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I liked his answers to my questions tonight, though. It didn’t feel like they were answers he’d toss out to just any girl he was here with. It felt like he was considering each question in the context of our current situation, and answering me honestly.
Maybe this situation was new for him too, in some ways.
“Is this different?” I asked him. “From what you’re used to?
“In what way?”
“I mean… you’re used to being here with women who know what they want and why they’re here and probably don’t have a million questions about it. Women who are ready and willing to play your way.”
He smirked a little. “And you’re not?”
“No. I mean, yes—I am.” And now I was blushing, again. “It’s just… Is it different being here with me? Because I’m not… used to this?”
“It is different.”
“Do you like it? Or is it weird?”
He looked deep into my eyes for a hot, lingering moment. Then he said: “Touch me.”
I turned in his arms to face him, pressing my body against his. I slid my hand between us. My fingertips found the rock-hard ridge straining his pants, and I drifted my hand down the length of it, giving him a little squeeze.
He spoke low in my ear. “What do you think? Do I like it?”
“I think so.”
“Not only do I like it… I want to hike you up onto the bar and fuck you in front of all these people, so every one of them knows exactly who you belong to right now. But I’m not sure I like any of them looking at you. Because I’mnotinside you.” He gazed at me from under hooded eyes as my heart thudded.
Who you belong to…
The overspill of the lights from the dance floor shimmered in his hair, and I was struck by the memory of that first time I’d ever seen him, standing in the entrance of that lounge in Whistler, with rain drops glistening in his hair.
That memory used to upset me.
It didn’t now.
As we stared at each other, it struck me that seeing him, looking at him, being close to him, no longer made me feel shitty and regretful. Meeting him, being attracted to him, wasn’t some terrible joke from the universe, fucking with me.
He was just straight-up amazing, maybe. And maybe I was really letting myself see it.
And I was here with him.
How?
“Do you want that, Jolie?” he asked me. “Do you want me to slide up your little skirt and fuck you right here in front of all these people?”
“Um… talking about it is sexy. But no.”
“Cold?”
“Definitely cold.”
“Then let’s find something that gets you hot.”
Hedid.Hegot me hot.
Shane Madrigal. Holding my hand as he guided me through the club.
We left our emptied drink glasses on the table and went for another walk, and I realized I kind of liked the way people looked at him.
