Destined To Fall (Reluctant lovers #1)

Chapter Nineteen

I ’ ve had a rare week off. This isn ’ t a good thing. It ’ s made me antsy, restless, and horny as fuck. I need…I need…I need to let off some steam. It ’ s been days and days since…a shudder runs through my body remembering the night I showed up at Jeremy ’ s apartment. He sent me a text message, I presume once he got out of the shower.

J: I can still feel you here. Smell your sweet, musky scent…

V: I was fair game, Jer.

I left the unspoken truth of just how much I ’ d wanted him to take me unsaid.

J: I can ’ t.

V: You mean you can ’ t, or you won ’ t?

And then nothing.

I haven ’ t heard from him since.

I fling myself off the couch and hunt for my cell. Dancing is the question, and Laura is the answer.

“ Hooker, what ’ s up? Wait, please tell me you ’ re not calling me on the job. Oh wait, that ’ s right. You ’ re a free agent.”

“ Firstly, no one. Secondly, seriously? Thirdly, we need to get drunk.”

“ I don ’ t know if I can afford your company.” That line never fails to make me laugh.

“ I ’ m off the clock, you dirty mole. Come on, I have this new club in mind.”

“ Okay, I ’ m keen. You handing out freebies tonight?”

I laugh for a good minute before I can respond. “ Never.” Why Jeremy pops into my head, I don ’ t know. Okay, that ’ s a lie, but he ’ s not an option. Free or otherwise. “ My place, eight?”

“ Done. ” She hangs up without another word.

I throw myself into the shower—sans clothes, clearly—and clean everything, mentally running through my wardrobe. I want something…I don ’ t know, something wow. It ’ s been a while since I ’ ve made an entrance, at least as myself and not some piece of ass attached to a rich asshole. I cringe; that was harsh. They aren ’ t all assholes.

Throwing my hair up in a towel, turban-style, I pad barefoot across my cold floor, leaving a wet trail to my walk-in, and flick through the hangers until I find just the thing. I pull off my fancy headpiece and quickly dry off before I slide into the skin-tight, backless V-cut dress. It clings to every, and I mean every, inch of my body. The white, stretchy, almost cotton-like fabric stops mid-thigh, with long sleeves and a square-cut neckline. It covers everything while hiding next to nothing. I might as well be naked. It ’ s perfect.

I ’ m putting the finishing touches on my dark, smoky eyes and nude lips, leaving my hair hanging in a tousled, wavy mess, when there ’ s a pounding at my front door. My body buzzes with nervous energy. I can ’ t remember the last time I went out on the town with Laura.

I open the door, and her jaw drops. “ Jesus, Vee. You look fucking naked. Hot as hell, but naked.” I laugh.

“ You look great , too. Pre-drinks? We still have awhile to kill before the club gets lively.”

“ Yeah, I have a feeling I ’ m going to need them.” She scans my body again as she walks past me, shaking her head and whistling loudly.

I close the door and make my way to the minibar in my living room to set us up with some shooters. Nothing gets the blood flowing like a Wet Pussy. Pun intended.

“ Oh, you dirty bitch. Some things never change.” Her face lights up as she catches on.

I pass her the first. “ Here ’ s to getting drunk with my favorite wench.”

“ I ’ m your only wench. Here ’ s to the real thing.” She winks, tipping back the shot, causing me to choke on mine, laughing hard.

After four shots each, we ’ re a rosy glow stepping out of our cab in front of Kicks, the new retro club that opened a month or so ago.

“ How ’ d you hear about this place? It looks neat-o.”

Jeremy . My pulse hums at the mere thought of him. Damn traitorous body. “ Neat-o? You run out of adjectives?” I ’ m still giggling when the bouncer lets us in. “ Oh, wow. This is neat-o.”

Laura laughs as we take in the club, my face breaking into a huge grin at what I see. It ’ s fantastic and all sorts of pretty. The lighting is low, with an array of colors illuminates the place. Like the dance floor, what I can see of it, is a multicolored checkerboard, each square lighting up at different intervals. And the bar looks to be made of polished chrome, the front panel a rainbow of glowing colors shining through the waiting patrons. A few colored strobes seem to float above the crowd, hovering in the air on wisps of smoke coming from the top level. I love that, for once, they aren ’ t flashing like a disco ball having an epileptic fit. Maybe I ’ m getting old. God, when did that happen?

Laura takes my hand and leads us left, toward the bar and away from the thumping dance floor. The DJ in the back is cranking out a familiar tune, a mix of R so much so that I open my eyes, certain I ’ ll find just that. Instead, I ’ m surrounded by a sea of dancing, albeit oblivious, bodies. With my pulse still vibrating, I can ’ t help but look to where I last saw Jeremy. My breath catches on the way in when I find his burning blue eyes looking right at me, his hands gripping the railing hard enough to turn his knuckles white.

My heart rate soars as I continue to stare, drowning in the heat glaring back at me. It ’ s intoxicating, and I ’ m completely rooted to the spot, transfixed. I ’ m struggling for breath when a body bumps into me, pulling my attention from Jeremy and breaking the spell. I turn to find a short, stocky guy drunkenly swaying to his own beat. He leers at me, and I decide now is as good a time as any to get another drink. Chancing a quick glance at the railing, I find it empty and stumble, bumping into the drunk. Apologizing, I hurry to sidestep him and fight the urge to search Jeremy out, looking toward Laura instead, finding her preoccupied with a tongue down her throat. She ’ s more than fine, I conclude.

I weave through the thick mass of dancing bodies, dodging elbows and toes left, right, and center, when my heart stills moments before a familiar warmth comes up behind me and a firm hand presses to my side.

“ May I have this dance?” Jeremy says against my ear, his lips brushing the lobe, sending shockwaves ricocheting across my skin.

My heart is frantic, and I ’ m breathing hard, struggling to steady myself before I turn around.

“ It ’ s not that kinda place. Besides, I was just getting a drink.”

God, he looks good. Dark shirt, dark, tight slacks, his eyes even more captivating up close. I ’ ve never seen them blaze so fiercely. I want to dive into the deep blue hue, drown in its depths, never coming up for air.

“ Later.”

I nod, I think.

He takes my hand, pulling me back into the crowd until we hit the middle of it. There ’ s barely enough room to stand, leaving only an inch between us and enough energy to set the room on fire. I can smell his heavy scent, smooth and delicious, with hints of sage and allspice tonight. It ’ s overwhelming the last of my restraint.

I snap to and try to turn the tables. Walking around Jeremy, I trail my fingers up along his forearm to his shoulder and lean in, my breasts brushing against his back.

“ I didn ’ t peg you for the dancing type,” I practically yell in his ear, fighting to be heard over the beat.

I pull back enough to see the lopsided grin I love, and he shakes his head. Moving further around, I run my fingers down the hard planes of his back, brushing his belt as I go. He reaches out, taking my hips in both hands, and pulls me to his side.

“ I ’ m not,” he says in my ear, his breath warm and seductive, “ but I wasn ’ t about to let that stop me. Your body, especially in this dress, is inspiring and indecent.”

I grin from ear to ear.

“ Besides ,”— Jeremy spins me around a few times in a tight circle until I fall into his chest, laughing—“we ’ ve already established that I don ’ t like to watch, and I ’ ve done enough watching lately. I wouldn ’ t survive another night of it.”

My body alights and my laughter dies. His hands slide from my hips to my waist as he sways to the music, taking my body with him, brushing his fingertips against the bare skin at my back with every thrum of the bass.

“ Careful, Jer. I ’ m starting to think you ’ ve changed your mind.” I tease, unnerved.

His lips twitch in response, and his gaze moves to my mouth.

Fuck.

“ You keep touching me like this, I might think you mean it.”

Jeremy ’ s hands move down along the edge of my dress to my ass, gripping it with force, and I feel rather than hear him groan, no doubt discovering my lack of underwear. My breath hitches as he yanks me forward, flush against every hard inch of him. We ’ re nose to nose, and I can ’ t move, even if I wanted to. I don ’ t even know which way I ’ d go if I did. Pull back and laugh it off, or push and see just how far I could take it?

Jeremy moves first, grazing his nose along my cheek until he reaches my ear. “ Is that what you wanted to know? Is that what you needed? Because I can ’ t help how my body responds to you, but I can control what I do with it.”

He turns me around before I can respond, pressing me to him with a firm right hand to my abdomen, his left brushing the hair off my shoulder, doing crazy things to the bare skin at my back. His lips run across my hammering pulse and up to my ear, his warm breath sending tiny tremors along my flesh.

“ Dance with me.” He rocks his hips to the beat, my own responding in kind. “ Dance with me like you mean it.”

I try to focus on the music and not on his hands playing havoc on my body, but it ’ s a losing battle. Giving in to it, I close my eyes and lean into him, wrapping an arm around his neck, his mouth trailing along the exposed flesh of my shoulder.

It doesn ’ t take long to find our rhythm—it ’ s sleek and sexual, my skin a live wire. Every brush of Jeremy ’ s hands along my sides, my back, my hips sends sparks across my body, teasing me into a frenzy. I raise my other arm and shimmy my way down his torso, my hands trailing behind me, noticing the way his breath hitches in as I reach the floor. I take my time sliding my way back up, messing with him further.

“ You don ’ t play fair, Viv.” His fingers dig into my hips as I sway and rub against him. The friction is deliciously torturous. “ I ’ m more than thankful we ’ re not alone.”

I twist in his grasp, my hands moving to his firm chest, working their way down. I look up into his midnight blue orbs, the fierce desire staring back at me piercing me hard. “ That ’ s never stopped me before…” I trail off, twisting my hands up and under his shirt to the smooth, firm skin of his back.

A tremor runs through him and into my fingers, my pulse spiking with satisfaction. Jeremy reciprocates, catching me off guard as a hand moves to the V of my dress, slipping underneath the stretchy fabric and cupping my bare ass. One stray finger releases its firm grip, tracing the arc in a slow, tantalizing rhythm back and forth, causing my breathing to quicken. All my nerve endings seem singularly directed to his finger and its incessant caressing. To the acute sensations he ’ s eliciting throughout my body, short-circuiting all relevant—hell, even irrelevant—thought, and sending a hyper pulse to one sole location mere inches from that damn finger.

“ We ’ re playing a dangerous game,” I breathe out, barely above a whisper.

Somehow Jeremy catches it, his hand gripping my ass tighter in response. He drags his fingers up, digging into the soft flesh, and to the opposite hip, turning me in his arms. His palm slides over my bare skin to my stomach.

“ Who said anything about playing?” he breathes in my ear, his fingers tracing circles around my navel.

I have no response, no words, except don ’ t stop . It ’ s hypnotizing, lulling me into a state as his hand moves down, then back up. Each time getting lower and lower.

“ Jer? ”

“ Go with it.” He smiles against my ear before nipping it, pulling the lobe into his mouth and sucking.

“ Go—oh, god.” I shudder, and he pulls me tighter to him, his hand dipping deeper as his fingers curl in. “ Jeremy.”

“ Fuck, you feel good. You ’ ve been haunting me. It ’ s all I can think about, my hands replacing yours.”

He slides his hand further, keeping his palm flush against me, minimizing its visibility as he teases me, my breaths coming faster and faster with each stroke, each flick of his fingers.

“ I want to be the one. The one to make your heart race, your blood pulse, your flesh burn with fever. I need to feel you come undone, for me, because of me.”

I sink my teeth into my bottom lip, his fingers finding their mark over and over again. I continue to sway awkwardly to the music, trying and failing to pretend Jeremy ’ s not getting me off in the middle of a crowded dance floor, in front of everyone.

I freeze.

“ I…can ’ t,” I whimper.

“ I beg to differ.”

He thrusts deeper and adds his thumb to the mix. “ Oh, god, Jer!” I ’ m three seconds from falling apart, but I can ’ t. “ No. No, no, no.”

I still his hand and pull it free, then push my way through the crowd, Jeremy hot on my heels.

Fuck . I can ’ t breathe.

It ’ s too hot, too crowded. I feel caged in, claustrophobic even. I could scoff at the irony of that. Finally breaking free of the crowd, I head for the hallway behind the bar and push through the door reading “ staff only.”

“ Vivienne? ” Jeremy crashes through after me.

I can ’ t speak. Too …pent-up, too tightly wound. I begin to pace in the small room, my body on fire. I ’ ve never had an issue with a little exhibitionism, and it ’ s not like anyone was paying attention to us , anyway. Everyone was lost in the trance, in their own little orgasmic bubbles. I just…my pace slows as the feeling of his fingers comes rushing back.

“ I couldn ’ t.”

I shake my head, desperate for clarity. It doesn ’ t come. Jeremy comes up behind me, his hands capturing my hips again, stilling me further, and kisses my shoulder lightly. Just a soft brush of his lips. It ’ s a sweet gesture, but I shiver all the same. Why does he affect me so damn much?

“ Not with you, not out there. It felt…” Wrong . “ I couldn ’ t.” Damn it, what ’ s wrong with me?

I feel him smile against my skin as he lifts his head up. “ Really ? That ’ s why you stopped me? I could feel how close you were. I can still feel your heart racing now.” His hands move across my belly, and I snap.

Turning in his arms, my fingers fly to his belt, making quick work of it. “ My turn.”

“ Whoa, hold up.” I slide a hand inside, and I ’ m rewarded with a shudder. Oh, god, he feels incredible. “ Jesus, Viv. ”

I smile as Jeremy ’ s eyes close as my hand slides against his length, but it ’ s restricted, annoyingly so. I drop to my knees, ignoring the discomfort the hard floor brings, and remove my hand, running my tongue along the bare skin above his briefs.

His eyes go wide, and his hands fly to my shoulders. “ Vivienne, ” he groans and squeezes as my fingers pull on his straining fly, my tongue following the path. “ God, oh, Jesus. Wait. ”

He pulls me to my feet and pins me against the wall, his body pressing so tightly against mine it ’ s almost painful, then his hands are gripping my face and his lips are on mine, sucking the very breath from my lungs.

I gasp, or moan, in shock, giving him full access, and I can do nothing but take it. And goddamn, do I take it. Every heart-stopping second his lips capture mine, his tongue probes my mouth, teasing, tormenting, taking. Like silken steel that tastes of whiskey and something else sweet. The pressure is forceful, consuming, but his lips are plush, intoxicating, overwhelmingly so. Time stands still, all sound ceasing to exist as he finally takes what he wants, what I never wanted to give. But all too soon, or not soon enough, it ’ s over, and his lips are pulling back, his breath coming fast and heavy.

“ You deserve more than to be on your knees in a dark corner of a club.” He brushes his lips across mine again, scorching them with barely restrained desire. “ You ’ re worth more than that.”

And just like that, he leaves.