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The smile he gives her is much softer and less smug than any he’s given to me tonight. “Matteo Alvarado,” he answers, sticking his hand out to shake hers. My drunk friend easily grips his and shakes it. “Isla,” she responds. Wells shakes his head at the offered beer and I pass it on to James instead.
“As I gathered.” His amusement rings through me and something about that spells danger. Not sure why, but I don’t like his attention on my naive best friend.
“So you dance?” Baylor asks again, pushing a lock of blonde hair out of his face. I stare at him again, baffled by his costume until Beau pushes past Wells and throws an arm around his shoulders. “Aren’t we a cute couple?” he asks, poking Baylor in the cheek.
It clicks, and I snort, handing Beau a beer and he blows a kiss as thanks. “I didn’t realize your obsession ran quite this deep,” I tease Baylor, passing him a water as well.
Baylor rolls his eyes, looking at the water distastefully, but not arguing. “Beau picked it. I think I would have looked better in a dress.” His eyes drop to my chest and his smile is salacious. “Not as good as you look in that top though.”
Somehow the group has engulfed Matteo in the center of them and he raises his glass in agreement to Baylor’s words. He must have switched to whiskey while I was on stage and the amber liquid swirls in his glass, the ice clinking. The other beers I poured go to the remaining guys they brought with them, one who I recognize as the goalie, but the other is a stranger who stands on Matteo’s other side.
“You danced.” Baylor’s eyes flick between me and the stage.
I cock my head at him. Why is he so fixated on that? “We’ve established that.”
“She looked good too,” Matteo taunts, watching Baylor over the rim of his glass. “A natural. Though she should have let the other have her way.”
Baylor nods. “She does have great tits,” he agrees, before cutting himself off and looking back at me, his eyes dazed with alcohol. The water was definitely a good call. “But they look best on my phone.”
What the fuck is happening?
I stare at Baylor bewildered while the entire group cackles. Even Matteo chuckles, patting his shoulder. Beau squeezes his shoulder on the other side. “I told you she could throw a pebble in this place and hit someone who wants to fuck her.”
I don’t have time for this. I grab one of the tickets and begin to fill the drinks, placing them on trays but staying close to the group as I work. As the next hour passes quickly, I’m not sure which gaze is more unsettling, Baylor as his eyes follow me down the bar, growing with lust every time my breasts sway, or Matteo as his dark eyes flick back and forth between me and Baylor. Or if it’s the weight of Beau’s words that echo in my mind.
The rush begins to slow, the bar dwindling down to only our group and a few others. I didn’t notice the hot stranger–Matteo–leave, but I wasn’t paying close enough attention. Nodding to Alysha, I decide to take a quick break to run to the bathroom while I have the chance. It’s too early to start closing, but with luck, we won’t have another rush in the next hour and a half. Though it’s been known to happen on nights like this.
Turning the corner, I walk into the private bathroom meant for staff only. Someone catches the door a moment before it slams behind me, making me freeze. Spinning around, I relax as I realize it’s only Baylor. He grins at me sheepishly, slowly pushing the door shut behind him and locking it.
“You torture me, Torryn.”
I laugh, not able to take him seriously in his Taylor outfit. Even with the husky growl in his voice that always does things to my insides. “What are you doing, B?”
He grins, stalking across the small bathroom to back me against the counter. “How was I supposed to resist these?” He asks, pinching my pebbled nipples through the bikini top, eliciting a low moan of pleasure from my lips. “They’re begging to be tasted.” His large hands cup my breasts, pushing them together and kissing the tops of the swells it creates.
As good as it feels, every time I catch sight of the cheap blonde wig, I can’t help but chuckle. “I can’t take you seriously in that wig,” I tell him.
He drops his hold on my chest, pressing his erection against my thigh instead. “I’ve been hard for you since I saw you on that stage. I’m not too much of a man to beg, Torryn.”
Fuck it.
I’ve done shadier things at work.
Gripping the stupid wig, I yank it off his head and toss it in the trash. “Fine. But if you’re going to fuck me, fuck me as yourself.”
He growls, ripping the triangles apart to expose my breasts to his hungry gaze. “Thank fuck. I need to feel you.”
“Just make it fast,” I warn as he sucks on my nipple, pushing my shorts down and finding my slick center with his finger.
“I can do that,” he agrees, spinning me around and pushing my back to bend me in half. “Brace yourself,” he warns, lust making his voice drop. I balance myself with my hands against the wall just in time to feel his hard dick nudging at my entrance. He teases me, gripping my hair at the base of my neck and pulling back to whisper in my ear. “Do you know how many times I’ve dreamed about how good you felt around my bare cock? How messy I want to make your cunt? Come inside you and make you wear me for the rest of the night.” His laugh is bitter, scraping against my nerve endings in the best way possible. “Feel me dripping down your thighs while all those bastards out there stare at your chest wondering how good you taste, wishing they could get just a piece of you that I already stole.” He drives into me in one long hard thrust, drawing out a low moan. “Claimed.”
I clamp around him even as he withdraws and I hear the sound of foil tearing. We swore the last time we met in the bathroom would be the last time, but I completely forgot aboutit. Desperate for him to make good on his promise. “We kept our promise,” he says, chuckling darkly while he presses the tip of his cock back to my entrance. “I’ll be good for you since you don’t know how to be.”
“Bastard,” I whisper, but the pleasure leaking from every syllable does little to add any heat to the insult.
He hums, pulling my hair and picking up his pace as he drives into me. “You can call me anything you like, as long as you clench around me like that again.”
I do as he asks and he curses, making me grin. His fingers slide around to my front, searching for my clit and as he brushes over it, I mimic his curse. He tightens his grip in my hair and I tilt my head to the side, giving him a better grip.
