Bare Yourself (Consumed)

I glance at him. His eyes are still on the road, and his expression is neutral, but there’s no mistaking the hope I heard in his voice.

“That’s the plan for now, but I haven’t made a definite decision yet.”

It’s small, but I see his smile.

“Where is home?” he asks.

“Austin, Texas.”

He whistles. “You’re a long way from there. How do you like Atlanta so far?”

“It’s different, but not a bad different. It’s a nice change.”

It turns quiet after that. The music is just loud enough to keep it from becoming an uncomfortable silence. His hand moves a fraction, not down my leg like a good guy would do, but up it, like a bad one would. My breath hitches and my hands fist in the seat beside me. I can feel his eyes on me, but I keep mine on the road. It takes everything in me to not take his hand and shove it the rest of the way up my skirt.

He doesn’t move his hand further up my leg, much to my disappointment, and ten minutes later, we’re pulling into a well-lit parking lot. By the time he turns the truck off, hops out, and comes to my door and opens it, I’m damn near panting. I may not know Tegan, but I do know that before the night ends, my dry spell will be over. Label me a slut if you want, but I’ll be feeling damn good tonight.

Tegan helps me down from the truck and tucks me into his side as we make our way across the parking lot to a brick building. It looks nondescript from the outside. The windows are blacked out with a string of purple lights outlining them and a simple lit sign hangs above the door that says Blackie’s. The place doesn’t look like much, but from the long line I see out front, obviously it’s a gem in disguise.

We bypass the line and walk straight to the bouncer manning the door.

“Hey Tegan, what’s up?” the tall bald man greets Tegan, shaking his hand.

“Nothing much. The same as usual. The place busy?”

“It’s Friday. You know how it is on Fridays.”

The bouncer unlatches the red rope and steps back until we pass him. He eyes me for a second, then winks at Tegan. “Have fun.”

We walk through the door, and I stop, my jaw dropping open. Minnie wasn’t lying when she said inhibitions were lax at Blackie’s. The first thing I notice, just inside the door, is a man who has a woman backed up against a wall, one of her legs thrown over his hip, grinding against her. His hand disappears under her skirt, no doubt playing with what’s underneath.

More of the same can be seen throughout the place. People grind on each other all over the dance floor. Some sit at booths making out. Shirts are lifted, showing more skin than I’ve ever seen in one place. One man is sitting on a stool in the corner with a woman in his lap. Her skirt covers her ass, but by the way she’s slightly lifting her hips, I have no doubt they are fucking. Although it’s plain to see way more goes on here than is legal, people aren’t blatantly having sex out in the open. They’re either covering themselves enough that you have to guess what they’re doing, or in dark enough corners that you have to really look to tell they’re having sex. As screwed up as it sounds, what these people are doing feels sensual.

Watching all this, I want to be disgusted, I should be disgusted, but all I can feel is my breath quickening and my body heating up. I almost quiver with the sensations rushing through me. I’ve never been so turned on in my life.

A quick look over at Tegan shows him watching my reaction. His expression is wary. Licking my lips, I let the desire I’m feeling show in my eyes and step up to him. “I need a drink.” I whisper the words against his lips. The hand he has on my waist tightens, and for a minute I think he’s going to go in for a kiss, but then he lets my waist go and grabs my hand to lead me to the bar. I order a screaming orgasm, just to fuck with him, and he gets a shot of tequila and a beer for himself.

Handing me my drink, he leans down and whispers in my ear. “You’ll be having plenty of those later.” He bites the side of my neck before pulling away.

I take a large sip of my drink, hoping the cool liquid will bring down my fevered temperature. He smiles sexily at me when he sees my flustered state.

Damn, the man is gorgeous, and his grin is dangerous.

“Come on,” he says, grabbing my hand again. “I was so surprised to see you earlier, I forgot to introduce you to my friends.”

“They’re here?” I shout over the music as we make our way to a corner table.

“Yep.” He looks back at me. “We come here often.”

I’m not sure I like that statement. This place oozes sex. Hell, people are having sex here, and the only reason someone would come here is for sex. The thought of Tegan in this place, either picking someone from the crowd or bringing a girl, doesn’t settle well in my stomach. I take another swallow of my drink and force the thought away. I have no right to be jealous.

Tegan’s two friends from the diner, along with another man, are at the table we stop at. The woman has her hands thrown back and has them wrapped around the neck of the guy standing behind her stool. His face is in her neck and she’s swaying back and forth in her chair. When she sees us approaching, she looks at me curiously, but keeps up with her swaying.

“Willow, this is Nathan and Ava. You remember them from earlier, right? Guys, this is Willow.”

I give them a small wave and get a four-finger wave back from Ava. She introduces her date as Brett. Nathan does the guy thing and jerks his chin up.

After taking another hefty swallow of my drink, I set it on the table and lean my elbows on the surface. Warmth hits my back, and a second later an empty shot glass smacks down on the table beside my almost empty glass, followed closely by Tegan’s beer bottle, then his hands. I shiver when his chest meets my back. His hard cock settles against my ass, and before I can stop myself, I push back against it, surprised by my bravery at my very public action. His groan is loud in my ear, and I inwardly smile.

I love knowing I affect him just as strongly as he does me.

His hot breath whispers against my ear. “You drive me fucking crazy, baby.” He pulls back and turns me around, dipping down and lightly running his lips against mine. It’s not a kiss, just a barely there touch of the lips, but it almost has me melting into a puddle. “Come dance with me.”

Not waiting for an answer, he pulls me out to the dance floor. His arms go around my waist, landing on my ass, then hauls me forward until I’m smashed against his chest. I gasp, even as my arms instinctively go around his neck. The song has just changed to a slow tune, and with Tegan’s lead, we start swaying to the music.

“Have you lived in Atlanta your whole life?” I ask, determined to find out more about the man who’s slowly driving me insane.

He leans down and nips at the juncture of my neck and shoulder. “Yes.”

“Mmm…” I moan. “Wh-what kind of work do you do?” I ask breathlessly.

“I make things.”

His tongue travels a path up my neck, and the need in my body burns even brighter.

“What types of things?” I force myself to ask. It’s getting increasingly harder to concentrate on anything other than what he’s doing.

“Woodwork. I make things with wood.”