He has dismissed almost every single one.Too frumpy. Too flowery. Too frilly. Too old. Too pink.
“Argh. I have nothing,” I groan as I take off the green halter that even I hate. I have no idea why I allow it to take up space in my tiny closet.
“Yes you do. That hot little black number you tried on a half hour ago.” He flashes his eyebrows at me before taking a sip of his Cosmopolitan.
I shake my head. “It’s too revealing.” I shake my head.
“Lucia Montoya!” He stands and places his drink on my nightstand before picking up the tiny black dress and handing it to me. “You have a rocking body. You are twenty-one years old. We’re going to the hottest freaking night club in California. Show a little skin, baby.”
I take it from his hands. The fabric is so thin it’s almost sheer. I haven’t worn this dress in over a year. Not since the night I got drunk on tequila and Jax had to come rescue me from a dive bar.
I hold it up against my body. “I’ll have to wear a G-string,” I sigh. “They’re so freaking uncomfortable.”
“Oh for the love of God!” he snaps.
“You walk around with a wedgie all night then. See how you like it,” I challenge him.
“Girl, if it would get me the dick that dress is going to get you, I would. Now put the fucking dress on.”
“Okay.” I relent and go to my underwear drawer to find a G-string.
“If you are ever going to get over Jackson Decker, then you need to get under someone else. And fast,” he reminds me.
“I know,” I sigh. He is the only person who knows about my Jax obsession and the poor guy has had to listen to me talk about him for the past hour and a half.
He wraps his arms around me. “He is a damn fool not to want you, baby girl.”
I lean back against his hard chest. “Thank you, sweetie.”
Then he slaps my ass. “You’re welcome. Now get dressed so I can go act all rich and important in your daddy’s club.”
Putting my empty glass onto the bar and with a wave to Archer, who winks at me to signal he is more than happy to remain chatting to the muscular blond at the bar, I follow the guy I’ve been chatting to for the past five minutes to the dance-floor. His name is Chase. He works in security and he has sandy brown hair, blue eyes and tattoos all over his forearms. He might be just my type.
We worm our way through the crowd until we find ourselves a space. It’s so packed in here, we are already pressed up against each other before we even start dancing. But that is fine with me. Archer is right. I need to get me some action and forget all about Jax. And Chase is hot, right? I mean he’s not Jax-hot, but he’s got that tall and mysterious thing going on. I bet he has some hard abs under that shirt of his, too.
I lick my lips as I look up at him and he is staring back at me with pure undisguised lust in his eyes.
I can do this. Right?
He slides his warm hands around my waist and pulls me closer to him. The heat from his body seeps through the flimsy fabric of my dress and I lean into him and wrap my arms around his neck. This feels nice. I have forgotten the pleasure of two bodies molded together. The closeness. The heat. We are ultimately primal creatures after all, craving connection, no matter how fleeting. Our hips sway in time to the music and when he rocks his groin against mine, I feel his erection through his jeans.
He dips his head low and his breath dances over my neck, sending a shiver skittering up my spine. I lean my head back to give him easier access when I feel my cell vibrate in my purse which is sandwiched between us.
I contemplate not answering it, but it could be my mom about Matthias.
Taking it out of my purse, I glance at the screen. It’s a text from Jax.
Big Bad JD:Lose the asshole.
I roll my eyes and open my purse to put it back inside and the cell vibrates in my hand.
Big Bad JD:Now!
I glance around the club. Damn Jackson Decker. He must be in here somewhere. Of course he is. It’s Friday night and he’s looking for some action too, but who the hell does he think he is, telling me who I can dance with?
I put the cell back in my purse and Chase smiles at me. “Everything okay?” he mouths.
“Yeah,” I smile as I edge closer to him again. He places his hands on my hips as we move to the music and I’m not entirely unhappy when they slide to my ass. I think Chase and I are going to get along just fine.