Twenty-Three #2
Hazel’s mouth curved up. “Yes.”
“Church?” My forehead wrinkled.
Hazel winked at me through the rearview mirror. “Oh, Spence. Stick with us… You’re about to have a fall to your knees otherworldly experience.”
The Church was the antithesis of its name.
Set in an old refurbished church, the ceiling soared far above our heads, the “confession booth” was the name of the huge bar along the side wall. Saints and Sinners were over the nongender toilets.
The music swayed my whole body, my mind twirling around each melody, feeling it rush through my skin and pound in my chest like a drum. The band, The Priests, were on the stage, their haunting, sexy sound tipping my head back and making me feel utterly free. Sexy. Powerful.
“I need water.” Hazel fanned herself, her eyes glazed as she continued to dance to the music as if she couldn’t stop.
I had smoked weed enough in school, but never anything past that. When Eloise placed a white pill on my tongue, I knew what I was getting into.
I was tired of feeling sheltered. Good. Controlled.
For one night, I wanted to act my age, lash out because everything I worked for in school had been flushed down the drain.
Be free to feel angry. Though, I couldn’t seem to muster one ounce of irritation anywhere.
I just felt happy. Warm. The lazy smile on my face aching my cheeks, my figure moving without my say, my arms twining above my head.
I understood I could get really involved in charities, and maybe that would be fine for me down the road.
But tonight it wasn’t.
The three of us danced in the middle of the packed dance floor, the thick, sticky air dripping sweat down my back, soaking through the white dress that probably cost more than most people’s rent here.
My nylons were in the bathroom bin, and my heels had been discarded.
I had no idea when or where I lost them.
I didn’t care.
My bare feet stuck to the wood floor, and the smells of marijuana, alcohol, sweat, and body odor filled the air, but everything felt so right. So good.
“Everyone is so high here; no one cares who we are and wouldn’t recall they saw me five seconds later.” Eloise had told me this when we had come in, the bouncer outside letting us through a side door. “I can always be myself here and have fun.”
“No one’s recognized you?”
“Yeah, but no one actually thinks it’s really me. Most believe I’m a really good lookalike performer.”
“Remember that time that drag queen was dressed like you?” Hazel laughed. “She totally called you a wannabe. It was hilarious.”
“Seriously?” I chuckled.
“Compared to her, I was!” Eloise exclaimed with amusement. “She did me better than me.”
It must be surreal to have people dressing up as you, performing in clubs and events.
The band switched to a slower sultry sound, making my nerves tingle as barely dressed sweaty bodies bumped into me, rubbing sensually against me.
Deep in the back of my brain, I knew I would normally find this extremely uncomfortable and gross.
I hated overcrowded places and being groped by strangers, but right now… ?
It was a-maz-ing.
Swaying my hips, I lifted my hair off my neck, my tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth. “I’m gonna get some water,” I yelled to the girls.
“Tell them to put it on my tab,” Eloise spoke as the guy behind her rubbed his hands down her arms, making her head fall back in bliss.
“Get me one too,” Hazel said between the two guys on either side of her.
Nodding, I pushed through the crowd, heading for the confession booth. My mobile, stuffed in my bra strap, was buzzing frantically again, thumping down into my bones. I had ignored it, but for some reason, I tugged it out, peering down at the name lighting across the screen.
Tosser. Well, that’s what I had him under in my cell.
A smile I couldn’t control spread over my lips, my stomach fluttering up into my chest. My mind and body seemed to have no ties to each other as one screamed to hit the red button, while the other one hit the green.
I pressed it to my ear. “Hello, Tosser.”
“Spencer.” Low. Deep. Vibrating with rage, his voice licked my ear, shuddering down my body, making my breath hitch.
“Did you need something?” The innocence in my words was a little too playful.
“Do. I. Need. Something.” Slow. Husky. It didn’t sound like a question, but a challenge.
Fuckfuckfuckbuggerfuck.
“I need you to…” He paused.
My chest rose up and down, my brain telling me to hang up, but my hand didn’t move from my ear.
“What?” I whispered.
“Turn your head to the left.”
My throat tightened, my heart picking up speed as I bent my neck to the side.
Darkness engulfed the far wall, figures moving against it, snogging, some shagging, but only one was distinct. Like he was the only one in technicolor, while the rest were a hazy black and white.
Blue-hazel eyes glowed from the dark, locking on me like a laser beam.
A tiny gasp escaped my throat.
“Found you.” Husky, Lennox’s timbre poured over me through the phone, swirling my head, chucking out any thoughts that might have stood a chance in my mind.
My feet padded slowly to him, the mobile dropping from my ear, my breath clipped. The countering voice in my head told me to stop, to go back and dance with the girls as my body continued toward him.
“You promised me.” His eyes bore into me, and I felt like the suddenly scratchy material of my white dress stood no chance against him.
“Actually, I never technically promised you anything.” I stepped closer.
He watched me as I approached, his figure tightening when I crossed the line into his personal space, my toes curling over the top of his black shoes, feeling every nick that had been covered by polish.
“You found me.” Every syllable was raspy and throaty. The fabric of his tailored suit rubbed at my bare legs, my fingers reaching out like antennas, craving to touch, needing to know how it felt against my skin. “Now what?”
My hand grazed over his jacket, loving the switch between that and his fitted white dress shirt, the buttons tapping into my palm as I dragged my hand down, tickling, causing me to giggle.
But it died as fast as it came, when my skin soaked in the heat coming through the fabric, the feel of his heart pounding against my hand, the way air clenched the muscles in his stomach when I glided down his torso, fascinated and obsessed with the way he felt, my thighs throbbing with need—an ache craving to be touched.
“Spencer…” He said my name hoarsely, the warning driving through my body with need. I wanted more. Needed it. I pressed in closer, the rest of me jealous of my hands.
“What are you doing?” His fingers wrapped around my wrists, holding me in place, but he didn’t push me away.
“Loosen up.” I tugged his tie, slackening it, my leg dragging down his trousers, the sensation flushing me with shivers. Everyone should feel this good. “You are so uptight and rigid.”
The music and my heartbeat were thumping in my ears, but I could’ve sworn I heard him mutter, “That’s not what’s rigid right now.” But his words fluttered away like everything else in my head. No past, no present, only this exact moment.
“Spencer. Stop.” His grip on my wrists tightened, still not moving me from his frame. His jaw stern, his nose flaring.
Damn, he smelled good. He burned my skin, the sensation heaving me with desire. The feel of his heavy erection pressing into me had dire need pulsing my core, the desperation to feel him thrust into me, to feel his body rub against mine.
A throaty groan crawled up my throat. I wanted to reach that ultimate high, feel the universe implode around me.
You mean actually have an orgasm? A voice sprouted in the back of my head.
I shoved the thought back, not wanting to deflate my blissful joy bubble, ignoring the scratching sense of guilt that I was doing something wrong.
“What are you on?” Lennox drew my attention up to him, his grip on my wrists clutching down, our mouths just a breath apart. “What did you take?”
His questions were dampening my mood. I didn’t care what I took or what happened earlier. I was about now. Feeling. Loving. Enjoying the moment.
“You my father?” I frowned. “Should I call you Daddy?”
“Oh, we’re not gonna go there,” he muttered, each word sounding strained between his teeth.