Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Stellan
As Margot leads the way past the bouncer and into the loud, crowded club, she looks back at me.
The lights flash, illuminating streaks that splash across her glitter-covered face.
I tug on the dark hooded sweatshirt she made me change into.
She grins, reaching back and pulling my hood up a little further to better hide my distinctive features.
I grab her hand and frown. I lean close to her to make myself heard over the loud music. “Where are we?”
She pins me with her gaze. “Somewhere you won’t be expected to be. Come on.”
Turning, she leads me into the bar area.
The bar top is made of thick plastic and lit up neon green.
It casts a sickly light over all the patrons crowded around, waiting for their turn to order drinks.
Ahead of us, I can see people pushing their way into what I assume is the main dance floor.
The DJ booth is in the far corner; rock music plays so loudly that it reverberates through my bones.
This atmosphere is familiar to me. Grungy, underground, yet exceedingly packed with people. Just like New York, although maybe this club is a little bit cleaner.
A very little bit.
As we line up at the bar to wait for service, I brushes up against her. I leans down to her ear.
“Have you been here before?” I ask.
She shakes her head, looking up at me with a crooked smile. “Nope.”
“And why are we here again?”
“The same reason you are concealing your identity. This is a neutral place. Your money doesn’t mean anything here.” She smirks.
I frown and open my mouth to respond, but she just turns away. The scruffy bartender comes over and she leans close to his ear, ordering drinks. He plops two beers on the counter and she pays for them.
She turns to me, plastic cups in each hand. “Here.”
She hands me my beer and then heads away from the bar, elbowing her way through the crowd as she moves toward the main room.
I take a sip of my beer and find it stale but cold.
Shaking my head, I follow her as she weaves through the young, hip crowd.
There are actually several people in this room with unnatural hair colors, but she’s the only one with her unique frothy pink color.
Against her pale skin and dark little dress, it really pops.
When she finds a place that calls to her, she turns with a grin. She takes a long swig from her red solo cup, throwing up her free hand and swaying along to the insistent beat.
I take a long pull of my beer and shuffle my feet around, hoping she doesn’t realize how much I feel like a fish out of water just now. She grins and grabs a fistful of my hooded sweatshirt, pulling me toward her.
I slide my free hand around the small of her back, touching my hips to hers. She bites her lip and sways against me, her eyes meeting mine. I see a teasing sort of amusement reflected there.
The song changes tempos, slowing down just a bit. I give her a smirk and lean down close to her ear.
“You are playing with fire,” I tell her.
“Who, me?” she says, sliding her arms around my neck. “I don’t know what you mean. Usually I’m so cautious.”
I shake my head a little, smiling down at her. “You are dangerous.”
All the while our bodies move together, almost grinding against each other, but not quite. Her small hips fit neatly against mine; my big hands splay out over her lower back. Our bellies press together but I’m hardly aware of that.
No, I’m sucked into her dark blue eyes, full of mischief and daring. We dance like that for another half a minute, then the DJ changes out music again, something faster this time.
Margot puts some space between us and rocks out, her hands going up, her movements rhythmic. Her eyes are closed, her pink hair glowing under the low light, the neckline of her dress dipping low to show off a scant quarter inch of her bright pink bra.
After another few songs, I’m staring at her like I’m a man dying of thirst and she’s the only refreshing sip of water left in my canteen.
I’ll admit it; I’m starting to be obsessed with the way that she shakes her hips, the way that her chest rises when she breathes, the plump bow of her lips in relation to her heart shaped face.
She slows down, jerking her head to the bar.
“I need another beer. Wanna come with?”
My lips lift. “Sure.”
When she turns and walks away, I follow. I’m staring at her perfect ass and amazing legs as long as I can before it disappears behind other people who cross between us. Margot glances back at me, giving me a knowing smile.
God damn.
I find myself walking a little faster to catch up with her. She queues up, trying to pull out her wallet again. I make a face at her.
“Put your fucking wallet away,” I grit out.
She wrinkles her nose. “I’m just trying to be egalitarian about getting us beers.”
I lean in close, pushing the hood of my sweatshirt down off my head. “I’m the fucking crown prince of Denmark. The idea of you trying to get even with me by buying me beers is laughable.”
Margot shrugs, rolling her eyes, but there is still a trace of a smile on her lips. “Whatever makes you happy, your highness.”
A blonde girl in front of us overhears a little of our conversation. Turning her head, she checks out Margot, who absolutely looks like she belongs here in this club. When the blonde looks at me, her eyebrows go up. She does a double take, squinting, trying to place me.
Shit.
I turn away, raising my hood. The last thing I need tonight is getting spotted here, and with Margot to boot. Luckily, a few seconds later the bartender comes and asks for our orders. After we grab more beers, we head to an ill-lit corner away from the blaringly loud music.
There aren’t any tables here as such. It’s just a single long red leather booth that contours to the walls, worn and torn and covered in graffiti. Margot plops herself down on the seat beside a few young guys that look at her with wide eyes.
They probably think that their dream girl just came over to make their whole lives a little better. Shooting them a quelling glare, I find a seat beside her and stretch out my long legs.
Margot sizes me up, one corner of her mouth kicking up. She looks almost impish, sitting there so petite and so clearly amused.
“What?” I ask, sipping my beer.
She shrugs, smiling as she tastes her beer. “For an obscenely rich person, you’re pretty okay, I guess.”
I sputter, spitting some foam back inside my red solo cup. She grins at my reaction, wiggling her eyebrows.
“So you’re saying I’m not horrible?” I laugh, wiping foam from my nose.
“I’m saying that you have your moments,” she says, rolling her eyes. “You also have moments where you act like a rich spoiled brat.”
“What? No way, I’m a lot more grounded than you think. I mean, considering my unique set of circumstances, the fact that I can hang out here is like… amazing.”
She cocks a brow. “I admire you less for it because we’re talking about it. Like I just lost maybe… five percent of the esteem that you gained in my eyes.”
I chuckle. “That’s good to know.” I tilt my head to the side. “So not terrible and handsome. Is that all you think about me?”
She turns bright pink. “Who said I think you’re handsome?”
Squinting at her, I set my beer by my feet. “Unless you’ve changed drastically since New York City, I would say that you did. It was implied when we fucked.”
Margot shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “We didn’t fuck. We did… other stuff.”
I bite my lip, unprepared for the influx of mental images that spring to mind.
Margot giving me the naughtiest look as she drops to her knees. The way her hair felt against my fingers as she took me in her mouth. The way I spread her wide open and tongued her clit, over and over, soaking up every rich drop of pleasure that I could wring from her flesh.
I’m already hard for her. Leaning over, I brush her gossamer hair back. Then I lean in close so that my lips almost touch her ear.
“What, oral sex isn’t fucking now?” I grate out.
She sips her beer coolly and glances away, but I can see her blush. “I stand behind my statement.”
The second I lift up my hand to touch her, a static electricity starts to build in the air. Sliding my hand around to cup her jaw, I turn her to face me. I use my thumb to angle her head just so.
Margot looks back at me, her deep blue eyes pinning me in place. God, I could just look at her like this, in this moment, forever.
But her gaze slides down to my mouth. She sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, pink clashing with the white or her teeth. My ring finger slips over the pulse point in her neck.
Her heart races. I lean in, brushing my lips over hers. Her pulse jumps and she lifts her hand to my hoodie, fisting it tightly in her grip. I start to pull back, but she follows me, ghosting another kiss over my lips.
I growl into her mouth, my hands shifting Margot half out of her seat.
She surges forward and I’m ready for her, kissing her.
I slide my hand down between her legs, making her gasp.
Then I fucking feast on her, dominating the exchange, groaning as I sweep the inside of her sweet fucking mouth with my tongue.
I groan. She tastes like stale beer laid over something indescribably delicate and sweet. Margot nips at my bottom lip when I give her the chance. I growl again, picturing exactly how she will look naked and writhing against my pillows.
God damn, she is so fucking hot.
But then she pulls back, breathing hard, her eyes darting back and forth across my face. “Stellan…” she whispers, biting her lip. “This? You and me? It’s not a good idea.”
I give my head a shake and try to kiss her again, but she shoves me off. “I said no. I know that’s not something you’re used to…”
“You want me,” I say, trying to keep the accusations from my voice. I splay one big hand across her heart and pin her with my gaze. “I know you do. I can feel your heart race every time I fucking touch you.”
Margot rises to her feet, surveying me as smoothly as any queen would look at a peasant groveling at her feet. “I think I’m going to go dance.”
She picks up her beer from the floor and then walks off without so much as another word. I’m left sitting in the uncomfortable bench and scowling to myself.
Margot is being a total dick about this. She’s probably right about it being a bad idea, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.
As I lurch upward, heading after her, I catch the sneers that the young guys next to me are sending my way. I lean over, purposely using my height and sheer size.
“Fuck off,” I growl.
Then I grab my beer and stomp off after Margot, my brain still doing cartwheels, trying to figure out what just happened between us.