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Remy turned towards the bar, glancing at the handsome man she’d grown up with. Their eyes met for a brief moment as an electric current wound around her. She quickly focused her attention on the empty stool on the opposite end of the bar to Mikel. On wobbly legs, she managed to make it to the seat.
“What can I get ya, hon?” the bartender asked. She wiped a cloth over the bar, the white tattoos weaving around her arm like delicate lacework as she moved. She tucked one of the loose raven-black tendrils of hair behind her ear as she looked expectantly towards Remy.
“Just a Pepsi, please.”
As the pretty woman filled her glass, an invisible blaze burned in Remy’s body. She tilted her head in search of a heating vent. Nothing. As her eyes swept the room, she met Mikel’s dark pools again and she was sucked in. Lost were the sounds of the mic checks and the bartender leaving her soda in front of her. Everything was a buzz in the background as she studied his handsome tanned face as he walked up to her. Rough stubble peppered his strong jaw. Mikel Evans stood in front of her—six feet of broody man towering over her. He moved one of his muscular arms onto the bar, half caging her in. Heat and yearning like she had never known overtook her body. She clenched her thighs together, embarrassed by her sudden lust. One look and this man had the power to rule her … or destroy her.
“Does your brother know you’re here?” he asked in his sexy gravelly voice.
She hoped to god he couldn’t hear the thundering beat in her chest. She inhaled a deep breath and channeled her best Emma. “Andre isn’t my keeper.”
His eyes flashed and the corner of his mouth turned up. She’d surprised him. She was usually the quiet shy kid who tagged along with him and their brothers, Andre and Bently. “So, if I called him right now and told him where you were …”
“I’m a grown woman, Mikel. I haven’t broken any laws to get in here. I came to support my friend and watch her sing her heart out. I’m not a little girl who needs you to keep an eye on her.” She wasn’t sure where her courage was coming from.
“You certainly have grown up. When did that happen?” he asked, his scorching gaze raking over her body. Was he finally noticing her as someone other than the little sister to his business partner?
Before she could give a response, he turned and walked back to his spot at the other end of the bar. Deflated, she focused on her drink and took a sip. The bubbles tickled her throat as she tried to regain control of herself. Disappointment weighed heavily on her.
“Three dollars, honey.”
Remy dug in her pocket for a five and handed it to her. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks.”
The lights dimmed. The drum kit crashed as Emma’s band began to play. Remy turned to watch the show, trying to ignore the firestorm blazing in her body. Her friend’s voice was sweet and light and full of emotion, melding with the rock music.
After several songs, the bar became packed. The dance floor was filled with bodies seductively writhing together. A flush of heat rose to Remy’s cheeks. This was her first time out by herself this late at night. The first time she had lied by omission to her parents who thought their daughter was sleeping over at Emma’s with no extracurricular activities.
“Care to dance?” A deep voice came from her side. The guy was cute. He had that boy-next-door vibe going for him.
She glanced over his shoulder. Mikel was talking to a woman in a red dress. Jealousy boiled her insides. She was only gonna live once, right? Maybe she needed to heed Emma’s advice and take some chances. Besides, this could be her opportunity to show Mikel just how grown up she was.
“Sure,” she agreed.
“I’m Brad.”
“Remy,” she answered his unspoken question.
He smirked and took her hand, leading her to the center of the crowd.
Feeling unsure, she found Emma’s eyes. Her friend shot her an encouraging wink.
Brad grabbed her hips and pulled her closer to him. She rested her palms on his shoulders, stiffly. He led her as they swayed, his body getting closer inch by inch. She glanced over his shoulder. Mikel stared at her again.
Brad turned her around so that her back was facing him as he ground himself against her butt. She wasn’t sure what to do. Should I move with him? Oh god! Is that his penis?
She was used to school dances with friends; Emma had been her date to the prom. Besides a few middle school boys who’d stood a foot from her, with their hands on her hips, this was the extent of her experience dancing with the male species.
His growing hardness against her backside was getting awkward fast. She tried to turn around, but his hands held her hips in place. She searched the room, nervous and anxious, no longer able to see Mikel or Emma in the wall of people surrounding them. This had definitely been a bad idea. She should just wait until the song ended and then make her escape. He had asked for a dance and she had said yes; it was too late to stop now. Wasn’t it? She didn’t want to make a scene.
His palms moved over her belly towards her breasts. She panicked—the word “Stop” stuck in her throat. She’d gotten in over her head. It was getting harder to breathe. “Stop,” finally spilled out of her mouth, swallowed by the loud music.
He released her suddenly and she turned around to apologize.
Brad was in a pile on the floor holding his face. As he lifted his palm, the blue lights illuminated smears of blood pouring from his nose, which appeared purple.
What happened?
