“Come with me?” Blondie asked coyly, her hand slipping into mine.
I hesitated, and then nodded. “Sure, just give me a sec.” I waded through the crowd toward the bathroom. I needed to be alone. The panic attacks didn’t come often, and my usual way of treating them was with more alcohol. Pushing though the heavy bathroom door, I staggered up to the sinks.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror. I’d dyed my long auburn hair a dirty blonde after the rape. Coop had loved my hair—that’s why it had to go. Seeing it reminded me of how in love with him I still was.
Maybe I should’ve gone black. It would have suited my mood, and royally pissed Ivan off. Or better yet, I could shave it all off. I sniggered at the thought.
My green eyes stared back at me, void of emotion, almost dead. I rifled through my clutch for my mascara and brushed a thin layer over my lashes. Reaching for my phone, I saw a message from Coop. I sighed
as I opened and read it.
Will you please fucking answer my messages? I’m worried about you. I’m sorry that I didn’t answer your call before, but I’m here for you now, Beth. I don’t want to lose you. Please, just let me know you’re okay. Wherever you are, I’ll come get you, and take you back home.
He’s worried about me? I snorted. Fuck you, Coop. And how the hell did he know I wasn’t at home? Was he following me now? Anger boiled up inside me as I slammed my fist down on the white marble surface.
Ignoring the pain shooting through my wrist, I shut off the phone and shoved it back in my purse, trying to pretend his words hadn’t affected me. But they had. They always did. I felt the tears welling up, but I tossed back those emotions. I refused to cry. I needed to feel nothing, because the moment I opened that door and let myself grieve, I wasn’t sure how I would go on.
The last time we’d spoken had been almost two months ago now, and since then, every day he’d sent a message or tried to call. But I just couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t be his friend. Not right now. Why the hell hadn’t he gotten the message?
***
I splashed water on my face, the cold snapping me back to the present. Taking a deep breath, I ran a sheet of paper towel over my cheeks and walked back into the club, moving through the masses of bodies back to Blondie.
The Marz Bar was where you hung out to be seen. Full of stars and wannabes, it was a place that would definitely get you noticed. This place crawled with paparazzi just waiting for the shot that would push them into the big league. Not surprisingly, I had a trail of them following the blonde and me as she led me into the VIP area at the back of the club.
Two tall and muscly security men stood guarding the entrance. Both wore a menacing expression, which made me confident that there was no chance of anyone who shouldn’t be here sneaking through. I eyed the men as Blondie led me past them. The giant bear on the right gave me a sly grin, so I dropped my gaze to his crotch and licked my lips. He shuffled uncomfortably, which made me giggle. Men were so damn easy.
What exactly was I doing? No idea. I was more than slightly sloshed, and a little bit horny. As I said, women usually weren’t my thing, but the way Blondie’s tight, black dress was riding up her perky little ass was making me frisky. Alcohol gave me a glimpse of the old Beth. I can’t explain the relief, knowing she was still in there . . . somewhere.
Inside the VIP area, Blondie pushed me up against the wall, her hands cupping my breasts as she began to lick my neck.
“You feel like a little fun?” she muttered, her lips working their way down beneath the thin fabric of my low-cut dress. I smiled, moaning in response. She led me down the hall and into an empty room. My eyes darted from the leather sofa that lay against the back wall to the private bar in the corner and back to Blondie, who was grinding herself against me.
I didn’t see him at first. I was too busy trying to tug that damn dress off her.
My first realization that we weren’t alone was when I felt him—behind me. His hands ran over the curves of my hips. I jumped back, my body pressing into his. I should’ve been scared—hell, this whole situation should have terrified me—but there was something calming about his presence and the way he was touching me. I stepped back further, the alcohol driving my confidence as I began to grind my hips into his crotch.
“You did well, Scarlett. Very well,” he murmured in my ear as he hardened against my ass. His voice was deep and smooth like the finest chocolate. The blonde began to smile, enjoying the praise. She lifted her dress over her shoulders and let it fall to the floor, then undid her bra, her rounded breasts bouncing out of containment. I eyed her, my mouth drying up as a familiar feeling stirred in my stomach. I know I said I wasn’t into chicks, but God help me, if I were . . .
Slowly, he turned me around. This whole experience was beginning to get very hot very fast, and was exactly what I needed. I’d come here tonight looking for something, and I was convinced this was it.
His arm slipped around my waist as I looked up into the deepest pair of brown eyes I’d ever seen. They almost looked as though they were melting. Or maybe I was melting into him.
He was quite possibly one of the most attractive men I’d ever seen, albeit a little older than the boys I was used to playing with. Coop had been twenty-five, but this guy had to be in his mid thirties—almost twice my age. But his age had no effect on how attractive I found him.
That dark hair—cropped short, but still with the slightest wave to it—and the way his lip curved up on one side when he looked at me made me wet. His tie was loosened with the top two buttons of his white shirt undone, and his charcoal pants did nothing to hide how well equipped he was, especially in his excited state. My head began to spin as I inhaled his scent, musky and sweet. I just wanted to lick him . . . among other things.
My heart began to race as his fingers traced my hairline, then down my neck and over my collarbone. They stopped just short of my chest, waiting, as his gaze burned into me. There was something so confident about this man . . . He’s irresistible.
I knew nothing about him, yet I needed him. He was the key to allowing me to forget, at least for one night. I needed to use him to erase the hounding thoughts in my head.
Blondie pressed up against me and I jumped again. Disappointment rushed through me as I remembered we weren’t alone. I’d forgotten about her.
I tilted my neck as she kissed me, my eyes never leaving his. He nodded at Blondie, who walked around in front of me as he sat down, his leg crossing over his knee, his arms stretched out over the back of the sofa.
“He wants to watch us,” she whispered in my ear, her hands roaming underneath the hem of my dress, riding it up.
Hell, I’ll give this guy whatever he wants.