Slamming Demon (Pounding Hearts 2)
I need another drink and start to push through the crush of bodies, making my way to the bar.
Brett grabs me by the hand and pulls me back. “Where are you going?” he asks, and he looks worried, like I’m trying to ditch him.
“I just need another drink!” I holler over the roar of the crowd. He seems to relax and nods his head. Keeping ahold of my hand, Brett takes the lead, pulling me to the bar.
“What do you want?” he asks, head bending down, warm breath brushing against my ear.
I need something strong, something to relieve this ache in my heart. He’s so close yet even now it feels like we couldn’t be farther apart.
“Tequila!”
Brett frowns and repeats, “Tequila?” to confirm.
I nod my head. I seriously need me some tequila right now.
“Are you sure?”
I nod again.
Brett flags down the bartender. Two shots later and I’m feeling warm, buzzed and a good deal better. The lights start to blur together and I no longer mind the pulse of the crowd. Brett eases closer and I don’t mind his presence as much either. In fact, if I’m completely honest with myself, I’m kind of glad he’s here.
I grab onto his shoulder and lift up on my tiptoes to speak in his ear. “Why aren’t you drinking?”
His face turns, his cheek presses against mine as he speaks into my ear. “I keep myself clean before a fight. I’m in training mode.”
Oh, that’s right, he’s fighting that Charlie guy next month for a title. Brett pulls away just far enough to look in my eyes.
I get lost inside his eyes, warm swirls of chocolate mixed with honey that glitter back at me. I’ve always believed he has the most beautiful eyes in the world.
“Do you want to dance?” I just kind of blurt out without even thinking about it.
His lips pull into a slow grin and he nods his head. Before I have time to reconsider, he’s got me by the hand again and he’s leading me onto the dance floor.
Whether it’s in the cage, in a bed or on a dance floor, Brett’s always known how to move.
Resting his hands gently on my waist, he pulls me close and he helps me rock my hips. It takes only seconds for me to pick up his rhythm and then the rest of the club fades away until we’re grinding and rocking against each other, caught up in our own special groove.
“Mandy,” Brett pants when the song changes and we have to slow down. I just want to have fun but the way he’s looking at me, his face is entirely too serious. “I missed you.”
Fuckin’ hell, it literally feels like behind my ribs my heart swells. The next breath I take is so slow it’s painful. I have to look away when I tell him, “I missed you too.”
“Why…” He starts but I act immediately. I can’t handle that question right now. I press my fingers against his lips to stop him.
Shaking my head, I warn him, “Don’t, please don’t.”
Brett’s shoulders slump and I feel him pulling away from me both physically and emotionally.
I drop my fingers from his lips and grab him by the shoulders. “Later. I promise. I’ll tell you anything you want to know later.”
Brett’s eyes blaze at me, he’s not happy but he’s also not walking away from me.
“Please,” I plead. “Please just dance with me?”
Brett nods his head and before he changes his mind, I press my body against his body. Wrapping my arms around his neck, my breasts squash against his chest. I thrust my hips into his hips and rock, grinding against his bulge.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Don’t tease me.”
Feeling reckless. Feeling like there’s an angry, sexually frustrated teenage girl trapped inside me just screaming to come out, I grind hard into him again. Stimulating my own clit.