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“You do realize you’ve got every guy in here thinking about fucking you?”
I scoff and try to pull out of his grip, but he holds firm. “Don’t be ridiculous. No, I haven’t.”
He yanks me closer, so my breasts are only a sliver of air away from being crushed to his chest. He speaks against my ear, his breath hot, his voice a low growl.
“Bullshit. Your skirt is so short I can practically see your pussy, and it would only take one false move for your tits to be on show.”
I recover myself and lift my chin in defiance. “What the hell has how I dress got to do with you?”
“You think I want to be related to such a little whore?”
My jaw drops and my palm tingles with the urge for it to make contact with his face. How fucking dare he?
“Fuck you, Dom.”
“It’s Domenic to you.”
I narrow my eyes, and, like a child, chant, “Dom-Dom-Dom-Dom.”
To my relief, he lets go of my arm. “All right, Duchess, if that’s how you want to play it. Just watch your back.”
He storms off again, pushing through the crowds of people. The bar is far busier now than when we arrived. The music is louder, too, the lights lower. On the dance floor, bodies writhe and bounce. Girls and boys, girls and girls, and even boys and boys grind up against each other. If there were a few less items of clothing, it would practically be an orgy. Why the fuck is Dom judging me so harshly when everyone else is acting like this? I spot Verity and one of her friends practically making out, but I can see they’re only doing it to catch the eyes of the men. From what I can tell, it’s working beautifully. There’s a small crowd of testosterone-filled guys surrounding the pair. Domenic isn’t there, though, and I get the feeling he’s the only one she really cares about.
Shaking with rage, I drain the rest of my champagne.
A hand touches my arm, and I spin on my heel, my mouth flying open, ready to launch back into Domenic, but instead I find Camile standing there, her eyes wide.
“Mackenzie. Are you okay? I saw Dom giving you shit.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. He’s just an asshole.”
“He is such an asshole,” she agrees. “Do you want to go? I understand if you do.”
I shake my head. “There is no way I’m allowing him to push me around.”
The champagne glass I’d only just emptied is full again, by some kind of miracle, and I take another sip. The booze is giving me a lovely layer of padding against the cruelty of Dom’s words, and right now, I need it. This is my second glass, and it has to be my last. I can’t let myself drink too much, because if I do, I risk giving away my secret to the entire bar. That’s the last thing I want.
“Good for you,” she says approvingly. “Come on. Let’s dance.”
I allow her to lead me out onto the dance floor, and we merge into all the hot, writhing bodies. I spot Valentino, dancing with some others. He notices me, too, and throws me a wink. My heart swells with his approval. I’m guessing he didn’t see the confrontation between me and Dom, or he probably would have intervened like he did in the bathroom.
I switch my attention to Camile. I don’t want my new best friend to think I’m ignoring her for a guy.
“I love this song,” she cries and puts more energy into her dancing.
Feeling like I’m a part of something, I join in. The crowd bumps and jostles around us, but it’s all good natured. Everyone’s having a great time, and I understand why Camile had said there was no point in waiting for the weekend.
I let loose, and it feels amazing. I dance, my arms lifted high, shaking my hips and singing along to the music. I notice Kirill topping up my glass with yet more champagne, and Verity and her friends hanging around too, ordering their own bottle. I’m thirsty, so I head over to take a sip, but I manage to spill more of it than I drink.
“Whoops,” I giggle as the icy cold bubbles spill down my cleavage.
I’m definitely drunker than I’d planned to be. Wow, this stuff gets you blasted. I’ve only had two small glasses. There’s more of this one down my front than down my throat, but I feel so wobbly. It’s a nice wobbly, but there’s a niggle at the back of my mind that maybe I ought to leave. What if I react to the alcohol?
Valentino leans into me. “Keep that up, and you’ll have me thinking about what it would be like to sip champagne off your tits all night.”
I can’t help myself. I gaze up at him from beneath my lashes and my tongue flicks out across my lower lip. “Maybe that’s exactly what I’m hoping you’ll think.”
Oh, my God. What is wrong with me? It’s as if some confident, sexy woman has taken over my body.
