Chapter Three
Breaking the Rules
Anthony
Big Vick’s bawdy laughter chased me from the table.
I heard the club president, Mark, talking shit with his son, my best-friend, Mak Miller as she reeled me toward that stage. I don’t know how else to explain it. She had me in a vise, drawing me closer with every breath.
“That fucking dumbass is in love,” Mark howled, “I swear to fuck, you’d think he never saw a twat with coco oil before. Boy, what the fuck is wrong–?”
“Leave him alone,” Big Vick, cut him off.
They could have recorded the shit, I didn’t give a fuck. I was never more grateful for them lights cutting off, I was tenting and clenching my fists so tight the edge of my nails had left little, crescent-shaped indents on my flesh when I finally exhaled.
I slid a hand over my face, unsure of how I was going to get her out of here, but there wasn’t any two ways about it. She and I were headed out back.
Immediately.
“Get your ass in the champagne room. I’ll send her back. It’s on me. You’re welcome.” Big Vick guffawed.
“No. Jesus, Vick. He’s like a goddamn puppy dog already. We ain’t got time for this shit. We got three more clubs to hit on the way home,” Mark bitched, but I didn’t stick around to hear the end of it.
Vick shoved me at some chick with red hair and she led me back to the hallway near the receptionist. She was still too smiley, and still checking identification as people trickled in.
“This way, please.” Red smiled turning to the left. The room didn’t have tiles. It had little blocks of mirror, in the shape of bricks. An oversized chair was positioned in one corner with a table next to it.
“Where is she?” I turned on the girl like she’d tricked me.
She backed up, both her hands coming up defensively, “She’s coming. Promise. Let me get you a drink, maybe you could just sit–”
“Get out,” I clipped.
The minute she did, I ruffled my hair in the mirror and rolled my shoulders, forcing myself to tone it down a little and take a seat. Goddamn. This girl had me like a fucking livewire. I didn’t get this excited about anything.
Every second I waited felt like another eternity. My knee started twitching as I rocked the heel of my boot impatiently on the floor.
A trickle of glass sounded and I shot to the edge of the seat and turned on the door. My eyebrows pinched hard as I prepared to tell that redhead off if she’d come back to waste my time.
The sight of her in that little, leather skirt and the dark-gemstone bikini melted every bit of irritation off my face.
“Sorry, handsome. I’m slow when cleaning up and changing between acts.” She stepped into the room and my thoughts scattered with a single brush of her painted nail.
I closed my eyes as she teased her fingers along my jaw and stepped into my space. Her slender form teased against me, the beads smooth, yet hard against my chest before her lips found the base of my throat.
I grabbed her hip and gripped her like she’d thrown a shot at me. She gave a quiet gasp and stared into my eyes. Her breath was sweet, her perfume smelled like fresh rain. Crisp. Inviting. Clean.
I wanted to pick her up and take her with me. I wanted to explore every inch of her, inside and out. I wanted our worlds to collide like they almost had when she was on that stage.
I wanted to wake up with her staring at me like that every day.
“Tell me your name,” Her lips flinched, but I didn’t give her a chance to disappoint me before specifying, “and don’t fuckin’ lie to me.”
Her eyes subtly widened and I felt her weave on those stilettos just a little bit, before her fingers latched onto my shoulder and she hauled herself to her tiptoes, whispering beneath the obnoxious beat of the showroom, “It’s Crystal, but I can’t tell you that.”
I smiled, a sense of victory carrying on the adrenaline that pumped through my veins.
She broke the rules.
For. Me.
She felt it, too, whatever the fuck this was, how the hell could she not?
“Who are you supposed to tell your secrets to?” I murmured, stepping back just enough to allow room for my hands to slide up and frame her face instead.
“N-no one.” She sounded like she was in a daze, before she repeated with a bit more conviction, “I don’t have anyone.”
Her hand drifted down to my chest, allowing me to take control of the encounter and more importantly, her.
I came into the room for a quickie.
I came into this room to set fire to this girl and leave her haunted by the memory of my touch when I left…
So, why the fuck did I lean down and smash my mouth to hers like I was laying claims and erasing prior trespassers?
I kissed her aggressively, sampling the flavor of her lips and testing them for lies. When I came up for air, the vulnerability in those blue jewels convinced me of her words.
She didn’t have any man.
I slid my hands back, tangling my fingers in that gorgeous blonde hair, and tightening my grip until the tension on her scalp surely conveyed how much of a mistake it would be to mislead or disappoint me, “You ain’t been letting anybody in that pretty little box of yours?
Hmm? That’s what you want me to believe? ”