Somebody to Save (Someone, Somewhere #3)

Chapter 1

ONE

BUBBLES

Beckett

In a room full of beautiful people, she was a fucking star.

In the least creepy way possible, I’d been watching her all night.

It was opening night for my best friend, Nathan’s, invite-only sex club, Abditory. And he’d decided a Halloween costume party was the best way to celebrate.

The first floor was a bar and lounge, while the second and third were private rooms and an open play area.

He’d done a damn good job with the entire place, but I never doubted that he would.

He’d confided in me throughout the process, and as a “thank you,” he’d given me a key to one of the rooms on the second floor.

“To use as I please,” according to him.

And I had no intention of using it until I saw her.

Her costume caught my attention first. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a streak of light blue among a sea of dark costumes.

My Phantom from The Phantom of the Opera costume had seen better days, but it was what I had in my closet.

Everyone was dressed similarly to me, but not my Bubbles.

The nickname I’d given her wasn’t original, but it made sense. She was dressed up as Bubbles from the Powerpuff Girls. Her cute little blue dress fanned out around her thighs, and a black belt around her waist accentuated curves I’d already memorized.

She was not who I expected to find at this party, but fuck, I was so glad I did.

She was standing in the corner of the lounge, staring up at one of the many erotic paintings lining the wall when I finally decided I couldn’t lurk any longer, and I had to know what her voice sounded like or if I could make her laugh.

“This one is my favorite,” I said low enough that only she could hear me.

If she was surprised by my presence, she didn’t let it show. She lifted her drink to her lips and took a short sip as she tilted her head. Her cute little blonde pigtails swung with her.

“All of the women grinding on a…uh…large penis, I wonder why it’s your favorite,” she muttered sarcastically.

She finally peered up at me, and I got my first real look at her. Distance did her no justice, because up close, she was fucking gorgeous. She had a cute little nose and wide green eyes. A sweet blush stained her cheeks, and there was a light red birthmark down the left side of her neck.

Swallowing, I tried to school my expression—which was already hidden by the mask I wore—and my thoughts as I looked back at the painting.

Honestly, I didn’t have a favorite painting. Rather than pay attention to the room or the art hanging on the walls, I’d been a little more preoccupied with Bubbles. Watching her take it all in was so much better.

“You’re right, it is a little on the nose, although that wasn’t necessarily the reason. Which one is your favorite?”

I motioned to the rest of the art, and she peered at each of them, carefully considering my question.

“This one,” she said, pointing to the one just to my left. It was of a woman and a man lying together on a bed. They were tangled together like they’d just finished having sex. “It feels…intimate, natural.”

I hummed and walked a few steps to take a closer look. It was beautiful, and I agreed with her description.

“I especially like how they’ve painted her,” she continued. “They didn’t try to hide what we’ve been conditioned to believe are her imperfections.” She motioned to the curve of her stomach and the stretch marks on her inner thigh.

Hell, those features were my favorite. Those parts just made her more beautiful.

“But even with all those so-called imperfections, she’s still desired.”

There was a beat of silence between us that I knew lingered too long, but I was struggling to organize my thoughts.

“Or maybe it says something more about me that I picked out all those imperfections.” She laughed, and I thought her nervous rambling was cute.

Shrugging, I smiled down at her. “Then maybe it says something about me, too. Because I noted those perceived imperfections. Although, to me, they’re anything but imperfect. They are often my favorite thing about a woman’s body. They are everything that makes her…her.”

Her chest quickly rose and fell, and her eyes locked on my face. The warm light emanating from the sconces on the wall was dim, but still I could see the blush bloom across her cheeks and down her neck.

“Would you like another drink, Bubbles?”

“Yeah, that would be—” She stopped and looked up at me, confusion marring her perfect features. “Bubbles?”

I motioned to her outfit as I led us toward the bar. “That’s who you’re dressed as, right?”

We both set our glasses on the bar top, and I motioned to the bartender for another round.

“Yes, but I guess I’m just surprised you recognized it.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Doesn’t seem like your type of TV show.”

“I guess it wasn’t really,” I admitted as the bartender handed us our fresh drinks. “It came out when I was a teenager, so I wasn’t going to be caught dead watching a TV show about three kindergarten girls with superpowers.”

Bubbles took her drink and lifted the straw to her lips, but I noticed her eyes narrow like she was thinking hard about the clues I’d just given her.

“I can see you doing the math in your head,” I laughed.

She shook her head and quickly mumbled, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’ll save you the trouble—I’m almost forty.”

The reaction I expected didn’t come. For a woman who I could already tell wore her thoughts on her face, she didn’t appear stunned or concerned by my omission. I hoped I could only do the same if she offered me her own age.

There was no doubt she was younger than me, but it was a matter of how much younger.

“Well, I was born five years too late to see the premiere of Powerpuff Girls.”

That mental math was much easier, which meant she had to be about twenty-three, and she by far was the youngest woman I’d ever been interested in.

Like we both knew where we were going without discussing it, we walked back to an empty velvet couch in the corner where we were before.

“So, how did you score an invite? Or is it top secret?” she asked.

I motioned for her to take a seat first, then I sat with an acceptable amount of room between us. Well, almost. My thigh brushed hers, and she shivered.

“Not top secret,” I said, hiding my smile at her reaction behind a sip of my whiskey. “My best friend owns the place, and I’ve helped him a little along the way.”

I told her how Nathan decided one day that the city needed an exclusive, invite-only sex club where anyone could be themselves and explore their desires in a safe, inclusive way. So, he’d opened Abditory.

When I confirmed that it wasn’t my job as an attorney that had scored me an invite, she admitted that the event planning company she worked for was also invited. I loved the way she lit up when she talked about her work. I could have listened to her talk about it all night.

Two hours passed so quickly, I was surprised to hear the announcement that they were opening the upper floors.

In the hours we’d been talking, we managed to migrate closer to one another.

Her legs were curled up on the couch, and her knees brushed my thigh.

I felt the warmth of her inadvertent touch radiate up my leg.

“How…how does someone go about getting one of those rooms upstairs?”

It was the last question I expected her to ask, and I straightened in response. For no other reason than I had to steel myself for where this was leading. Because being in a room with Bubbles was the only way I wanted this to end.

Sticking my hand inside my coat pocket, I fished out the key and held it out to her in my palm. “You need a key,” I said, but when she went to reach for it, I continued, “I just need to know one thing before we go up there, because fuck, Bubbles, I really want to go up there with you.”

She swallowed, and my teeth ground together as her finger brushed mine, tracing a circle around the key and slipping over my wrist.

“What’s your name?” I asked, my voice rough with need.

Her eyes abruptly bounced to mine, and her fingers froze. There was a long beat of silence, like she was contemplating how she’d respond.

When her fingers continued their pattern across my hand, she glanced down at the key. “This is just for tonight, right?”

No. My mind was yelling at me that it was wrong. That one night wasn’t enough and would never be enough. But I couldn’t tell her that. I’d never felt a pull so strong or desire like a goddamn flame burning deep inside me.

“It can be whatever you want, Bubbles.”

“Then what good is my name going to do?”

God, she was full of surprises.

Needing to feel more of her, I dropped my hand to her thigh and pushed it ever so slightly higher, just beneath the hem of her short skirt, where she could feel the size of my palm and imagine it elsewhere.

Leaning forward, I kept my voice low as I pushed her hair behind her ear. “If I don’t know your real name, what am I supposed to cry out when my cock is buried deep inside your perfectly tight, wet cunt in less than ten minutes?”

She did a good job of almost biting back her moan, but it still managed to slip free. My hand tightened on reflex, and she squeezed her thighs together, forcing my hand higher up her dress.

I had to muster all my restraint to pull back, and it was by some fucking miracle that I actually did.

She took a deep breath, and I was glad at least that she was affected as much as I was.

“I’m sure you can come up with an alternative,” she said, her voice breathy and sweet. “I like Bubbles. It’s cute.”

I smiled and was about to say something really witty and charming when I felt someone approach us from behind the couch.

“Hey, Beckett. I knew I’d see you here, man. How are you?”

Fuck me. I guess she knew my name now. And of course it was Jared who would interrupt us. He was a colleague and an acquaintance I knew through Nathan. He was a fine guy, but he was also the very last person I wanted to talk to.

We talked for a minute. I wasn’t even sure what exactly we talked about.

All I wanted to do was end it as quickly as it began so I could go back to the woman beside me.

His eyes darted to her, and a possessive wave whipped through me.

I wasn’t expecting it, but I wasn’t going to fight it either.

I tightened my hold on her thigh and leaned even closer.

When he finally walked away, I blew out a deep breath. “Well, now you know my name.”

She chewed her lower lip like she was trying to hide her smile. “Then I won’t use it when you, what did you say? When your”—she cleared her throat—“cock is buried deep inside my tight, wet…cunt.”

The words seemed out of place coming out of her sweet mouth. She said them like she didn’t know exactly how they would feel or sound rolling off her lips. But with or without confidence, I wanted to hear her say them over and over again.

“Fuck, that sounded so good coming out of your sweet, pouty mouth. You can call me anything you want as long as you keep talking like that,” I whispered. “What would you like to call me then? Do you have something in mind?”

She peered up at me under dark lashes and readjusted, making my hand once again slip higher up her thigh. Only this time, I wasn’t moving away. I could feel the heat from her cunt, and I wanted to bury myself between her legs.

Reaching forward, she toyed with a piece of my hair behind my ear and licked her lips. She glanced from her fingers back to my face, and I could feel her hesitance. It was on the tip of my tongue to reassure her, but she didn’t need it.

“What about Daddy?”