18. Meghan #2
Just as I’m about to wave up at him, a smile forming on my lips, a woman who looks like a damn supermodel approaches him.
Her hands roam over his arm and shoulder, yet he makes no move to get her off of him.
He should be pushing her away . She leans in to whisper something in his ear and when I think he’s finally going to tell her to go away, he breaks eye contact with me, places his arm around her waist, and leans in to listen to whatever it is she has to say.
My stomach clenches with a feeling I’m not quite ready to acknowledge—it’s a cross between hurt, jealousy, anger, and embarrassment at his blatant disregard for the rules we agreed to.
I suppose it’s better that I’ve seen this now, before I’d been fucking him for a while. Before I’ve fallen for him . It certainly didn’t take him long to get tired of me.
Shaking my head, if only to get rid of the image, I continue following Alex toward the table. Did I seriously think that a man like Cooper Jackson would want me ?
Before I know it, we reach the booth that Alfie and two other guys I don’t recognize are sitting in. I’m guessing the others are either doing their own thing or decided not to come.
I wish I was anywhere else but here at this moment .
“Meghan. You look amazing,” Alfie exclaims as he stands from the booth, slurring slightly.
His hand rests on my hip as he leans in to kiss me on the cheek.
I don’t bother to push him away, too stunned by what I’ve just witnessed.
I vaguely register that he smells good and the voice in my head that is telling me I need to be open for something with someone else, especially after what I just saw with Cooper.
My jaw clenches in anger and I down the remnants of my drink as I reply to Alfie.
“Thank you. You look good too, Alfie,” I reply, kissing him back on the cheek.
Alfie greets Alex in the same manner before taking his seat and I’m grateful that he doesn’t seem to have the wrong idea about me, even though his eyes haven’t left me the whole time. Alex and I take our seats on the ends of the booth sitting opposite each other.
“This is Wesley.” Alfie points to a beautiful man with short ash blond hair, plump lips, mysterious brown eyes, a nose that looks like it may have been broken at some point and a sharp jawline dusted with a hint of five o’clock stubble.
There are sleeve tattoos on his arms and one of a rose on his hand.
From across the table, he smiles at me, his gaze intense, causing me to wave back shyly.
“...and this is Charlie.” Alfie points to another gorgeous man.
Does Alfie only hang out with models?
Charlie has a shaved head, dark features, and the most striking blue eyes with long thick lashes any girl would be envious of. Charlie tips his chin in greeting and throws Alex a wink, causing her to blush.
Interesting .
“It’s nice to meet you both,” Alex and I shout in unison over the music, giggling at our synchronization.
I think the drinks have started to go to my head .
“Come on, let’s go dance,” Alex demands.
Not being one to deny Alex anything, I stand and sway my hips to the beat of the music.
Do It To It by ACRAZE and Cherish comes on, so I grab Alex’s hand as I shimmy my hips and she leads the way to the dance floor.
We’re followed by the guys and one look behind me sees them all staring at each other, whispering conspiratorially.
We start with Alex and I dancing together, while the guys create a semicircle around us, blocking out the other nightclubbers. It isn’t long before Alfie’s hand is resting on my hip as I grind into his crotch with Wesley dancing in front of me, his hand on my other hip and his leg between mine.
If I hadn’t had so many drinks, I wouldn’t have dreamed of doing this but I’m feeling in a fuck it mood.
A fuck Cooper mood. Alex is dancing with Charlie, making very extreme eye contact as they gyrate to the music.
We stay like this for the next few songs, grinding on each other on the crowded dance floor; the bodies around us forcing us closer and closer together.
“I’m going to get a drink,” I shout over my shoulder to Alfie.
“Want me to come with you?” he asks, and I shake my head in response.
I need a break .
Wesley steps back as Alfie’s hand drops from my waist. I break away and make my way through the throng of people to the bar.
I’m leaning over, trying to catch the eye of the bartender when I feel a warm body press against the back of me. I can smell his signature scent and as two muscular forearms come around either side of me to cage me in, I don’t panic.
I know who it is and had I not seen what I saw, I would have been excited that he found me. I would have leant back into his solid embrace and begged him to take me home. Instead, he’s about to ruin my night and just the thought has me blowing out an exasperated breath.
“What are you doing, Meghan?” Cooper demands, his voice gruff as his hot breath skates across the shell of my ear.
I close my eyes at the feeling he elicits in me and the shiver that skates down my spine. I can’t help my physical reactions. A hot pool of desire sweeps through my body and I barely resist the urge to turn around and claim him as mine in the middle of the crowded club, not giving a damn who sees.
“Getting a drink… or trying to,” I reply with as much innocence as I can inject into my voice as I lean even further onto the bar, my ass pushing out into his crotch.
Trying to be nonchalant around him is getting harder and harder every day.
He growls in response… literally . If I were wearing panties, they would be soaked through. I love it when he makes that sound. It usually happens when he’s buried deep inside me though.
Closing my eyes, I try to find some form of self control. My resolve is truly being tested right now as I fight with all my might to not moan and press even further into my hardness.
I’m pissed at him. Don’t forget what you saw him doing .
“That isn’t what I’m talking about, and you know it. Why are you dancing like that with those guys?”
Is he jealous? Surely not, that’s a laughable idea and I can’t contain the laugh that erupts from my lips.
Turning around in the cage of his arms so that I can attempt to get a read on him, especially when I confront him over what I’ve seen, I fold my arms over my chest. He doesn’t get to act all possessive over me when he had some woman touching him and whispering sweet nothings in his ear.
He isn’t yours .
But I want him to be. Tears well in my eyes, and I look down at my shoes while I compose myself. I want to stamp my foot in frustration because how dare he make me feel like this.
It’s like a damn roller coaster of emotions and I hate roller coasters.
“I could’ve asked you the same thing, but seeing as you’re my boss and I’m not at work right now… I don’t think you have any say in what I do or do not get up to outside of the office.”
His eyes go stormy with my declaration, but I don’t care at this precise moment. I’m turning back toward the bar, my focus back on getting drunk,when he takes hold of my arm and proceeds to drag me across the club.
He’s heading to the same dark and secluded corridor that started all of this mess. I try desperately to yank my arm out of his grasp because I’m not going anywhere with him, especially there. He lost the chance for sex in public places when he let another woman put her hands on what’s mine.
As I’m being dragged across the club, I come to the conclusion that when we made our agreement he was clearly saying what he needed to in order to get what he wanted.
He didn’t know I was going to be here tonight and so he probably thought he would get away with his plan to fuck around and have me waiting around for whenever he fancied something different.
“Cooper, stop it,” I shout over the music.
I don’t want to go with him .
I don’t want him to touch me.
I want to cry because he’s hurt my heart .
He stops in the middle of the club, whirling around to answer me.
“Now it’s Cooper?” he growls before laughing in my face, shaking his head.
Personally, I don’t see what’s funny at all .
“I thought I was Mr. Jackson to you?” He doesn’t give me a chance to respond before he’s turned back around and continues marching toward the corridor, the tension in his body clear for everyone to see.
“Let go of me. I’m going home,” I practically scream as I try once again to get my arm free of his grip.
“I’ll take you home,” he shouts back, but only to be heard over the pounding bass.
“I don’t want you to take me home. I’m going to go with my friends.”
He comes to a stop and I crash into his back before he turns to face me once again.
He’s deathly quiet. “You either go home alone or you come home with me. Rule number two, Meghan.”
As if he’s just tried to throw a rule at me. How dare he?
“Don’t tell me what the rules are… were, Cooper. You had another woman all over you,” I shout back at him.
He doesn’t move or say a word, he just looks into my eyes as if he’s seeing into my soul.
“Then I chose to go home… alone,” I affirm.
Our bodies are pressed together and it would take minimal effort for me to lean forward and press my lips to his. No, Meghan, no kissing .
I should be scared, or more annoyed, but if anything I’m turned on by his take-control attitude and what I’ve now identified as jealousy rolling off of him. He changes direction, heading toward the entrance, his grip still firm on my arm, but I’m no longer trying to tug free.
We stop at the coat check and he helps me into my coat, ever the gentleman. Taking my hand this time, he intertwines his fingers with mine as he leads me out of the club.
Opening the door of a black car stopped at the curb, he nods for me to get in. I stare up at him. A part of me wants to turn around, go back into the club and enjoy my night. But something in his gaze has me moving into the back seat without argument.
I’m just going home. To my home.
I will not sleep with him , I chant.