Within Striking Distance (Beckford U #4)

Chapter 1

Blake

The curtain rustles when my teammate, Everett Mathers, pushes through the thick velvet, revealing a glimpse of Euphoria beyond. My fingers trace the ornate details of my black, white, and gold mask before trailing to my nape, and I swallow the bout of discomfort clogging my throat.

This is not my scene, but it’s his girl’s twenty-first birthday, and she begged him to meet her at the sex club after her friends told her about these masked nights.

He caught me in a weak moment and dragged me along.

As I draw in a deep breath and follow him through the curtains, I already regret my life choices.

I’ve been to strip clubs before, but this is something else.

The place is already packed with people in various states of undress, some engaging in sexual acts in cages right here in the main lounge.

I’m no prude—I’ve seen some dark shit in my twenty-five years—but I draw the line at exhibitionism. It’s just not my thing.

We head straight for the bar, and Everett buys me a beer. He bobs his head to the music as he scans the room, no doubt looking for Emily and her friends, but I keep my eyes fixed on the bar.

“Relax, Dad,” he teases, elbowing me in the stomach. “You’re so fucking uptight.”

I scowl at him. “I’m not your dad, arsehole.”

He laughs. “Seriously, dude, take a chill pill. You look like you’re in the middle of a prostate exam.”

“Shut the fuck up, Mathers.” I shake my head. “Not everyone is comfortable walking into a real-life porno.”

He claps a hand on my shoulder. “No one’s forcing you to lose your virginity tonight. We’re here to celebrate Em’s birthday and check out the club.”

I shove him off me and arch a brow. “Really, dude? You were still in nappies when I was getting laid.”

Being the eldest player on the Beckford U soccer team, I cop a lot of shit from my teammates about being old and boring.

They don’t know I had to grow up fast after a life-changing incident rocked my life when I was fourteen.

My life hasn’t been easy, and because of that, the pressure to keep out of trouble is unrelenting.

With my history, stepping into a sex club feels like a disaster waiting to happen.

“How are you even going to find her?” I ask. “The whole point of the masks is to make it impossible to tell who anyone is.”

He smirks. “She sent me a photo of what she’s wearing.”

I grimace. “Is that why you took so long in the bathroom before we left?”

His laughter is the answer to the question I wish I never asked.

While clothes seem to be optional here, Everett and I aren’t exactly overdressed in our jeans and button-up shirts. There are men in here wearing suits. But most of the women are wearing lingerie.

My hand finds my nape again. I’m about to see more of Everett’s girl and her friends than I bargained for.

“You’re okay with other men seeing her like this?” I ask, waving a hand towards the scantily clad women walking by.

He shrugs, taking a sip of his beer. “I won’t tell her what to do on her birthday.”

“You’re a better man than me.”

Not that I’ve ever had a girlfriend—my past is too fucked up. Don’t get me wrong, I hook up enough to meet my needs, but I’ve never risked letting anyone get close enough to ask questions. Even my teammates don’t know much about my past.

It was a huge decision to move in with Everett when I came back from visiting my sister, Tori, in Sydney after Christmas, but at almost twenty-six, I needed to move out of the Beckford dorms—I can’t handle living in a shared space with so many people.

Everett has his own shit going on with his family that he likes to keep pretty close to his chest, so he doesn’t pry into my private life, and I don’t pry into his. It works for both of us.

“C’mon, man,” Everett says with a groan. “We’ve been living together for three months now, and you haven’t hooked up once. I’m worried about your dick.”

I shoot him an amused look. “Why are you thinking about my dick? Should Kincaid be worried about you in the showers with his boyfriend?”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m plenty happy with Em’s perfect pussy, thank you very much. But is this you telling me I haven’t seen you with any girls because you’re sneaking around with one of our teammates?”

I laugh at the ridiculousness of the conversation.

Everett grins.

“There you go,” he says, punching my arm playfully. “He’s finally loosening up. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“You’re so annoying.” But he’s right, I am relaxing.

Three masked women approach us, wearing nothing but lace underwear, and Everett’s grin widens. He opens his arms for the honey blonde wearing a sparkling, hot pink mask that complements the see-through pink lace corset and G-string. Her outfit does nothing to hide her ample tits and bare mound.

Holy shit.

I swallow a mouthful of beer and avert my eyes from my mate’s girl as my dick gives an involuntary kick in my pants. I’m going to hell. Fuck me, he’s a lucky man.

Emily’s two friends, Claudia and Meg, both offer me seductive smiles as they hover in front of us, wearing similar outfits in purple and yellow. My pulse pounds in my ears as I swallow the last of my beer. It’s suddenly very hot in here.

“How’s it going, Blake?” Claudia asks, reaching up on her stiletto heels to kiss my cheek. “Are you ready for the season opener against Macquarie next week?”

Her question catches me off-guard. It takes me a second to remember Claudia’s dad is Coach Raynor, Beckford U’s assistant coach.

I clear my throat and take a step back, bumping into the bar.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” I mumble. Christ, I’m going to kill Everett for putting me in this situation.

Now whenever I look at Coach Raynor, I’ll picture his half-naked daughter rubbing against me like a cat in heat. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“This place is wild,” Meg says, biting down on her plump bottom lip as she squeezes my bicep.

“Wild,” I repeat, gently removing her hand.

Both girls are standing way too close for comfort, giving me their best come-fuck-me eyes. I’ll kill Everett if he brought me along as a distraction for Em’s friends. Not only am I not interested in either of them, I’m also not into threesomes.

I turn to my housemate, who has his hands on his girl’s tight arse and his tongue down her throat. I feel like I’m intruding on their foreplay when her hands drift down to unbutton his jeans. Surely he’s not going to fuck her at the bar where any arsehole can watch?

I run a hand through my hair. This was such a bad fucking idea.

“I’m gonna bounce,” I say gruffly.

He wrenches his lips away from Emily and frowns. “Come on, man. Live a little.”

“Not my scene. See you at home. Happy birthday, Em,” I say, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. “Enjoy your night.”

I check my watch as I stroll towards the exit—I lasted half an hour—and release a sigh.

Definitely not worth the two-hundred-and-fifty-dollar casual cover charge.

Guilt weighs heavy in my gut. I promised Tori when I moved to Beckford that I’d stay out of trouble and be careful with my inheritance.

I feel like I’ve let her down on both counts tonight.

My eyes are still on my watch when I crash into a woman.

My hands shoot out on instinct to steady the pretty blonde, and for a heartbeat, everything else fades into nothing.

A jolt of lightning hits my chest as wide, crystal green eyes blink at me from behind a white mask with pink and silver glitter accents.

I lose the ability to breathe as I stare at the breathtaking woman in my arms. She’s older than me, maybe in her early thirties, but that only intrigues me more.

I clear my throat, but my words still comes out rough. “Easy there, pixie.”

“Pixie?” she repeats, her voice soft and teasing as she tilts her head. A faint smile tugs at her perfect, pillowy lips, and I’m suddenly desperate to lean in for a taste. “That’s new.”

My lips curl. At six foot three, most women are small compared to my broad frame, and while she’s not short by any means, she’s still shorter than me. “Yeah, well… it fits. You’re tiny, and you look like trouble.”

Her cheeks heat, and my hand tightens on her waist, the silk of her silver slip warming beneath my fingers. It’s modest, covering everything tastefully, but I can’t stop my mind from wandering, thinking about how soft she feels beneath it, and how perfectly her body fits against mine.

Before I can stop myself, I reach up and tuck her shoulder-length waves behind her ear, then trail my finger down her cheek. Her tongue swipes over her lips, and I mirror her as I lean in closer.

“Can I kiss you, pixie?” I murmur, never taking my eyes from hers.

Swallowing, she stares at me for a moment, then nods, and I close the distance between us.

The world stops turning, and I groan at the sensation of her soft lips pressed to mine. She reaches between us to grip my shirt, and I tilt my head, savouring the taste of her as our tongues meet in a tentative brush.

Fireworks explode in my brain.

Unable to hold back, I deepen the kiss, my fingers tangling in her hair.

Blood rushes to my head—both of them—and my cock twitches to life against her stomach.

I’ve never been so turned on by a simple kiss before.

Not that there’s anything simple about this one.

The silk of her tongue dancing against mine sets off every nerve ending in my body.

I’ve blocked out that I’m standing in the middle of a sex club, with people going at it a few feet away, because this woman has altered my brain chemistry. I’ve kissed women before, but no one has made my pulse race like her.

When we finally pull apart, I rest my forehead against hers. “Wow.”

The cutest snort falls from her lips. “You’re adorable.”

My mouth kicks into a smirk. “Thanks.”

She laughs, shaking her head as she steps back, putting some distance between us. “This is crazy.”

The lewd sounds of sex filter through my lusty haze, and I glance around our surroundings, remembering where we are.

“Listen,” I say, turning back to her. “This isn’t really my scene.

I was dragged here by a friend and his girlfriend.

Not like that,” I rush on when her eyes widen.

“I’m not into threesomes, or public sex.

” This is going from bad to worse. “Fuck, I’m stuffing this up.

What I’m trying to say is, I was wondering if you’d maybe let me get you a drink?

No expectations, I’m just not ready to walk away from you. ”

Fuck. My ears heat, and I fight the urge to rub my neck, feeling awkward as hell trying to chat this woman up in the middle of a sex club. But there’s something about her that draws me in.

“Uh…” She glances over her shoulder, and I realise a group of four masked women are watching us, one of them wearing a bride-to-be sash and a plastic tiara, all of them with matching amused expressions.

“Oh.” Shit. I cast them a sheepish grin. “Ladies.”

The bride-to-be laughs and wiggles her fingers at me.

My stomach swoops at the thought of walking away from this beautiful woman, but I guess it’s just not meant to be. It doesn’t feel right to ask for her number when we’re both wearing masks to hide our identities, not to mention you can’t bring phones in here.

Cupping her cheek, I run my thumb over her bottom lip and lean in to murmur, “Thanks for the kiss, pixie. Have a nice night.”

A shiver runs through her, and I press my lips to her sensitive skin before straightening and forcing myself to walk away. I can’t help but glance back as I push through the velvet curtains, only to find her staring after me.

Something tells me she won’t be easy to forget.