I spot an awkward guy in the fold, bouncing on his feet and utterly alone. I’ll put him out of his misery.
I beeline for him, not giving a fuck if he has a girlfriend in the bathroom or a boyfriend at the bar. I drape my arms over his shoulders and allow the music to run through my veins like a second heartbeat. We’re chest to chest, our hips rubbing together in an erotic dry hump.
In a flash, I spin around and push my ass against his cock. I dip low, losing myself in the thrum of the bass. Mystery man’s hands find my waist, teasing the skin exposed from the cutouts of my dress.
He has man hands; rough, calloused. I’m sure they’d know what they were doing if I were writhing beneath him in bed. Or against a bathroom wall.
I turn once more, ready to take this man’s mouth with my own when a pair of eyes catch mine at the bar. Hazel orbs are fixated on me, watching my every move. If he wants a show, I’ll give him one.
I may be grinding on one man’s cock, but the guy at the bar has my full attention. His expression gives nothing away. His stare is cool steel and his mouth is unassuming. The sexy man takes a swig of amber liquid and I’m mesmerized watching his Adam’s apple bob.
The song ends and though it leads seamlessly into another, I step away without a second glance to the man I was just dry humping. He calls to me, “Hey, wait!” but I keep going. He’ll forget about me soon enough.
I take a seat at the bar directly beside Hazel Eyes, but I don’t look at him. I won’t make the first move. He will.
I wave off the bartender when she comes over and I recognize her. Her name’s Skye and I’m sure she’d give me a drink for free considering I’ve fucked her, but I don’t push it. I have eyes for someone else tonight.
He lifts his drink and the motion causes his scent to waft over to me. It’s a woodsy, handsome smell. He emanates sex and money: my two favorite things.
“Tell me your name.” Direct. I like it. His voice drapes over me like expensive silk sheets. It’s gravelly, erotic. If a voice was capable of dripping knowledge and power, his timbre would do it.
“Flynn.” I shift on my stool and my already short dress scoots higher on my thigh. I don’t adjust it.
“That’s unique.”
“So am I.” My future fuck is tall, dark, and handsome as hell. I’d fuck him even if his every pore didn’t ooze money; the fact that he does is merely a bonus.
“I’m Liam.” He has to be in his late twenties at least, maybe more. His body is hard and toned; he likely spends hours in the gym.
“Liam.” His eyes dilate as his name rolls off my tongue like hot fudge pouring over a sundae. There’s no other outward display of his desire for me, but I know it’s there.
His white button up is rolled to his elbows, displaying a shiny silver Rolex on his left wrist. The veins in his forearms pop with the slight effort of lifting his glass to his lips.
“Care to buy me a drink, Liam?” I lean over to touch his leg, giving him a fantastic view down my dress.
“Nah, I think you should be sober if you plan to come home with me tonight.” I smirk and the space between my thighs floods with heat.
Most women would play coy, but I know what and more importantly who I want.
I take the drink out of his hand, careful not to graze his skin. Delayed gratification and all that. I swallow the rest of his drink and hop off the stool.
“Ready to go?” His gentle laugh warms me from the inside out more than the liquor did.
I text my friends I’m leaving right as Damon struts up beside me.
“I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” His gaze is on my tits which works in my favor since that way he doesn’t see my eye roll.
“I was just leaving.” The man behind me finally gets off his stool and invades my space. His shirt brushes against my back and the temptation to lean back into him is strong. My idiot ex, however, can’t read the fucking room.
“Dude, back up a little, give her some space.” The ex who can’t stay away places a hand around my elbow and tugs. “Flynn, let’s go.” Both his words and his actions cause me to see red.
I yank my arm out of his grasp and nearly hit Liam’s torso with the force. It’s then I notice how tall my future one night stand is. In my five inch heels, I’m eye to eye with Damon, reaching a solid six feet. Liam, however, has a few inches on me, which is a major bonus.
“As the lady said, we are leaving.” Liam’s hand finds my lower back and the connection is electric. The initial touch feels almost as if the room is full of static and he shocked me. If his hand holds this much power over my clothes, what will his dick feel like inside me?
“Flynn,” Damon lowers his head to whisper in my ear, “are you sure about this? You don’t even know this guy.”
Sure, maybe Liam is a serial killer and I’ll end up on a late night 20/20 special, but my middle name should’ve been reckless and if the last thing I do is fuck this man, so be it. His fingertips are jolting and I refuse to miss out on his
