“Drop the dumb act. If you panted any more, I was getting ready to chow down on your taco just to give you a damn orgasm.”
“Ugh, Syd! Really? Chow down on my taco.” When the words leave my lips, we both break out laughing hysterically. She’s my best friend, and like a lot of girls do in college, we kissed one time to see what all the hype was about, but that was all we ever did. We knew then that we both were strictly cocksisters for life. I love the term cocksister. It came from Badcock Tour, a piss-your-pants-from-laughing-so-hard book by one of our favorite authors, Christine Besze.
“Let’s just go to the pub. We can Uber there, get white-girl wasted, and dance until we drop.”
“Sounds good.” I head to my bedroom to get ready for our night out. I don’t know if the outfit I choose to wear is because I love it or because I know Kade will love it. Deep down, I t want to sexually frustrate him like he sexually frustrates me in my dreams.
Regardless of my motive, I’m rocking a red romper that ties in the back and has a deep V that dips in the front, drawing attention to my cleavage. Since we’ll most likely be dancing a lot, I decided to wear my black Jimmy Choo wedges. Wedges feel sturdier when I dance. I can be clumsy at times, so stilettos are not an option unless I want to end up on my ass and then in the emergency room.
“Hot damn!” Sydnee comments when I walk out of my room. “Maybe I will eat your taco.”
“You’re such a perv,” I respond. “You look pretty tasty, if I may say so.”
“Well, duh. This”—Sydnee uses her index finger to point out the entire outfit—“is your white lace bodysuit and black leather skirt.” Of course, she’s wearing my clothes. She always does. Whenever we go shopping, I swear Sydnee tells me I look good in everything she wants to borrow.
“Are those my peep-toe booties, too?”
“Go big or go home, right?” She winks.
“Come on. Our ride is here.”
It’s not long before we arrive at McShane’s. The parking lot is full, which makes me glad we got dropped off. Drunk assholes and car doors don’t mix well. I don’t know how many times I had to have the auto body shop pound out dents on my previous vehicle from people being reckless when getting into their cars, swinging their doors open, and hitting my undeserving vehicle.
Once inside, Sydnee and I snag the last high-top table close to the make-shift dance floor. To create a space for dancing and room for the DJ, all they did was rearrange the seating area, making it more crowded.
“The usual?” Finn asks when he makes it to our table.
“Make them doubles,” Sydnee shouts so he can hear her over the music.
“Coming right up.”
The shots go down easy, and when the DJ switches it up from hip hop to house music, and Avicii and Nicky Romero’s “I Could Be the One” fills the room, I can’t sit still any longer, so I grab Syd’s hand, dragging her to the dance floor. Closing my eyes, I let the music move my body, slightly swaying during the downbeat and practically jumping when the upbeat drops. That’s when I feel his hands grip my hips, pulling me into his steel frame.
I keep my eyes closed, dancing in the moment because the second I open them, the moment will fade, and I know Kade will walk away, or my brother will interfere as always.
“This is a dangerous outfit, Brit.” His warm breath tickles my neck when he whispers by my ear. Goosebumps speckle down my arms as tingles trickle down my spine. Turning around to face Kade, I keep my eyes shut and let everyone around us fade away. Our bodies move to the beat as if they were one. Sliding my hands up his arms, I lock my fingers in place. That’s when I finally decide to open my eyes and take in all that is Kade Beaumont.
The heat behind his gaze tells me he wants me, and without thinking, I lean in and place a featherlight kiss to his neatly manicured jawline. Kade’s hands grip my hips tighter, but before anything else can happen, he pushes me away.
“Fuck,” Kade growls before he turns and stalks away angry, leaving me alone on the dance floor.
Frustrated, I push my way through the people dancing around me and stagger back to my table to find Sydnee sitting there with shock written all over her face and shots waiting.
“Girl, you’re fucked,” my friend says, pointing out the obvious. I swallow back my shot of Jameson, then the second followed by the pickleback.
“You think?”
“I was damn near ready to cream my panties just watching you two.”
“Come on, Syd. Ew.”
“Ladies,” some random preppy-looking guy greets us when he bumps into our table. “Can I get you another round?” The way he asks the question rubs me the wrong way. A flashback of waking up in the hospital after being raped in college has my right hand clenching into a fist. Without thinking, I swing, landing the punch in the dead center of his face, knocking him back a few steps.
“You fucking cunt! You broke my fucking nose!” he yells out as blood drips from his nose. Those close to us erupt in cheers. My brother comes out of nowhere, grabs the guy by the back of the shirt, and escorts him out. I’m pretty sure once they are outside, Deacon flashes his badge because the preppy asshole doesn’t return. That or he had to go to the hospital. Looking down at my hand, I see it’s beginning to swell. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face because the puffiness is confirmation I put the hurt on him.
“Are you okay?” Deacon asks when he returns. I shrug my shoulders, giving him a non-committal answer as I shake out my hand. My brother grabs my wrist to avoid causing me more pain to my injured hand. “Make a fist.” I do as he says. “Okay. Just makin’ sure it’s not broken.”
“Here you go, Rocky.” Finn hands me ice wrapped is a bar towel. “Remind me never to piss you off, doll.” He flashes a smile before strutting back toward the bar.
“I’ll be right back. Get me another shot, D.” Deacon gives me a thumbs up, indicating he heard my request. I roll my eyes and shake my head at his cheesy acknowledgment. As I shuffle past people on my way to the restroom, people shout, “Tyson!” “Rocky!” “Holyfield!” “Layla Ali!”
I reach the women’s restroom when the door across from it opens. Destiny steps out, pulling her hair back into a messy bun, and when her eyes meet mine, a Cheshire cat grin spreads across her face. Tilting my head to see past her, it’s the sight of Kade that makes my stomach twist into a knot. There’s no mistaking what my eyes see this time. He’s zipping up his jeans when he finally looks up and notices me standing there, and all the color from his face drains like he just saw a ghost.
Turning around, I hurry back to the table. Thankfully, I had not one or two shots waiting for me, but three. God bless my brother.
“I figured you could use the extra shot for the pain,” he explains with a bump to the elbow.
“You figured correctly, big brother.” Without any hesitation, I shoot back all three shots in record time. Instead of the pickleback, I down the glass of water that was sitting in front of me as well. Grabbing the damp ice-filled towel, I place it on my hand, hoping it will take away some of the swelling.
Sydnee sits quietly, evaluating my current mood. She knows not to ask what’s wrong because her best friend senses are telling her something is up with Kade.