I’m still struggling with the damn zip when I feel a hand on the small of my back. Looking over my shoulder, Nash is standing there, his thumb running along his bottom lip as he takes in the black lacy playsuit. It’s one of my best finds and I’m in love with it, the neckline drops teasingly at cleavage but it being backless is the star of the show. I want to snark at him for eye fucking me, but I can’t deny I’m not doing the exact same thing.
He looks devastating. His grey henley is stretched over the width of his chest and arms, but hangs a little loose around his waist, suggestive at the fact his muscle cuts in. His ripped jeans are tight around his thighs and ass, but not so tight that I know exactly what he’s packing. I kind of wish I did. His hair is mused up somewhere between I styled it to just had sex, and I flick my tongue out of the corner of my mouth to check I’m not drooling.
He leans in close to my ear, breathing his next words while pulling up the zip I was struggling with.
“You look like a wet dream.” I flush so red that I’m worried that I’m practically glowing, and when he pulls back a bit, his heavy breaths fan over the deep red of my lipstick. He pulls away, grabbing one of the drinks Peyton’s pushing at us and I grab one of my own, as she animatedly squeals about the game plan for the night.
I start shaking my head at her, downing whatever she’s put together, it’s delicious by the way, and face her. “Uh uh, you’ve got me for a few hours.” She’s not having it. Standing on the coffee table, adding a good foot to her height, she towers over everyone the room.
“No! Tonight, we party, or I riot!”
Chapter Fifteen
The bar just outside of campus is nothing like I thought it was going to be. I don’t know why I was expecting a prissy sit-down cocktail bar adorned in white and pink that requires a six-week reservation, because that’s not what I got. The bar is rustic looking, the floors a polished concrete and peeled back plaster to show red brick work on the walls. The eclectic wall pieces make no sense with each other, fairy lights hang above the bar and a neon sign points out the bathrooms. It’s crowded, smelling of cheap drinks, cigarettes, weed, and sweat. Nothing about this place screams that it’s the most popular hang out for the rich dicks that attend the university. It looks exactly like the bars back in Darling Valley. I love it.
The boys move in front, pushing up through the crowd to the bar ordering a round of drinks along with shots of tequila. Clearly no one cares that we are underage because they don’t ask for idea and in no time a blue cocktail and tiny shot glass are pushed in front of me. Tequila is never a good idea, but the walk here had me starting to lose my buzz so I’m not picky. We shot them down, and then sip at our drinks. Towards the back there’s a stage with a band set up, playing some pop covers. They’re good. Peyton and Nash are whispering back and forth, shooting looks towards the stage with big smiles on their face. Milo is also watching the stage, checking his watch occasionally.
“Give it up one last time for band!” An announcer has taken center stage, looking around and raising her hands up to encourage the crowd to raise the noise. “Now who we’ve all been waiting for, let’s welcome back Bauk War!”
The noise is deafening. Whoever Bauk War are, are clearly popular amongst the students and I’m sitting up a little straighter, eager to hear them play. I scan the crowd quickly, looking for Jack or Leo, thinking they must have already been here because it’s rare that I don’t see the boys together. I don’t see them, but I don’t ask Peyton about them either.
The band comes out as I’m downing the last of my drink and when I look up I’m looking into a familiar pair of stony grey eyes. I gasp a little, I knew that Leo played guitar, and I heard him sing the time I broke into the dean’s office, but how did it never come up that he was in a band? Right now, he looks every bit of a rockstar. He’s wearing a white shirt with an image of a beast on it. I recognize it as somewhat similar to the tattoo on his chest, but I can’t make out all the finer details as it’s mostly covered by a black leather jacket, matching perfectly against his black jeans and combat boots. I kind of want to lick him, see if he tastes as sinful as he looks.
He's grinning as he takes place in front of the microphone, a guitar strapped over his shoulder. His eyes scan over the crowd and when they land on our little group, his grin grows even wider. Even from here I feel his eyes trail down the length of me, and his tongue swipes over the point of his canine teeth and then he throws me a wink. I can’t stop the way my heart flutters in response and as he addresses the crowd, he’s seems so different than he usually does. Over the months, Leo has come off as a quietly confident man, but on stage he so magnetic that I’m not surprised when I see women from all directions snapping pics and flashing their tits.
The song starts and I instantly recognize it as ‘Beautiful Nightmare’ by Escape the Fate. It’s one of my favorite songs. The hoots from the crowd are wild, but when Leo starts to sing, it turns into a full-blown roar. Jesus Christ. I’m mesmerized by him, the way his hand moves over the guitar, the way his eyes close when he pours his soul into his music. His voice is dripping with sex, the way he growls into the microphone has my panties flooding.
The crowd starts dancing, shamelessly grinding as the band continues to play, others moving into darker corners. I see one girl drop to her knees only feet away from the restrooms, and I kind of get it. Leo’s eyes open at the chores, finding mine right away as he sings, his voice caressing over me. I can’t look away, and neither does he. It’s not until the song comes to an end that the spell between us breaks and I finally feel like I can breathe once again.
The crowd is screaming and jumping up and down, fists pump in the air and Nash does a loud finger whistle. A blur of blonde hair runs across the stage and jumps up, wrapping her legs around Leo’s waist, flashing her damn thong to the entire bar, and kisses him hard on the mouth. They stay that way for a moment before he puts her back on her feet and I immediately see that it's Blakely. I can’t help the way my heart drops at the sight of her, my skin feels all prickly and I can’t keep the distaste off my face. I’m jealous, and I hate that I’m jealous.
I don’t need to see this public declaration that they’re clearly back on, down another two drinks in quick succession and turn to Peyton who’s leaning so close into Milo that her shoulders are practically pressed into his chest. He looks at her with soft eyes and I almost feel bad for pulling her away from him to dance with me. I haven’t met them, but I instantly hate his fucking parents from doing this to them.
“Come dance!” I wonder whether she’s going to fight me on it but she just squeals out like she’s been waiting hours for me to get on her level and drags me into the middle of the crowd. We dance together for a few songs, twirling and sweating from the collective body heat of the crowd. Men continue to come up to ask, pushing their bodies against ours, but we ignore them until they get the idea on move on to more willing participants.
I see him making his way towards us before Peyton does, and if the pinkness in his cheeks isn’t telling in itself, then the slight stumble in his step would make it very clear that Milo needed some liquid courage before he could make his way to her. He walks up behind her, pressing a soft kiss to her temple and puts his hands on her hips, moving with her in time with the beat.
I take a few steps away from them, trying to give them a semblance of privacy and continue to dance on my own. I’m brimming with energy and my buzz has me feeling lighter than air. I sway and turn and gyrate, loving every minute of it and the longer I keep my eyes closed, the easier it is to pretend that I’m in my room listening to the soft croons of a man who could bring a woman to orgasm just with his voice.
Another body presses against me, but instead of the irritation I feel with most people, my body practically purrs in response. His hand splays against my lower stomach, the pinky just touching the line of my panties as I’m pulled in flush against his chest, not an inch of space between us. My eyes flutter open and I smile when I see Nash behind me. The alcohol haze does nothing for my self-preservation because I wrap a hand around the back of his neck, the other resting atop his hand and rock against him.
I try to ignore the way my body moves easily against his, or how quickly we found a rhythm that makes our dancing seem almost like foreplay. His other hand moves down the hem at the pant leg on my playsuit and lightly traces against the material. He’s barely touching me, and definitely not touching me in the places that are starting to tingle, but his innocent caresses are the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced.
I’m panting hard, when his lips move over the dip in my shoulder, pressing gently against the skin. I can’t stop the moan that escapes me or the goosebumps that pebble when his nose runs against the shell of my ear. I push harder back against him, and a low groan sounds directly in my ear. He's hard. I can feel him pressed firmly against my back, and as much as I shouldn’t want to, I need to know how he’d feel against me.
He must sense my internal battle because his lips press a kiss under my ear before he’s murmuring in a voice dripping with need and desire. “Don’t think, just keep dancing with me. Keep pressing that tight ass back on me. Or better yet…”
He doesn’t finish his sentence, just spins me around until we’re face to face, my breasts squished against his chest, well more like the top of his abdomen. He’s fucking tall. I keep my hand around his neck and loop the fingers of my other in his belt loops, pulling him flush against me. His cock is pressed against my pussy and it might be the alcohol, but this is exactly what I need. He puts one hand indecently low on my back but not quite groping my ass and uses the other to hoist my leg up, essentially opening me up for him.
He wastes no time before he’s rocking back into my core, peppering kisses, and sucking at my neck like he’s a man starved. I move against him, no longer teething the line of dirty dancing, but now shamelessly dry humping in the middle of the dance floor. I’m so fucking wet that I’m sure that he can feel it against his jeans and I’m desperate for him to touch me. I moan as he nips again at my neck and my hands start to crawl up his shirt, feeling the toned muscle underneath.
I feel his muscles contract under my fingertips and when I push a little harder, he grunts, like the dam of his control breaks. I don’t realise we’re moving until my back hits the cold bricks and he pulls his head off my bruised neck and hovers inches away from my face. I tilt my head up, meeting his lips and pushes against me hard. He doesn’t hesitate sucking on my bottom lip, and when I pull at his with my teeth, he groans so low and dirty that I contemplate saying fuck it and fuck him right here.
It’s been too long since I got off, and the sure movements of how he thrusts against me clue me in on his skills in the bedroom, and just howbighe is too. He pushes my knee out a little more, spreading me wider and keeps kissing me like he’ll never get enough of the taste of my tongue.
“If you don’t come soon, I’m going to embarrass myself.” I giggle at him, but it quickly dissolves into whimpers when he takes my earlobe into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it. I dip my hand into the top of his jeans, not touching him but desperate to do so. I start to tremble, whimpering like a whore as he continues his ministrations against me, he moves his hips in a tight circle, pushing against my clit just a little harder and I shatter.
I come so hard that my head throws back against the brick. Nash must have anticipated the move because his hand is already there, shielding it from what would have likely been a concussion. My eyes are locked on his as he slows his movements, drawing out these tiny aftershocks that rack through my body. He’s panting just as hard as I am, and it’s only when he moves a fraction back from me that I realise my come is literally dripping down my leg and all over the front of his jeans.