CHAPTER FIVE
S TEFANIE
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R ONNIE WHISTLED LOW under his breath the moment I stepped out of the bathroom.
“Biiitch!” His eyes trailed down my body, taking in the full effect that was me. “You tryna snatch up somebody’s son tonight, aren’t you?”
I smirked, smoothing my hands down the sides of my black dress, trying not to let him see just how affected I was by his word choice.
Somebody’s son. Julian Cattaneo.
Stop it, Stefanie!
“Sometimes, I’ve got to remind myself that I still got it.”
“Girl, you never lost it. We’ve gotten older, not less gorgeous. I see the comments people post online about you and the cute outfits you wear on television. You’re Mississippi’s favorite weather diva. Those guys on social media are thirsting for you.”
I chuckled. “Much to India’s embarrassment.”
“Tonight is not about my goddaughter. It’s about us having fun. I want you to loosen up some tonight, boo.”
“What if someone in the club recognizes me?” I asked, starting to worry, as I always did.
“Girl, these folks here don’t watch your news channel. It doesn’t even broadcast here. And if they do recognize you from social media, so what? Enjoying your life isn’t a crime. Plus, we look too goodt to be worried about anything tonight.”
Yes, we did. I turned to stare at myself in the full-length mirror hanging from the closet door. I was in love with the woman who stared back at me. She looked goodt, as Ronnie said. The dress hugged me like a second skin, dipping low in the front just enough to show off the swell of my breasts, my gold necklace dipping into the valley between them.
My dress stopped mid-thigh. All my morning runs had my thick thighs looking toned. My back was bare, smooth, and glowing from the shea butter I’d lathered on. My hair was a wild, curly crown, free and full, giving off that big hair energy that I loved.
Gold earrings dangled from my ears, matching the bracelet around my wrist and the anklet that glinted against my skin with every step. I looked like a snack, as the kids today said. Too bad there wasn’t anyone around to gobble me up.
Ronnie’s phone dinged. He checked it and then said, “That’s our Uber.” He clapped his hands. “Let’s go shut the city down.”
By the time we got to Neo Night Club, the parking lot was full, and the bass inside was already vibrating through the walls. The line was so long that I almost changed my mind about going in.
Luckily, Ronnie was a local celebrity. He winked at me as we strolled past the line of people still waiting to get in. Being the owner of one of the hottest restaurants in town had its perks. So did being the best friend of that owner.
Inside, the air was thick with vape smoke. Bodies swayed under flashing lights, the music so loud it felt like it was beating inside my chest. Ronnie led me through the crowd, his hand on my back as we maneuvered toward the bar.
“Two tequila sunrises,” he told the bartender, then turned to me with a grin. “First round is on me.”
Tequila!
My nemesis.
Tequila had gotten me in trouble a few times over the years. I took the glass when it arrived, clinked mine against his, and downed half of it in one go. Trouble, here I come.
“Fuck it!” Ronnie exclaimed. “The second round is on me, too.”
He brought us another round of tequila sunrises. A tiny voice at the back of my mind was telling me to slow down. But the music blaring through the club was telling me to shake something. I could feel the tequila running through my veins, warming me up.
“Let’s dance,” I told Ronnie.
He didn’t say anything, just grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor. For the first time in a long time, I didn’t overthink things. I didn’t care who was watching or what they might say.
I wasn’t worried about a video of me shaking my ass being circulated through social media. I wasn’t concerned with my daughter seeing said video and being upset with me. The only thing I was concerned with was unwinding and letting myself feel alive for a change.
I let the music take over and rolled my hips, swaying in time with Ronnie as he hyped me up, throwing his hands in the air like we were back in college and the night was ours to own.
“Go, best friend. Go, best friend. Go, best friend,” Ronnie chanted as we danced.
I laughed. I couldn’t recall the last time I’d laughed so hard. Well, without India being present. It was hot as hell in the club. But that didn’t stop me from moving. Sweat beaded my skin. A couple of guys approached me to dance.
But as soon as we started dancing, one of their friends approached and dragged them away. In fact, both times, it was the same friend who came and took them away. A big, tall white guy with a bald head.
They must’ve come together or something. I didn’t let that distract me from my fun. I could dance alone and still feel like I was that bitch. Plus, my nemesis was kicking it. The tequila had me feeling right.
I was so glad I checked on India before I left because I had a feeling I was going to be wasted when I made it back to the house. One of my favorite jogging songs came on. The rapper was instructing us to make our ass clap.
I was about to do just that when I felt it, a prickle against my flesh. It was a slow, creeping sensation at the back of my neck, like heat spreading over my skin. Somebody was watching me.
I glanced over my shoulder, searching the crowd. My gaze moved to the lounge area. And there he was. Julian Cattaneo. Seated on one of the black settees. Our eyes connected, and the world seemed to stand still for a brief second.
The music faded into a dull hum in the background. The sound of my heart beating pounded in my ears. It was really him. He was really here. His gaze held me captive. And it seemed my presence held him frozen in place also.
When he finally moved, it was as if he was moving in slow motion. He leaned forward, one elbow on his knee, drink in his hand. His gaze remained on me. And he wasn’t just looking at me. He was drinking me in, devouring me with his wicked eyes.
His gaze slid over me like a physical touch, slow and intense, taking in every inch of my body. I already knew what he saw. My back was to him, and it was bare. And this ass of mine was sitting just right in this dress.
His tongue darted out, dragging across his bottom lip before he took a sip from his glass, never once breaking eye contact. The way he was staring at me made my breath hitch. My thighs pressed together without permission. Ronnie immediately noticed who held my attention.
“Girl,” he whispered in my ear, leaning close. “If that man looks at you any harder, you're gonna get pregnant.”
I laughed, but it was weak. Forced. Because Julian was still watching me. And like a fool, I didn’t look away. If anything, I danced a little slower. Rolled my hips a little deeper. Like I wanted him to keep watching.
What was wrong with me? Maybe it was the alcohol. Damn you, tequila. Maybe it was the fact that I’d spent the evening touching myself and moaning his name in the shower. Or maybe I’d finally lost my damn mind.
But I didn’t stop dancing. And he didn’t stop watching me. The song ordered me to shake my ass again, and I obeyed. Leaning forward just a little and shaking it, feeling it jiggle as it moved from side to side.
Julian set his drink down slowly and stood up. He started forward, stalking across the room with his eyes locked on me. Wait! He was coming to me.
“Oh, shit,” I muttered, facing forward. My gaze rose to Ronnie’s. “I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Liar,” he stated, smiling mischievously.
I started to walk away but Ronnie grabbed my hand, refusing to let me leave.
“What are you doing?” I hissed.
“Being your best friend who loves you dearly.” He leaned in close, his breath warm against my ear. “Remember my prediction? You’re getting laid tonight. And that guy approaching you now is already eye fucking you. Get’em, tiger.”
Before I could roll my eyes or tell him to shut up, I felt a presence behind me. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Julian. The look on Ronnie’s face confirmed it. With a wink, Ronnie released my hand and danced off, abandoning me like the traitor he was.
I tried to follow Ronnie but went completely still when Julian placed his hand on my waist, preventing me from moving away from him. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I watched Ronnie’s retreating form disappear into the crowd.
The heat of Julian’s body behind me made my mouth water. The feel of his hand on my waist had my pulse racing. I had to get away from him. I started forward again. His other hand dropped to my waist, and he pulled me flush up against him until my back was pressed against his front. Oh. My. Gosh . I could feel his cock against my ass. And heaven help me, it was hard. And big.
“Don’t run from it,” he whispered in my ear.
A rush of arousal flamed over me at his words. I felt his lips against my shoulder – the gentlest kiss, but it had my pussy thumping in time to the beat of the music.
“Dance with me,” he whispered.
Julian started moving behind me, keeping perfect time with the music. And against my better judgment, I moved with him, letting his hands guide my body left and right. I told myself this was harmless. Just dancing. Nothing more.
If he wanted to sway, I could sway. If he wanted to grind, I could grind. I wasn’t new to this. Back in the day, the dance floor was my happy place. The DJ switched things up, the tempo slowing down into a song that was made for lovers.
And just like that, we slid right into dangerous territory. His hands slid up and down my sides as we danced. He moved with me, hips rolling, body pressing against my ass, making it impossible not to feel exactly what he was working with.
Big. Hard. Ready.
I should’ve stopped it. I knew better. But the tequila made me brave. Stupid, but brave. So, I kept going. Kept grinding against him, moving my hips to match the rhythm. Tequila was turning me into a damn fool. A fool who was bouncing her ass on Julian’s cock.
His fingers dragged along my waist, a slow, taunting glide that made my stomach clench. His grip tightened as he pulled me closer, the hard length of him pressing against my ass, thick and unmistakable.
My breath caught, but I didn’t stop moving. I couldn’t. The slow roll of my hips over him had my pulse racing, had my thighs clenched against a growing ache that had nothing to do with dancing.
His breath, warm and teasing, ghosted against my neck and shoulder as his lips hovered, not quite touching but oh so close. Teasing. Torturing. This man knew exactly what he was doing to me. He was unraveling me with each move, each exhale, each slide of his hardness against my ass.
His touch stayed light at first, fingertips gliding over my figure, making my skin prickle. But then he got bolder, testing how much I’d let him get away with. His hands smoothed down to my hips, guiding my body, pulling me back against him as he pushed against me.
At this point, we were pretty much hunching on the dance floor, and tequila wasn’t allowing me to give one raggedy fuck. We were no longer moving to the beat of the music. We’d created our own song, our own melody.
The next thing I knew, I was turning in his arms. My gaze rose to his. I swear this man looked too good to be true. He wasn’t trying to hide what he was feeling. I saw the hunger in his eyes. No one had ever stared at me that way before.
I’d been lusted after. That wasn’t anything new. But Julian’s stare was filled with a hunger that was more than lust. I didn’t have the words to describe the look. All I knew was that it made me ache for him, and I was pretty sure he was aching for me.
My hands slid around his neck, and his hands found the small of my back, pulling me in close. The feel of his warm hand against my bare back had my nipples pebbling. I rolled my body against him, wanting him to feel exactly what he was doing to me.
I damn sure felt what I was doing to him. He moved with me, body rolling against me. I had to give it to him; he could dance. I couldn’t help but wonder how much better this would be without our clothes and the crowd.
That was dangerous thinking. But tonight, I was feeling like a dangerous woman. A scandalous woman. And Julian was behaving a bit scandalous himself. His hands slid down my back and roamed over the curve of my ass before gripping it tightly.
I had more than a handful back there, and he seemed to appreciate every bit of it. I gyrated my ass against his hands as he leaned down, resting his forehead against mine as he moved with me.
I was fully aware this was reckless. I was thankful for how dark and crowded the club was because Julian and I were one wrong move away from being the main attraction on the dance floor. And I didn’t care. Not in that moment.
The music, the tequila, his hands, it was all blurring together. Then, his hand slid higher, up my back, slow and firm, his fingers brushing along my bare skin until they were tangled in the curls at the nape of my neck.
He gripped gently, just enough to make my breath hitch. Just enough to let me know there would be no escaping him. Just enough to make me wonder what else he’d like to take control of if I let him. He leaned in, lips near my ear, his voice low and rough.
"What would you say if I asked you to dance like that on my tongue?"
Gush!
I melted. Literally melted like butter in a hot skillet. My knees felt weak, my heart raced. My response was instinctual, primal, a slow grind against him that answered his question better than words ever could.
"Just like that," he murmured, lips grazing my earlobe. "I want you to grind on my tongue just like that. I want you to ride my mouth. Make a mess on my face. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you grind on my tongue just like that?”
It was at that moment that I knew I was fucked... or at least about to be. Because yes, I could definitely do that for him. I could do that and so much more.
Damn you, Tequila.