tiny thing between your legs a dick?” I fire back and that sends him over the edge. He’s really pissed now. Poking the bear has always been one of my problems. Probably get it from my mother.
His hand snakes up my body and he grabs me by the throat, but the second his fingers find my windpipe they’re off me. Without warning he’s hoisted clean off his feet, into the air. Out of nowhere it’s like he’s a rag doll flying across the hallway into the other wall.
I can hear an audible crunch and suddenly his nose explodes, blood flowing from his face compliments of someone I’m able to quickly identify, despite the strobe lights, fog machines, and mess of bodies suddenly gathering around.
Gio.
Holy shit, he’s here.
One punch and Peter crumples to the floor, a river of crimson spilling out across his body and drenching his clothes. Everyone around us gasps and a couple of bouncers come running, but Gio gives them a single fierce look and they stop short. He’s bigger than both of them anyway, and they are not small guys.
Taking me by the wrist he leads me through the club without a word. Once we’re outside he finally turns me around and looks me in the eye. I can see blood on his hand and it’s scary that it makes me oddly…aroused…to know that he just bloodied himself defending me. “Who was that?” he demands to know, his voice commanding, powerful, and sounding ready to enact even more revenge if Peter has friends here at the club.
“Nobody. Just a guy I used to know. Not a boyfriend or anything.” I’m fearful of telling him anything more.
“Good,” he says, nodding as if this nugget of confirming knowledge he’s been handed verifies no one will even be remotely close to trying to come between the two of us. Even if someone had considered it, his demonstration seconds ago would have been enough to ward off any potential suitors, precluding them from even trying out of a rightful fear for their own safety. He just had to know I didn’t have a boyfriend, my verbalization of it like music to his ears.
But what does that mean for us?
“My car is over there. I’m taking you home.”
Without even arguing or pressing him to answer my question which he just dismissed out of hand, I know I want to go with him. We climb into his car and his hand grabs my thigh possessively as I slide in beside him. I like it. The way he touches me is sexy as hell, and he’s not afraid to show me that he wants to have his hands on me…possessively.
I’m so worked up from the encounter with Peter I can feel my panties are wet. I want to slide them off and hand them to Gio as a way to show him that he can touch me more if he wants to. The image in my mind is sliding across the car seat and feeling his body grinding against mine.
He guns the engine, slamming the stick shift into first gear after the engine’s already revving hard. We peel out of the parking lot, screeching towards home. At least that’s where I assume we’re going, although I don’t care at all where he’s taking me, I just want to see if his possession of me translates into what I hope it does. His big hands and his sexy lips all over my body, taking charge of me in another way…and truly making me his in the process. Forever.
Chapter Five
Gio
Iswing the car into the driveway and stop it with a jerk. Her long legs have been teasing me during the entire drive, and I’ve been dying to find out what color her panties are. “If that guy ever comes near you again, I want you to tell me.”
There’s no way I’m letting any other man touch her ever again. She’s mine.
“Okay.” She says simply. She doesn’t make a move to get out of the car. “Thank you for doing that.”
Instead of answering I open my door and walk around to open hers. Again, as she steps out it’s impossible not to wrap my warm around her waist. The house in front of us is quiet, likely our parents went to bed hours ago. The dress she’s wearing is sinfully short, and while it makes me feel protective, I also know that her sexy little ass would be revealed if I just tug it up.
