The Silvia Saga: Boxset

Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Dara

Loud music bounces around the large space. The atmosphere is dark and moody with shaded red lighting, making the ground floor space feel relaxing. This first level is for the after-work drinkers who want to chill and chat with their friends. By the looks, the next level has the dance floor where everyone goes to party and let their hair down. I can’t wait to get up there.

We head to the bar downstairs and holler to the waitress.

“What can I getcha, ladies?” she says, approaching us.

“Can we get two beers and two shots of tequila?” I pull out some cash before Kayla can get the chance. I’m definitely going to regret the tequila tomorrow but tonight I’m going to let loose.

“Hey, it’s your birthday celebration, so I should be shouting you,” she complains, scrunching up her nose.

“Yeah, you got next round,” I say, passing the waitress the money. She hands us our drinks and we head over to a booth in the corner.

We slide into the booth and sit, getting comfortable. Kayla lifts her shot glass. “Cheers to you, Dar. Here’s to your twenty-fifth birthday. Fuck, you’re a quarter-century. Bitch, you’re getting old,” she teases.

We touch our glasses together and neck the tequila. A shudder goes through my body as the deadly liquor goes down my throat. Fuck, this shit is lethal.

“Tell me why you chose tequila? Holy shit, this is poison.” Secretly I know she loves it, or she will very soon when it hits her. Tequila is the easiest way to get the most fucked up in a short period of time.

I take a good gulp of my beer to make the burning taste go away, taking in my surroundings. A mixture of women and men are dancing around, throwing their heads back in pure joy. A few guys stalk about, most likely trying to find someone to take home for the night. This bitch needs to get laid or at least get some pleasure down there. I’m sure it’s sick of my fingers and vibrator.

After we’re finished our drinks, Kayla gets up and walks over to the bar and orders us some more. As per usual, a good-looking guy in a business suit finds her and whispers in her ear. She chuckles and points over to our booth.

I shrink a little as the guy looks my way, hating the attention he’s giving me. I do wanna get laid, but when it comes to guys and flirting, it’s a losing battle. I have no idea what to say to strangers other than how’s the weather outside or did you see this on the news. Fuck, this is going to be fun. Kayla struts back to me with Mr Business Suit hot on her heels. She shuffles in and puts our drinks down on the table, passing me another shot and beer.

I lean in, whispering into her ear, “You are gone all of five seconds and you bring back a stray to the table. You are a piece of work, girl. Who’s this guy?” I gesture to the man.

Kayla lets out a laugh and rolls her eyes.

“Hi, I’m Malcolm. Nice to meet you,” he says, putting out his hand.

I shake it. “Dara. Likewise.” I pick up the shot and chuck it back. It feels as though it burns a hole in my throat as it trickles down.

Phew, the way these bad boys are going down I will be ready to hit that dance floor sooner rather than later. It might actually be Kayla’s turn to drag my drunk-arse home. I like the sound of that.

“So, what have you ladies got planned for tonight?” Malcolm asks as he leans back, throwing an arm across Kayla’s shoulder.

“Oh, well, it’s my girl’s birthday tonight, so we are out celebrating, hoping to meet some nice guys to take us home," Kayla says, fluttering her eyes at Malcolm.

I snicker at Kayla’s attempt at flirting.

She is always so forthcoming and says what she is thinking. It’s what I love about her—her being so down to earth.

Malcolm chuckles at her antics, having no idea what he has gotten himself into. “I might be able to help you with that. I have a few mates upstairs. I just came down here to get some air. It is pretty intense up there.”

Kayla giggles. “Perfect! Sounds like my type of atmosphere.”

I sit here mute, watching these two interact. I finish my beer and get up out of the booth. “All right, you ready to hit the dance floor?” I ask, doing a little bum dance. Shit. I think those tequilas have gone straight to my head.

“Hell, yeah, if you’re going to be dancing like that,” Kayla hollers as she walks past me, slapping me on the arse. We head over to the bar and have one more shot, then move toward the stairs. As we get higher up, the music gets louder, and the bass is pumping. My body can feel each pulse and I love it. I stop for a second and embrace the ambience and space.

The dance floor is in the centre with the bar surrounding the whole area in a half circle. There’s got to be more than a thousand people in here. It’s pumping and looks to be at capacity with everyone grinding up on each other like aroused wild animals letting loose. Hell, yes, I want to get up in that.

I catch up with Kayla and Malcolm as I was too busy daydreaming. “All right, this place is pumping. Let’s get in there,” I yell toward Kayla, so she can hear me.

She nods and grabs my arm, dragging me into the crowd. There is a mixture of men and women, but as usual, the men overpower the women ten to one. A lot of dick, but not as much pussy in here. Well, that suits me just fine. People surround us at every turn. We stop once we get right amongst everyone and start to dance. Malcolm comes up behind Kayla and starts dancing up on her. He waves behind me, and I turn around to who I presume is one of his mates.

He appears to be in his late twenties with long shaggy hair that looks like he just rolled out of bed. His eyes are chocolate brown, and he winks.

Oh, yes, he will do just fine. I spin back around and start dancing again, grinding my arse into his cock, which hardens instantly. I close my eyes. Fuck, that feels so good. Blinking my eyes open, Kayla is staring right at me, giving me a cheeky grin.

I go a shade of red and giggle. Luckily it is dark in here, so I feel no shame. I’m feeling so good tonight. My mind and body are free.

The last few weeks I have been stressed with work and paranoid that someone is always following me. Tonight, I let it all go, letting my hair down and having fun with no worries. The music changes to 'Changes' by 2Pac—a remix that has everyone in the club thinking they’re gangsters. They all jump up and down in unison, rapping like they know the words.

Mr Hot Stuff puts his hands on my hips and starts swaying my hips with his. He does this for at least five minutes, then turns me around so fast that I don’t know what’s hit me. I am face to face with a different guy. Not just any guy—it’s him ... the guy I saw at my work last week, the one I bumped into at the shop and from my dreams. The blond-haired hottie who left me feeling all hot and bothered and thinking about him all week.

I look into his eyes, those crystal blue eyes that seem like I’m staring into the deep blue ocean. They are so breathtaking, so familiar as if I have seen them so many times before. But that’s not possible. His lips turn up with a slight smirk. Oh, fuck. He makes me so damn wet just by smirking at me.

He pulls me toward him and whisper-yells in my ear, “You like what you see, Princess? You have no idea the things you do to me. Your heart is mine and has been since the day you were born.” I shiver at his words. What is he even talking about? My heart doesn’t belong to him or anyone for that matter.

My hands press against his chest and then I shove him backwards. He stumbles but catches his feet and then in an instant he’s back in front of me with a cheeky grin. He grabs my shoulders and spins me around so that my back is hard up against him. His hard-on is digging into my arse, and I let out a little moan. My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I grind into him more, just to feel the length of him. OMG, he is huge, fuck.

“Moan for me again, my princess, and I will be dragging your hot little arse out of here so fucking fast you won’t know what hit you,” he whispers into my ear. Princess? Why does he keep calling me that? Everything disappears around us until it’s just me and him. His words may have confused me, but right now I want him.

“What’s your name?” I ask, leaning my head back to whisper in his ear.

“Oliver, and yours is Dara.”

I still at the mention of my name. What the hell? How does he know my name?