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It's a bad idea. I'm here alone, on enemy turf, without the backup of more experienced Angels. And this girl...Rook and Luka are right; she wants something from me.
But I don't give a shit because I'm a fucking idiot.
"Yeah," I say.
She passes me a shot glass full of clear liquid, and I shoot it fast. It burns as it goes down--and when I open my eyes and look at her again, the damn lime is between her fingers, inches from her mouth.
"Chaser?" she asks.
I nod.
She puts the lime between her teeth, leaning over the bar.
This feels like it's against the club's rules--I could literally get killed tonight--but I go in for the kiss anyway.
As our lips meet, the world around us fades away. The taste of tequila lingers on Aisling's tongue, intertwining with the sweetness of the lime. Our connection is charged with lust, fueled by the dangerous allure of Dreamland and the forbidden desires that consume us both.
Aisling pulls away, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, as she releases the lime from her teeth and places it on the edge of my lips. "Your turn," she whispers.
I take the hint and lean closer, capturing the lime between my teeth. Our lips brush against each other once more, tantalizing and fiery. The intensity of the moment sends a surge of desire coursing through my veins, overpowering any sense of caution that remains.
With a sly smile, Aisling drags her fingers along my jawline. "Come," she murmurs, her voice dripping with temptation. "Let's find somewhere more private."
My heart races as she leads me through the door to the private rooms. The air in the secluded hallway is heavy with anticipation, almost suffocating. Aisling's fingers graze against mine, sending electric shocks through my body.
She stops in front of a door at the end of the hallway, her eyes locked with mine. Her voice drops to a whisper, barely audible over the thumping bass from outside.
"Are you sure about this?" she asks, her voice laced with a dangerous allure.
I hesitate for a moment, my mind swirling with uncertainty. I remember Rook's warning and Luka's cautionary tale of those who crossed the boss. It's as if their voices echo in my head, urging me to turn away.
But the adrenaline rushing through my veins--and Aisling's scent--drowns out any rational thoughts.
"I uh...I don't have any money," I stammer. "I mean, I've got...I've got some, but not enough to afford this."
"This isn't about money, Gunnar," she whispers. "So, are you ready or what?"
I nod, my resolve firming.
"I'm ready," I say.
It doesn't occur to me to ask what she meant until she's opening the door and ushering me through into a small room lit entirely in red with a plush velvet couch at the back. She pulls me in and pushes me back onto the seat, where I land with a thud and gaze up at her.
Fuck me...I'm totally smitten.
I'm such an idiot, and my cock is still straining against my jeans, eager to get even a taste of her.
"How about a dance?" she whispers, the music still thudding from outside.
I can't say anything--my mouth just ain't moving--as she hooks her thumbs in her shorts and tugs them down her thighs, beginning to sway her hips. She's wearing a lacy blue thong underneath, her chunky, sparkly heels making it look like she has legs for days, and she turns and looks over her shoulder at me, biting her lip.
I don't know how I got so lucky.
I'm so fucking hard, my knot swollen like I'm gettingthatkind of action tonight.
Her body moves in fluid, perfect motion, then she comes closer and sits in my lap. To my surprise, she breaks yet another ruleand puts her hands on mine to splay my palms over her hips, and I groan as my fingertips press into her soft skin.
She spreads her legs and grinds against my engorged cock through our clothes.
