Chapter 8 - Avery
“Stay,” he commanded as he got out of the car.
“Sir—” the chauffeur started, his door also open, but even he knew it was hopeless to argue with Rowen when he had his mind set on something. So, he shut his door and sighed, giving me a playful wink in the rearview mirror.
I sat impatiently as he rounded the car and opened my door. His hand stretched out, demanding mine, and he helped me to the sidewalk.
“Thanks, Bernard,” Rowen said before shutting the door.
His hand settled on my lower back as he guided me toward the club, where a huge line of people stood along the building, waiting to get in. We didn’t go to the end of the line. Rowen led us to the front, where a large, muscular bouncer stood, looking terrifying.
“Hey,” he greeted my stepbrother with a smile. “Head on inside.”
“Thanks, Mike,” Rowen replied.
I didn’t have time to express my gratitude, since Rowen whisked me inside so quickly, a blast of cool air blew my hair off my shoulders. His touch disappeared as he shook the hand of someone just inside.
“Wow,” I whispered, my breath caught in my throat.
My chest was flooded with the beat of the deep bass. The lighting was low, but deep reds and soft whites washed over the room in waves.
There was a giant crystal chandelier above the central floor—a sunken dance floor. Every time the lights hit it, glittering stars painted the ceiling.
Booths made of dark wood and lined with leather bordered the outer edge. They all had high backs, keeping their occupants private.
A second floor, lined with a glass railing, revealed more space, though it seemed like a different atmosphere up there—elevated, more exclusive.
People wearing silk dresses and fancy suits filled the large room, gliding through the space with a sense of ease, as if they belonged. Just under the music, there was the hum of talking and laughter as they clinked their glasses.
The room even smelled expensive, like pricey perfume and exotic flowers.
I tugged at my dress.
What am I even doing here?
His firm, comforting hand found the small of my back just in time to stop me from running out.
He leaned in, his breath tickling my ear. “Breathe.”
One word, but it was all I needed to quiet my nerves.
He pulled me to his side, his body heat relaxing mine. Then, we were moving, and while I looked around nervously, feeling like everyone’s eyes were on me, judging me, he walked like he owned the damn place. People moved out of his way, watching as we passed, like they were mesmerized by him.
And I understood the feeling.
Rowen led me past a bar, where several people were watching the bartender make their drinks, and into a short hall that led to a staircase.
We were going up?
I followed, ascending the steps until we reached the second floor, where only a few people mingled, gazing out at the groups below. There were several rooms with dark red curtains covering them. Rowen pulled one open and ushered me inside.
It was a private booth with low lighting and a small, lowered table in the middle.
A server wearing all black appeared soon after we sat on the curved bench, my stepbrother’s arm settling around me, music filling the silence just enough to make the space more intimate.
“Welcome back, Mr. Thompson,” he greeted. “Your usual?”
Rowen shook his head. “We’ll take a bottle of something expensive, Kevin. Light and fruity. I want to spoil my date.”
I couldn’t help but stare at him, looking ridiculously hot, oozing confidence, like he knew people held their breaths around him, that he left them in awe.
As close to seven as we were, it had only taken him a few minutes to get ready.
But it had been more than enough.
He hadn’t shaved his five o’clock shadow or styled his hair, but the ‘I don’t give a fuck’ effort was perfect for him.
He didn’t own a single suit, so I’d picked out a pair of dark washed jeans that hugged his thighs, a dark gray dress shirt that stretched a little over his broad chest, and his damn leather jacket.
That jacket.
He didn’t just look good. He looked delicious, dangerous even, and every woman in the room would notice.
It made me want to cling to him, but we were alone here, and I was afraid he wouldn’t understand the fear of losing him to someone better than me, more fitting for him.
“Right away,” Kevin said before slipping out.
Rowen turned, catching me staring at him. My lungs suddenly forgot how to work, but I held his eye contact. My heart was thumping so loudly, I was surprised he couldn’t hear it. I wanted to kiss him, show him just how badly I wanted him.
His mouth lifted in a small smirk, as though he could hear my thoughts.
“You’ve been quiet.” He brushed some hair behind my ear, making me shiver.
“Just thinking,” I responded quietly, my eyes dropping to see his tongue flirt with his bottom lip.
He shifted closer, and his hand landed on my thigh, lighting my nerves on fire. His fingers crawled their way under my dress, getting close but never touching where I wanted him most.
“Thinking about what?” he asked curiously, observing my every movement with intent.
I swallowed. “You.”
His fingers grazed over my bare pussy, and I gasped. That was when he dove for my mouth, his tongue leading the charge, filling my mouth, reminding me how he made sin taste like a fucking dessert bar.
I thought he was going to push for more, maybe finger bang me in the booth, but we were interrupted by a throat clearing. Kevin stood between the drapes, eyes down, holding an ice bucket and two glasses.
“Shall I pour your drinks?” he asked Rowen.
My stepbrother didn’t even look in his direction as he said, “That would be great.”
We were millimeters away from each other, his hand between my thighs, thumb tracing my skin, our breaths mingling, eyes locked.
“So, what are you thinking?” Rowen asked when the server left.
“That you look hot,” I admitted, watching his face darken at my boldness. “And it’s driving me crazy to be out here. I want to go home,” I kept going. “We can go out tomorrow night.”
He chuckled, his eyes mocking me. Then, his hand was grabbing my chin, forcing me to look toward the curtains so he could pepper my jaw with soft, punishing kisses.
“You did this to yourself, kitten,” he growled low in my ear.
“You begged for this, dressed me up, and now you want me to take you back home already?” He tugged my earlobe between his teeth, biting hard enough to make me hiss.
“We will stay here until I decide I’m ready to go home and fuck your tight, needy pussy until you pass out. ”
His hand returned to my thigh as the one over my shoulder gripped the hair at the nape of my neck. He angled my head to give him access to my throat, sucking hard enough to leave a mark while his fingers dug into the soft skin of my thighs.
“Rowen,” I moaned, my hips moving against nothing.
When he pulled away, he was smiling, like he’d won a game I wasn’t aware we were playing.
And that was fine with me, because I wasn’t even thinking about the people just outside our booth, dancing to the music under the lights.
I was too focused on him.