Starting From the Top (Starting from 5)

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

The thump of dance music vibrated through my body, gaining in intensity as I moved toward the main floor of the club. I traversed a dark corridor, passing the break room and another hallway leading to an office. The traffic around the bathroom was busy as usual. I slipped by a cluster of bare-chested hotties and a couple grinding like porn stars against the wall, pausing when I reached the edge of the dance floor.

What a beautiful sight. Seriously. Watching sexy men gyrate under a disco ball with flashing strobe lights while go-go dancers in G-strings shimmied on a raised catwalk was mesmerizing any day of the week. Of course, being in the middle of all that masculine energy was always better, I mused, scanning the periphery before turning toward the crowded bar.

Damn, it was chaos central. The line had to be four people deep. It wrapped around the semicircular bar area, making it impossible to see who was behind the counter without pushing and shoving my way to the front. I sucked in a breath and went for it, knocking elbows and sidling through narrow openings like a diehard fan in a mosh pit making a beeline for the stage. I was actually pretty adept at the sideline shuffle. In a matter of minutes, I was bellied up to the far edge of the bar next to a tray of limes…and just a few feet away from my frazzled-looking lover, who was busily mixing a cocktail.

I waved my arms in the air to get Sean’s attention and grinned when his no-nonsense expression cracked into a wry half smile. He inclined his head in acknowledgment and finished his task. I leaned on my elbows, unabashedly admiring his muscled forearms as he opened a martini shaker and poured alcohol into two tumblers. He handed them to a bartender, gesturing toward someone in the mass of revelers, then grabbed a dish towel and headed my way.

“What are you doing here?”

“Nice greeting,” I huffed.

Sean’s smile lit his eyes this time. “Sorry. I’m glad you’re here. Your timing is good.”

“Really? It’s crazy here.”

“I know, but our backup arrived, and I think we have it under control. Want a drink?”

“Just water, please.”

Sean spritzed water into a glass and slid it toward me, leaning forward to be heard without yelling. “How was your date?”

“You remembered.”

“That’s one way put it,” he replied in a tone I couldn’t quite read. “Be right back.”

I sipped my water casually, letting my gaze idly roam the sea of men before landing on Sean again. He stood out like a banker at a nudist colony in his designer suit pants and oxford shirt. His rolled-up sleeves were probably a concession to comfort, and yeah, it was kind of a dorky look, but the normally cutthroat crowd here loved a sexy daddy type. And Sean was the ultimate alpha dog. Demanding as fuck, but patient when necessary.

He had to notice the hungry stares aimed in his direction. He had to know that with one look he could have anyone here he wanted. Then again, maybe part of his appeal was that he was unattainable. He didn’t mix business with pleasure. In other words, he was Clay’s opposite. If I’d shown any interest in having my memory jogged about our alleged sexy encounter, Clay would have been happy to assist. Sean wouldn’t have given me the time of day. He had a strict set of rules and expected them to be followed.

Which begged the question…what the fuck was I doing here? I didn’t like rules, and I didn’t like to be told what to do. What did I want from Sean? Absolution, amnesty? I hadn’t done anything wrong. I just wasn’t sure that I’d done anything right either. And I couldn’t shake the notion that I needed to confess my sins. I needed to be told I was okay.

Fuck, I didn’t know if that even made sense. I just knew I wanted to talk to him.

I swallowed another gulp of water, glancing up when Sean reappeared. He barked orders to an employee before motioning for me to follow him. I picked up my glass and joined him at a high corner table behind the main bar, hidden almost entirely in shadows. It was less noisy here, which had to be some kind of cool trick with acoustics. The only issue was that it was a little cramped. I couldn’t ease into the barstool without upsetting the table. Sean solved the problem by moving my stool closer to his…so close that my thigh rested against his.

“I’m surprised this section isn’t crowded too. It’s bonkers here tonight,” I commented conversationally.

“True, but this table is permanently reserved. I don’t want any traffic back here. It’s a good spot to observe without getting crushed by a mob of thirsty gays.” Sean darted his gaze briefly to the bar, furrowing his brow unhappily.