Chapter 24 #3
Vixey is honestly a lot of fun, and I feel like a total brat for not accepting her into our group sooner. But I also feel like I’m just a moody bitch who happens to be having a good time tonight. Tomorrow, I might wake up and regret it when I find her still in my house.
Dove’s phone lights up with an incoming call. “Oh, my sweet songbird. He knows we’re in a club. I’ll be right back—I’m gonna find a quieter place to take this.”
I have no idea where she plans to do that. She’ll have to go outside if she hopes to hear him over the music. We practically have to yell at each other as it is.
As she leaves, a flash of green catches my eye, and I turn to see Vixey approaching from the other side of the room.
She only makes it a few feet from the bathroom before she trips, and I suppress a groan when she falls face-first into the crotch of a man sitting in a plush armchair with a group of guys.
A friend would rush over and rescue her. However, from where I’m sitting, it looks like that might embarrass her more. The only thing worse than head-butting a man’s dick is the position Vixey finds herself in—with her ass in the air and her hair caught in either the belt or zipper of his pants.
Vixey’s hair is teased and fluffed to high heaven. It’s that sexy-waves style where it almost looks like it hasn’t been washed in days and stands up on its own, so I imagine when it caught on her way down, it tangled pretty badly.
Her short dress is nearly flashing the rest of the room her underwear, but if she’s embarrassed, it doesn’t show. She brackets his legs with her arms, trying to push up, only to yelp and lower herself again.
Sitting back against the leather, I sip my soda water, entertained by the soft-core porn show they’re putting on. Whoever the men are with him, they’re wolves dressed in sharp suits, chuckling into their whiskey as they watch the scene unfold.
The man cups her chin and says something that makes Vixey stiffen, eyes wide. He goes to work untangling her strands, his mouth moving with words that hold her in a trance. Once she’s freed, he grips her chin again, and this time I squint to read his lips.
Good girl.
Well, hot damn. Get it, Vixey. He’s gorgeous.
For a moment I feel bad for having the thoughts, knowing Alex likes her. But if the way Vixey is staring at this man is any indication of the type she prefers, poor Alex never stood a chance.
She climbs to her feet slowly, using his thighs for leverage.
Their locked gazes don’t waver as she rises to her full height, then she’s the one towering over him since he remains seated.
The lights pulse with the music, oscillating between casting them in shadow and highlighting their frames as he stands, buttoning his suit jacket while he speaks to her.
Just when I think we might lose her for the night, she turns abruptly and heads back to the booth.
A few steps away, her honeyed eyes snap up to mine. “Did you see that?”
“Oh, I sure did.” I keep sipping my soda water. “What are you doing back over here? That man looks like he wants to eat you alive.”
“It’s girls’ night.” She sounds so young and innocent as she says it, almost pouty, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to get rid of you. Just saying—I’d understand. He’s hot.” My gaze tracks across the room. The man is still standing, watching Vixey with a determination I often see in Hunter’s face when he looks at me. “How’s your scalp? That looked like it hurt.”
Her hand drifts up to rub the spot absentmindedly. “I’m pretty sure I lost a chunk of hair.”
“But maybe gained a phone number?” I push, because I’m invested now. The guy still hasn’t taken his eyes off her.
“What? No!” She slides into the booth just as Dove reappears.
“Did he or did he not call you a good girl?” I press.
Dove’s head snaps up from her phone, ping-ponging between us. “What did I miss? Who called her a good girl?”
Vixey groans. “It’s nothing.”
“She fell into that guy’s lap over there.” I nod across the room, but he’s finally sat back down, attention elsewhere. “Got her hair caught in his zipper.”
“It was his belt,” Vixey grumbles, slouching over her drink. “So fucking embarrassing.”
“You really are so clumsy.” Dove cocks her head, studying his side profile. “But hey, if it works. He’s hot.”
“That’s what I said!”
“Girls’. Night.” Vixey stresses. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to invite me to do something? I’m not ruining it by running off with a guy I don’t know.”
“We’re just saying…” I start.
“That we’d completely understand,” Dove finishes.
“Besides. Don’t knock the rushed, have to take you in a bathroom because I need you now sex. One of the best orgasms I’ve ever had.”
“There’s something about public places. Wrenley and I did it in a storm once, next to a body.” Dove tosses back her remaining shot.
Panic surges as Vixey stiffens and swings her head toward Dove, grotesque confusion twisting her tone as she repeats, “A body?”
My best friend coughs and pounds her chest. “Of water. A body of water. We were on the beach. You know, a public place.” She laughs nervously as I refrain from slapping my forehead.
Her answer seems to mollify Vixey, who only pauses a moment before sliding back out of the booth. “Let’s dance!”
Dove and I share a look as we follow, both of us whispering, “Worst serial killers ever.”