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“All right, Bitch. Let’s go dance our asses off,” Jenni giggles, pulling me forward toward the red double doors.
Dancing in six-inch heels should be illegal. So should the strong alcohol coursing through my underage veins. Oh, wait, it is. It’s stupid how it tastes so damn good on my tongue. I want to swim inside a glass of it and never leave.
“Oh my God,” Jenni slurs, swaying beside me with her arms in the air. “I think the Devils are in their little hidey hole,” she giggles at that, doing some awkward dance I can’t quite put my finger on.
Is she twerking? God, I hope not. Pretty sure that's not how twerking works. I tilt my head in fascination as she giggles, putting her hands on her damn toes. Her ass sways in the air back and forth, garnering attention from a group of guys from across the bar who scream bad news and danger. Oh, God. I stiffen. My fascination turns into horror when she jiggles her damn peach too close to the sun, and her ass cheeks fall completely out of her dress, flashing the entire club her goods. Shit. The guys from across the way rearrange their junk, watching her with lust in their eyes. Fuck balls! Not today, Satan! I lean forward, pulling her itty-bitty dress over her round peaches, and huff at her antics.
"Jenni, stand up. You're flashing your cock pocket to the entire damn club," I hiss, reaching down and helping her stand up. She grins at me and kisses my cheek with appreciation.
"You always look out for me, don't you?"
Mmmhmm. Something like that.
"Of course. You're my bestie," I say, fixing her red curls as we begin to dance together. "Just don't bend over again. Unless you want Elias to murder half this place."
Her cheeks turn pink. "Mmm. I think they like you. They're watching you," she hiccups, leaning her forehead on my shoulder like we're slow dancing at our middle school dance.
"Who?" I ask, pulling her closer as she stumbles over her feet.
"The Devils, bestie. They're watching," she hiccups, nodding in a weird direction. "In their hidey hole," she sings, throwing her head back with a laugh.
Jesus Christ. She's drunker than a skunk. Hell, she acts like she's about to collapse in my arms and black out. Or, God, puke.
Wait.
"The Devils?" I ask, looking around the dance floor, trying to find them. "And a hideout?” My eyes continue to look around the packed club, filled to the brim with half-dressed people dancing to the DJ standing at the front. My heart pounds at the sound of their name and the danger they bring with them. "Jenni, concentrate," I grunt, trying to stay on top of her as she moves again.
Lord help me. I'm going to have gray hair by the time this night is over. My drunk friend is going to get herself into so much trouble. Between her ass playing peek-a-boo and the amount of drinks she's had, I'm going to play babysitter soon. Or have a puker on my hands.
I should not have let her have that fourth shot of tequila. Not to mention the weird mixed drink she ordered and promptly chugged, begging for another. And another. This girl clearly had a mission when she came to the club—get drunk as fast as possible and forget about her boyfriend not being here.
“Hidey hole. Hidey holeeee!!” she screeches, throwing her hands all around in the air.
"No more drinks for you," I grumble, shifting her as she sways with the music and leaning against me.
"They're up there. Shepp is watching you," she whispers right in my ear. And somehow, she is conscious enough to turn us around until I'm facing a certain part of the club. "Look up, Bestie."
The moment my eyes connect with Shepp's through a large window hovering above the club, shivers roll down my spine. He watches me like he owns me and wants to possess every inch of my flesh. Hell, maybe I'd let him. Let freedom ring with a big dick and...
"I'm going to be sick," Jenni hisses, covering her mouth.
Fuck.
Jenni takes off in a frantic run with me not too far behind her, pushing through the gyrating crowd.
"Puker on the run!" I shout, waving a hand and pointing to the tall redhead, maneuvering through the sea of people like she's done this before.
Shit. She probably has. I try as hard as I can to stay on Jenni's almost exposed ass, but my stupid heels get caught in what feels like a sticky substance, and I tumble to my knees and slam into the gross floor of the club. Thankfully, I'm out of the main pocket of people dancing, so I don't get trampled.
"That had better be gum," I whine to myself, dusting off my hands.
In the distance, the bathroom door swings open and slams shut, letting me know my girl made it. Several girls fall out of the bathroom, looking equally as drunk as Jenni. One lady even pushes through the crowd with her arms around her friend’s shoulder, completely supporting her weight. Now, I need to check and see if she called Ralph on the big white phone or if we need to call security and clean up her mess. Just as I'm about to get up on my own, a warm hand wraps around my bicep. I squeak, ready to tell the perv off, but I don't have a chance.
"What the fuck are you doing in my club?" Jericho hisses, dragging me to my feet.
I grunt, stumble over the stupid heels, and cringe when I don't see gum on the floor. Fuck. Replace the G in gum with a C, and I think I have that on the bottom of my borrowed heels.
"And in that!" Jericho shouts again, shaking me slightly until I pay attention to his face.
