AllFreeNovel
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Mia and I walk the block to the club. It’s been years since I’ve been to the West coast, but I remember a local club called The Peach Pit. It’s an upscale place, with a dress code, but Mia is dressed to the nines and I am, too.
There are two bars, one upstairs and one downstairs, and two dance floors, as well. The one upstairs is usually less crowded, so I take Mia upstairs, keeping hold of her hand tightly as we weave through all the people standing around and grinding on each other.
The dance floor remains packed enough that was all the dancing we could do, Mia sliding her ass against my crotch, putting her hands up and into her long hair.
I grit my teeth, taking her hips in my hand and pressing her back against me. We’ve both had enough to drink at dinner that we don’t need more, but after a few songs I’m hot and sweaty and hard beneath my slacks.
“I need a break,” I say loudly next to Mia’s ear, and she nods, turning to look at me briefly while still shaking her hips. I smile down at her and head toward the bar, ordering us both a couple of waters.
I watch her as I wait for our waters from the busy bartender, sliding her a twenty dollar bill for her trouble. Mia looks gorgeous in that gold colored cocktail dress. It compliments her olive skin and clings to every curve. She’s tall in those five inch heels, but I still tower over her. I watch the curve of her waist as she moves, her blue eyes sultry and right on me. I watch as a pair of arms go around her waist, as some guy locks his hands on her belly and Mia’s face changes, goes blank.
My smile fades and I abandon the waters, stalking back to the dance floor. My blood boiling.
“You can’t cut in,” the guy slurs, some idiot with an unkempt beard and a cheap suit.
“You can’t touch my wife,” I growl, and shove him.
He makes a face and Mia stumbles, but I steady her with a hand on her waist.
She grins up at me as the guy moves away from the dance floor, clearly seeing something on my face that tells him I would win the fight if he started one.
“Were you jealous, baby?” she asks me, wrapping her arms around my neck and swaying slowly against me to the beat of the music.
“Wouldn’t call it jealous,” I say, speaking loud enough that she could hear me over the boom of the bass. “Just don’t like sharing.”
She laughs, loud and open, her face lighting up. “I think that’s the definition of jealous.”
I shrug and smile again, my face still feeling hot with anger. I hate it when guys try to butt in when I am out with a woman, and maybe being married to Mia makes it worse. I take in a deep breath through my nostrils. I can’t exactly act the way I do back home, because I don’t have the same contacts with the police here. I have a few officers in my pocket back in the city, but here in Los Angeles, I’m likely to get arrested for assault.
Not that it would have stopped me. I have the tendency to snap when I’m really mad, and I was quickly getting to that point seeing someone else’s hands on Mia.
Should that worry me?
Mia distracts me by leaning up to kiss me, sticking her tongue through my parted lips and sliding it against mine. I groan into her mouth, putting my hands on her ass and she giggles, moving away.
“Not yet,” she taunts. “You’re the one who wanted to take me dancing.”
She shifts, leaning forward and shaking her ass against my hands, and I can see down her low-cut dress, between her breasts.
“You tease,” I murmur, staring at her hotly, and Mia just laughs again, turning around to dance on me for the next song.
I’m going to have blue balls if we stay here any longer and I can’t walk out of here with a full erection, so I take her hand and lead her to the hallway of the bathrooms.
“We’ll get out of here after I run to the restroom,” she says, a shine of sweat across her brow.
I smile at her and watch her go into the bathroom, going in myself to wash my hands and splash water on my face. When I come out of the bathroom, she’s nowhere to be found, and I frown.
I walk out back, and she isn’t out there, either. She must have gone out the front.
I’m about to go around the corner when I see that asshole who had touched Mia, standing there with another guy who looks just as scuzzy and cheap.
“She had this little yellow dress, her tits spilling out all over the place,” he’s saying to his friend. “Such a fucking cocktease, you know? Dancing by herself. Then her asshole of a boyfriend walks up and gives me attitude, so I pushed him off me.”
“So, where’s the girl?” the other man asks.
I freeze in place, rage rushing over me. I don’t know what it is that pisses me off so much, something about the nonchalant way he called her names, talked about her tits. He has no right to talk about her that way. Mia is mywife,even if it’s in name only. There’s no fucking way I’m letting him get away with that, especially after he had the gall to touch her.
I walk over to him and as he turns to me, I grin at him and punch him directly in the face.
