AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But I came here to show him what he lost, and I’m not the kind to back out so quickly.
“I hoped I’d see you again,” a deep tone rumbles through the VIP lounge, forcing me to lift my greedy eyes off Izaac and to the man standing behind Becs at the bar. For a moment, I assume it’s Ryatt Markin, keeping up his trend of stalking me the second I walk into the club, but I find a different face, one Becs has been very up close and personal with.
“Hey,” she says to the man who happily enticed her into the best group project she’s ever been a part of. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Same could be said for you,” he murmurs as his dark gaze lifts to mine, his eyes hooded and filled with a deep interest before dropping back to Becs. “I was starting to wonder if maybe we’d scared you off.”
“Not at all,” she says, her cheeks flushing. “It was . . . ummm . . . definitely a night to remember.”
“Are you interested in a repeat performance?” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over her skin.
“I . . . uhh. Don’t get me wrong, I really want to. That night was . . . wow. I’ve never experienced anything like it, but I’m waiting for someone, and I was hoping that maybe when he got here . . .”
The man laughs. “Say no more,” he chides. “I know that look. You’ve found someone special.”
Becs blanches. “Woah. Let’s not be hasty. Don’t you go scaring a girl by throwing around big accusations like that,” she says, greedily taking another long sip of her Cosmo as I laugh at her pain, desperately ignoring the heavy gaze coming from across the club. It’s strange he hasn’t disappeared into his office like he usually does when he’s not ready to play.
“And what about you?” the man asks, his gaze on mine as he steps around Becs and offers me his hand, his dazzling eyes locked on mine. “Caesar.”
I take his hand, my cheeks flushing under his heavy stare. “I’m Aspen.”
“Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”
Goddamn. My stupid cheeks. I feel the burning, but I also feel Izaac’s stare like two lasers penetrating the back of my head. “Thank you.”
His gaze drops to the green wristband. “You wear green,” he states.
“I do,” I say with a nod, lifting my Cosmo to my lips. “I’ve never done this before.”
Caesar nods. “We’ll take it slow,” he says, offering me his hand again. “Would you like to go somewhere a little more private?”
My gaze flicks toward Izaac, and I watch as he slowly shakes his head. Honestly, I don’t even know if he realizes he’s doing it, but his disapproval has me getting to my feet and placing my hand in his.
Caesar leads me across the VIP lounge toward a small seating area, and the nerves begin settling inside of me. It’s a little cramped over here and won’t allow for too many people, nothing like the wide-open space he was in with Becs last time. There were at least four guys with her that night, but this space will allow for three at most. Though so far, he hasn’t made a move to welcome anyone to the party.
He takes the glass out of my hand before placing it down on the small table in front of us. I expect him to ask me to sit down, to ease me into it, but instead, he moves in behind me, adjusting my body just enough to put me directly in Izaac’s eye line.
Caesar’s hands fall to my waist, his lips skirting over my neck. “Mmmm, beautiful Aspen. You smell divine,” he murmurs as his hand lowers down my thigh and brushes across my bare skin. I suck in a breath, melting back into him, unable to keep from picturing Izaac’s hands on my body, his lips on my neck.
His fingers find the spaghetti strap of my dress, and he slowly rolls it down my shoulder before his lips roam along the exposed skin. My knees shake, and as his hand clutches my waist, I feel another body step into my side.
I gasp, but before I can process, his hands are on me, grazing over my sensitive skin. There’s no denying how good it feels, but when my gaze shifts back to Izaac, I can’t help but feel this is wrong. So damn wrong.
Anger flashes in Izaac’s stare, his hands clenched at his side, and it’s clear that whatever bullshit I’m trying to prove, it’s working. He tracks their every movement, watching as their hands lay claim to what’s already his, as their lips dance across the skin he’s so familiar with.
Damn it feels so good, but they’re not him.
Izaac’s gaze moves back up to mine, and the hurt I see there reflects the agony that’s stared back at me through the mirror all week, and a part of me wants to keep going, wants to see how far I can push this, but the other part—the rational part—knows that I need to stop. This isn’t what I want, and all I’m doing is hurting him and myself.
Caesar’s hand slips down over my hip, trailing lower until it brushes over my thigh again, only this time he doesn’t follow the same trail back up, he lingers, his fingers pushing closer toward my core, and the second they brush across my pussy and my hips jolt in response, Izaac turns and walks away.
Agony tears through me, and without his eyes on me, the spell is broken, and all I feel is dirty. “Stop,” I say, my body tensing up. “Stop, please.”
The two men immediately pull back, their hands flying away from my body as though I’d physically hurt them, and I whip around, my eyes already starting to fill with tears. I need to make this right. How on earth could I have thought this was a good idea? Izaac would never sink to this level to try to make me hurt this way.
“Woah, pretty girl, is everything okay?” Caesar asks. “We didn’t hurt you?”
“No, not at all,” I tell them, letting them see the regret in my eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m just . . . I’m a mess. I had no business coming here tonight.”
