Chapter 19
HARPER-RAYN
The music vibrates right through to my soul as Izzy and I waste our night away dancing on the sticky nightclub dancefloor.
It must be . . . shit. I can’t even begin to guess what the time is.
We didn’t end up leaving my apartment until after ten, and since then, I’ve allowed the alcohol and music to take control.
My body sways as I do everything in my power to forget the guilt that’s been coursing through my veins since the moment I decided not to clue Knight in on the bullshit that went down in my bedroom with my stalker.
As far as I’m concerned, Knight thinks my home is safe, and if he knew that my stalker showed himself and physically touched me, I can guarantee he would have me wrapped in bubble wrap and handcuffed to the headboard of his bed.
Though on second thought, that might not be the worst thing in the world.
On some level, I know I need to tell Knight what happened, but how can I tell him that I allowed a stranger to touch me, and not only did I like it, he made me come?
I have to keep this to myself, at least for now.
Tonight though, all I need to worry about is having a good time.
The overhead strobe lights flash as Izzy and I let loose, our bodies rolling as we sip on our drinks and have the night of our lives.
Men have come and gone, but for the last hour, I’ve had two all over me, and while I’m not about to drop to my knees and take them both at once, I’m more than happy to let them grind against me and make me feel like the most desirable woman they’ve ever laid eyes on.
The loud music makes it almost impossible to hear a word either of them says, but truth be told, I don’t care what they have to say.
Tonight is about being free, being desired, and getting wildly drunk.
Izzy and I laugh as another man approaches her, and the sultry look she gives him is all the approval he needs to move in behind her and let her grind her ass all over him.
I can’t help but laugh as she blows this man’s tiny mind, barely laying a finger on him, and honestly, it makes me wish that Knight was here, grinding up against me, but that’s never going to happen.
We can’t be anything to each other, and if I were smart, I wouldn’t have said a thing to Laith.
I would have continued to allow him to rock my world, and hopefully he would have rocked it so well that I worked Knight right out of my system.
Assuming that’s even possible, of course.
Working Knight out of my system? Shit. That’s a tall order.
Is it even possible to work someone out of your system when you haven’t even had nearly enough of them yet?
But despite how he thinks I’m about to become his little needy whore, I can’t.
We have to force a divide between us. I have to stop running to him every time something fucked up happens at work.
I can’t rely on somebody I can’t have because, sooner or later, I’ll become attached, and when that happens, I’m up shit creek without a paddle.
The music makes me feel alive, and the more I drink, the more I forget about the bullshit of this week and just allow myself to have fun.
My body moves, and as the random men dancing with me take my waist and put their hands all over me, I can’t help but picture the way Knight would dance, the way he would touch me, the way his hips would grind against my ass.
And damn it, I’ve never needed anything more.
As I fantasize about the one man I shouldn’t want, the music shifts, and the alcohol starts to make my brain feel fuzzy. A strange shiver sails down my spine, making the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
My body goes stiff, and I whip around, my eyes wide as I search the faces of the people around me.
He’s here.
My stalker is here, and his eyes are locked on me.
Fear rockets through my chest, and as my body comes to a stop, one of the men leans in with his hand still on my waist. “You good, baby? You look as though you’ve seen a ghost?”
I swallow over the fear, trying to remember the rules of his deadly game of hide and seek as I search for him in the crowded club, but it’s useless. I don’t know who I’m looking for, don’t know the lines of his face, the color of his eyes. I’m looking for a needle in a haystack.
My heart hammers. What the hell does he want with me?
If I scream, I fail. If I run, I die.
He’s here to play.
The man’s hand tightens on my waist, and I realize he’s still waiting for a response, and I plaster on a fake smile. “Oh, yeah . . . I . . . just need another drink.”
He nods, and a stupid grin lifts the corner of his lips, probably thinking he’ll have a better chance at fucking me in the men’s room if I’m wasted. “Stay here. Dance. I’ll get it.”
I smile and nod, and as his hands drop away from my body, I make a mental note not to drink a sip of whatever fresh bullshit he brings me. I’m usually pretty trusting overall, but not when it comes to strange men in a club offering me drinks.
His friend immediately moves in, stepping behind me and taking my waist as he rolls his hips against my ass. His hands skim across my waist, and I’ve got to give it to him, he knows what he’s doing. For just a fleeting second, he almost makes me forget about the shivers down my spine.
My body loosens up again, and as I dance with this man, my gaze continues scanning the club.
I search every single face, bypassing Izzy’s as she locks lips with the perfect stranger she’s dancing with, and despite my current predicament, I take a moment to cheer her on.
She works so hard. She deserves a night to let her hair down and get crazy.
I just hope this guy can keep up with her.
She has high standards for the men she takes to bed, or in this case, the men she screws on the end of the bar.
Something pulls my gaze across the room, and as the bodies move and sway to the music, a dark figure steps out of the shadows.
The familiar gothic skull mask stares back at me, and I falter, my body falling back against the man’s chest behind me.
He takes it as an invitation to hold me tighter, his cock pressed up against my ass.
Not good.
I can’t tear my eyes off him as his penetrating stare leaves me breathless, yet as my body moves to the music, I can’t help but feel as though he enjoys it.
If I play his game, give him what he wants, then what do I have to lose?
It’s better than the alternative of running for my life and ending up in a body bag, waiting for Dr. McKullan to perform my autopsy.
I have to play his game. I have no other choice. And with that, I decide to put on a show.
I use the man behind me as my prop, moving my body against his as I keep my eyes locked on the captivating stranger across the room. I tease him with my moves, arching my back and giving him exactly what he wants, making sure he gets the perfect view of my body.
The man behind me gets into it, sensing the change in me and assuming it has everything to do with him.
His hands become bolder on my body, grazing over my tits before dipping low between my thighs and cupping my pussy.
I grind against his hand as the hypnotic stare from across the club leaves me desperate for round two.
The way he brought my body to the edge in my bedroom was everything, and though I know the risks involved, I can’t help but want more. I want to drop to my knees for this man. I want to make him lose control the way he did for me.
The man behind me leans in, his lips brushing my ear intimately. “You wanna get out of here?”
I shake my head, still keeping my eyes on my stalker. “I’m not ready to leave,” I tell him.
“We don’t need to leave,” he says. “But I need to fuck you, you little tease. You wanna take a ride on my cock?”
Ugh.
I shake my head. “I just wanna dance.”
His grip tightens on my waist, and while the idea of being fucked into oblivion is doing wicked things to me, it’s not him or his friend I want touching me. Plus, the idea of being gang raped in the alleyway behind the club isn’t as appealing to me as I’m sure it is to him.
He groans in my ear. “Come on. I know you’re down for it. Promise, you’ll love it.”
I turn in his arms, realizing I’m going to have to get rid of this guy somehow, and seeing as though he’s thinking with his dick, there’s probably only one way to do this.
“Okay, but I’m not leaving with you,” I finally tell him, beaming up at him as I continue moving my body against his, pressing my tits into his hands.
“Why don’t you go to the bathroom, and I’ll meet you there in a second? ”
His lips twist with excitement, an uneasy pride shining in his eyes, and he looks at me as though he’s just gotten away with something. “Okay, tease. Don’t keep me waiting long.”
“I won’t.”
His hands fall away from my body, and he slinks away to the men’s room. The moment he’s out of sight, I slip away into the crowd, grazing past Izzy to let her know I’m still alive. But with her lips still more than occupied, I doubt she even realizes it was me who just touched her.
I make a mental note to keep my eye on her, and as the alcohol begins to make me wobbly on my feet, I find my stalker across the room. I can’t help but gravitate toward him, my pussy throbbing with a wild need that only he could possibly satisfy right now.
Nerves spike in my chest, but with his dark gaze locked on mine, nothing is holding me back.
I beeline toward him, and the closer I get, the more secluded we become from the rest of the club.
My tongue rolls over my lips, my chest heaving with the same mix of fear and desire I felt in my bedroom, and damn it, I need to feel his hands on my body.