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Ozzie shoves a cold beer in my hand. I’m herded over toward the giant double fudge cake on the table and sang an off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday.”
At the end, I refuse to blow out my candles alone. I grab Sydney by the elbow and yank her over to join me.
“Blow,” I say.
Her eyes smile at me the way they shine. “Maybe later. In private.”
“Definitely fucking later,” I growl, leaning close to her ear. “But right now too. Blow.”
Everybody cheers as the candles go out.
The party really begins after that. The music’s cranked up, blasting so loud we drown out every other bar on the block. The flames in the bonfire crackle and lick at the night’s air. A group of Tits on Heels parade through in skimpy skirts and tube tops to dance. Slices of cake are passed around alongside cans of beer.
The patio becomes one big focal point of celebration.
Being the brooding ass I am, I try to stick to the outskirts. I sip on my beer and indulge in a slice of fudge cake, keeping my distance from the crazy shit popping off.
Sydney refuses to let me be a spectator at my own birthday party.
“No you don’t,” she says, grabbing my hands. “Dance with me.”
“I don’t dance.”
“But you move your hips so well.”
A naughty glint flashes in her gaze that only adds to her sexiness—tonight she’s got on one of those thin summer dress’s women wear that shows off plenty of leg and teases their chest and bare shoulders all in one go.
Fuck, does it look amazing on her.
The only birthday present I want is that dress on my floor and Sydney in my bed, legs spread wide and me balls deep in her pussy.
Sydney drags me away from the edge of the patio, closer to where the music blasts from the stereos. I stand stock-still, folding my arms across my chest, watching as she starts dancing anyway.
The hard-edged yet seductive notes of Pour Some Sugar on Me plays. She slips into a sexy little dance in front of me. We might as well be alone the sultry way she rocks her hips and keeps her warm brown eyes on me.
Damn anybody else who sees.
This is only for me.
A grin chases away the serious, composed expression on my face. I crook my index finger, signaling for her to come closer. She does, dancing still, moving that fucking sexy body of hers every step of the way.
The second she’s close enough, I snatch her up. My hands clamp down on her waist and I reel her toward me ’til she’s flush up against my chest. I bend my head and let my mouth hover over hers.
“I want you to do that tonight. In my bedroom. Private birthday striptease.”
“Mmm, can’t wait. I’m going to ride you like a damn Harley, Mace,” she hums, her face tipped up toward mine. Her hips sway against me, like she can’t help how her body moves so naturally to the music.
I let out a throaty laugh. “I’m thinking, it’s my birthday. So I get to use all your holes tonight.”
The way her eyes widen makes me crack up all over again. But she doesn’t object—she only continues grinding against me like the sexy fucking tease she is.
We keep it up for two more songs. Sydney dancing against me while I grip her up and grope her. You might as well call it foreplay; by the time the third song ends, we’re hot and turned on.
“Mick asked me to help clean up the bar. It should only take a few minutes. But when I get back…”
“I’ll be waiting.” I palm her ass and plant a deep kiss on her mouth.
She scurries off, disappearing into the Steel Saloon.
