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“You really are a cunt sometimes,” I tell her as we wait on the bartender, who’s just acknowledged us.
“No, being a cunt would be letting him think even for a second he had a c
hance. I prefer to stop it before it gets that far. Makes it less messy.”
Her logic is true, even if it still makes her a cunt.
I take a seat on one of the stools as we wait. My hands fidget in my lap, and I wince when a sharp pain enters my side. I blow out a slow breath and breathe through the pain, trying to push it back.
So far, I haven’t had any luck finding a guy. We’ve only been here an hour, but it feels more like three. I’ve come across quite a few guys I’ve had before, but I prefer not to use them again. When you sleep with a guy more than once, you take the chance of either him or you forming an attachment—no matter how much you don’t want to—and that’s one thing I refuse to do. However, it’s looking like I may have to tonight. I could ask Nathan to help me out, but his eyes have been on Lisa and Tegan, and I don’t want to pull him away from something he obviously wants. I’ll just have to make sure it’s someone I haven’t slept with in a long time.
When the bartender brings our drinks, I snatch mine up and take a big swallow. I like my drinks strong, so it burns when it hits my throat. I welcome the burn, hoping it’ll distract me from the pain that’s steadily getting worse in my stomach. But it’s a wasted effort, because it never works. Nothing does, except sex.
I put the glass down on the bar when my hand starts to shake so badly, the ice clinks against the side of the glass.
“Holy hell,” Ava says from beside me. “Now that man right there, I’d definitely let fuck me five ways to Sunday. And to Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday.”
Intrigued, because it’s not often Ava shows that much interest in a man, I turn in my seat to face the dance floor. It takes me a minute to zero in on who she’s referring to, but once I do, I know for a fact that it’s the one I’m looking at.
He’s got to be at least six foot five, as he towers over everyone around him. Even through his dress shirt and black suit jacket, I can tell he’s well-built, with muscles stacked on top of each other. His dark brown hair is just long enough to run your fingers through, and you can tell he shaves every day, but is now sporting what I would call a nine o’clock in the evening shadow.
My body starts to tingle with awareness, wanting to gravitate to the stranger and have him take me. My panties become wet and an ache forms between my legs. I shift in my seat, knowing this is the man I want.
I look down at the redhead that’s standing in front of him with a scowl on her face, and feel an irrational need to claw her eyes out and demand he’s already taken. He’s looking down at her, his jaw hard with his temple throbbing. He has his hands in his pockets, looking relaxed, but from the rigid way his body is standing, you can tell he’s anything but.
She says something to him and turns to walk away, but he grabs her by the arm, keeping her in place. I watch as she says something else to him, gesturing with her other hand around her. He looks around briefly, with an unconcealed nasty sneer overtaking his face, before looking back at her. I know that look well, and it pisses me off. His look says he’s disgusted with what’s going on here.
I turn in my seat, having seen enough. That look alone has my stomach souring. I hate people like him, the ones that think they are better than others. The ones that think just because it may be something they aren’t into, then it’s wrong and disgusting. The judgmental assholes of the world. The ones that would look at me with revulsion and label me as a freak.
“He looks like an asshole to me,” I tell Ava, finishing off my drink and ordering another.
“But a fucking delicious looking asshole,” she says, still facing the dance floor. “I bet I could tame that asshole right out of him.”
I have no doubt she could, but I have no desire to know about it.
Sighing wistfully, Ava grabs her drink and tells me she’s going back to our table. I glance over and am glad when I don’t see Tegan and Lisa. That means I don’t need to run interference for a bit.
I sit and fiddle with the edge of the napkin my drink is sitting on, suddenly in a very pissy mood. It does nothing to help the mounting pain in my stomach, nor the headache I feel coming on. I should be up, looking for a partner, but I’m so fucking tired. So tired of the same old shit every night.
Luckily, a few minutes later, a random guy that doesn’t smell, and clearly knows how to keep his drink in his glass, slides up next to me, grabbing my attention, and making my night a little bit easier. He seems to be nice enough, and doesn’t come off as desperate, something I can’t stand.
I lean over and rest my hand on his upper thigh, my fingers briefly grazing his cock. His eyes drop to my hand, then up to me. They instantly fill with lust, which ignites my body and the cramps intensify. I get up from my stool and grab his hand, ready to drag him from the club and have him satisfy my insatiable need.
A prickle of awareness rushes down my spine and I glance over, just as the bastard that was talking to the redhead looks my way as he heads toward the door. My breath catches as his eyes run up my bare legs to the short skirt I’m wearing. They continue to roam over the small glimpse of stomach I have exposed, to my breasts, and up to my face. The blatant desire I see there has my nipples tightening and my pussy clenching. I nearly stumble until his eyes move to the guy standing beside me, running his hand over my hip as he nibbles on my neck. The sneer is back on his face when he brings his eyes back to me, effectively washing away the desire I felt for him only seconds ago. It’s better than throwing a bucket of ice cold water on me.
I bare my teeth and flip him off. Strengthening my grip on the guy’s hand, I pull him behind me as I lead us to our table to tell the other’s good-bye. I want this night over and done with.
Chapter Two
Colt
I march past the beefy looking security guard and give him a glare for good measure. I barely hold back the need to give him the finger, but figure it would be slightly immature. Ever since the first day, when I came here and he tried keeping me from coming inside, we haven’t seen eye to eye. Luckily, Lukas showed up just in time, before I smashed the fucker’s teeth to the back of his head. Of course, my anger then turned to Lukas himself.
I grit my teeth and ball my hands into fists when I think about Lukas as I make my way through the throng of oversexed people littering the floor. I’d love nothing more than to obliterate the bastard, but my sister would disown me, right before she slaughtered me. I have no clue what she sees in him. He’s an arrogant ass that has an ego a mile wide, but for some reason, she worships the ground he walks on. She’s nineteen to his thirty-five, and it bites my ass and makes me gag every damn time I see him near her. My sister, Tera, is a bitch of the highest order. She’s not afraid to show her temper, which is just as hot as her fiery red hair, but she’s still my innocent little sister, no matter how much she claims she’s not. She’s vulnerable at this age, and Lukas fucking Black takes advantage of her naïve mind.
This is the second night this week I’ve been here, trying to talk my sister into coming home. I’m hoping tonight will be more successful.
I don’t bother knocking on the door, and I ignore the huge muscled man standing beside it. He knows better than to fuck with me. Unlike dickhead at the front door, this one has met my fist before. It still doesn’t stop him from sneering at me, though.
