“Aren’t you going to order yourself a drink?” I ask. I really don’t wanna get wasted while he’s sober. I’m actually surprised he’s not showing any signs of being tipsy with those shots he downed.
“Nah. I think I’ve had one too many shots of whiskey.”
“I saw.” I smile playfully. “How about something a little lighter, then? Like my cosmo?” It’s not in my nature to share a drink, but the thought of this man taking a sip from this girly glass makes me smile. Shit, maybe I’m already a little tipsier than I thought.
“Nah. Not my style. Besides, cosmos are pussy drinks.”
I know I should be turned off by his crude words and the diss on my drink, but the way he says it summons up the image of him down in between my legs and his powerful jaws clamped down on me.
Jesus, I haven’t even known him more than five minutes and I’m already thinking dirty thoughts. Get a hold of yourself, Maddy!
“Hey, they're not that bad,” I protest, hoping he's not clued in to the dirty image flashing through my mind. My nipples are hard, and my breathing is coming up short though. I clear my throat and take a quick drink. I need to get a grip.
“I’ll stick with whiskey, or vodka,” he replies as he shakes his head.
“You’re missing out,” I say as I take another sip of my drink.
“Doubt it. I’m particular with my intake of sweets.” The way he looks at me drives home his pun.
I nearly spit out my drink into his lap. Holy crap. Did the bastard know I was just thinking about him between my legs? I try hard not to let on that I’m picking up what he’s throwing down, but judging by the smirk on his face, he knows exactly what I’m thinking. Cocky bastard.
“So what brings you two to this shithole town?” Zane asks, looking as if he's trying not to laugh at my reaction. “Wait, let me guess. You’re both going to the state university?”
I gulp, trying to keep my mind clear of that image of him eating me out. “Yeah.”
He grins. “I knew it.”
“What about you? Do you go to college there, too?”
A dark shadow passes over Zane’s face and I feel like I’ve hit a nerve. “No,” he says flatly after a second. That heat flowing through my body chills some. He obviously didn’t like that question. Shit, I’m not buzzed enough not to realize his displeasure. It was just an innocent question though. I retreat to my drink.
The beats of the music fills the silence that ensues, and I wonder if Zane's decided I’m not worth his trouble. I figure the conversations he has with the women in places like these usually revolve around how soon can he take them home to his bed, not getting to know you type stuff.
“So, what do you do?” I dare ask when the silence between us stretches on for more than thirty seconds.
Zane seems to perk up at the question. “I’m a tattoo artist,” he says proudly.
“Really?” Tattoos really aren’t my thing, but I have respect for people with artistic talent. “That’s pretty cool. I’ve never known a real artist before.” I turn in my seat to face him. I really like that he has a job that’s… different.
“Yeah. I own my own shop, Inked Envy on Second Street.” He points at the serpent tattoo on his arm. “I gave myself this one.”
I gawk. The whole thing is so beautiful. “You did this yourself?”
He nods. That’s impressive. I know next to nothing about tattoos, but I know that had to be hard.
“How?” I can’t even imagine how long that took. I look at his right arm and see there’s no tattoos on that arm.
“I’m good at what I do,” he says matter-of-factly, without a trace of bragging in his voice.
“Wow.” Unconsciously, I reach out to touch his arm, feeling along the length of the tattoo. His muscles bulge underneath my touch, and once again, sparks seem to pop off his skin.
“Your hands feel so soft,” Zane says, grabbing hold of my wrist and pulling me in close. He runs his finger up along my arm, shooting off more sparks. “I could fix you up, free of charge. Would you like that?” It takes a moment for me to realize he’s asking about a tattoo.
I have an immediate urge to say yes, but I don’t, and I stare at him, trembling in his grasp. In that moment, I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life.
I feel like he has absolute power over me. His question could have been, “Will you come home and have sex with me?” and I would have said yes.
That’s it. I have to get away.
“Sorry, gotta go!” Not giving him a chance to respond, I jerk out of his grasp and quickly disappear into the crowd of people grinding on the dance floor. I look around for Katie, but don’t see her beneath all the flashing lights. Moving as fast as I can, I make my way into the club’s hallway and stop to rest against the wall.
I breathe in and out, trying to get a hold of myself, my legs shaking. All I can think about is how close I came to losing control, and Zane had only asked if I wanted him to give me a tattoo!
“Where do you think you’re going, sweet thing?” asks a deep voice that makes my knees weak.
Oh no.
I try to make a run for it, but suddenly I’m sandwiched between the wall and a rock-hard body.
Fuck.
“Did I say you could leave?” Zane growls in my face. His voice is soft and sexy, not meant to be a threat, only a dare to stay. The smell of whiskey is even stronger on his breath at this distance. Instead of disgusting me, it only makes me more turned on. His hot breath makes my nipples pebble. My core is soaked and my pussy is clenching around nothing. This isn’t good. I fucking want him. Every inch of my body craves him.
“Y-y-you’re not my daddy,” I stammer, ignoring every instinct in me.
“No. I’m not.” Zane gives me a cocky grin, moving in closer. “But I can be... if you want.”
I’m almost on fire. My dress seems to be rising up my thighs, practically inviting Zane in. “What are you talking about?” I have to close my eyes and will the naughty images away.
“I think you know,” he whispers in my ear.
I do know. And it would be so easy to give in, so easy to just melt in his arms. And he wants me. He chased me. That has to mean something.
“You know you want it.” He says it as if his words are a dare.
He's right. I do want it. So fucking badly. My body is burning. Every inch of me wants him inside of me, even right here in this hallway. I don’t care who sees.
Zane inches in closer as if coming in for a kiss. If his lips touch mine, I know it’s all over.
I can’t do this!
“Get the fuck off me!” I yell out as the thought of him sliding my dress up and fucking me against the wall becomes a very real possibility.
At the last possible second, I summon every ounce of self-control I can muster and shove Zane away from me. Then I take off like a jackrabbit down the hall, and out the club, not daring to look back.
Chapter 4
Zane
I watch Maddy’s back as she practically runs from me. Her hands grip the hem of her dress as she pulls it farther down her thighs. She’s speeding off like I just told her I was a hitman and she’s first on my list.