Beauty in the Ashes

“I will if you get down from there,” he chuckled like I was the funniest thing he had ever seen.

“I don’t wanna,” I pouted, still swaying to the beat of the song, my arms flailing above my head in what I hoped came across as an enticing gesture. I probably just looked like I was having an out of body experience, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

“How about I go get a drink, and when I come back then you get down?” He suggested, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

I pointed a finger at him, nails painted gold to match the dress per Daphne’s orders, and exclaimed, “Deal!”

With a shake of his head, he went in search of a drink.

I continued to move and shake my body. I felt the eyes of more than one man on me and God it felt good to be looked at. To be wanted. It had been far too long. And if I had my way, one lucky man would be accompanying me to my bed, because I seriously needed to get laid. It had been…I tried to count it up in my head, but it was futile. I was far too drunk and numbers were running together. Suffice to say, it had been a long time. Stupid, cheating, no good ex-boyfriend. After that experience, I was done with relationships. They only ended in disaster. No-Strings-Attached-Sex was exactly what I needed.

Somehow I found myself climbing off the coffee table and going in search of Memphis.

When I found him, he was surrounded by a group of guys, sipping on a beer.

“Hey!” I shouted when I found him.

He turned towards me, as did the rest of the guys.

“Let’s have sex!”

Memphis spit out his beer, spraying it all across the floor. Thankfully it missed me, but hit a few of the guys, who were currently laughing hysterically at my declaration. I didn’t see what was so funny. I was serious.

“Sutton,” he wiped his mouth, trying to catch his breath from nearly choking, “I think you’re drunk.”

“No, I’m not!” I declared with a pout. “I’m perfectly in control of all my faculties.”

“Uh-huh,” he muttered, looking at me in disbelief.

“I am!”

It looked like I was going to have to take matters into my own hands if this was to progress to more fun activities other than standing here discussing my current state of drunkenness—which I wasn’t, drunk that is.

I took his hand in mine, noting how his nearly swallowed mine whole and was rough with callouses.

Cyrus had all the furniture pushed against the walls, so the entire center of the apartment was cleared as a dance floor. I was surprised by how many people were packed into the small space. Well, it was larger than my apartment, a twin of Daphne and Frankie’s, but still not the biggest space in the world and there were between thirty and fifty people.

“What are you doing?” Memphis asked, a slight chuckle to his tone.

“We are going to dance. Did you know that dancing can be great foreplay?”

“Sutton,” he warned.

“I’m not drunk!” I hiccupped. “Okay, maybe a little. But let’s just dance.”

“Sure thing,” he smiled with amusement.

I listened to the song for a few seconds before I started to move my body.

My hips rolled against his and his body instantly responded by coming closer to mine. His large hands grasped me just below my breasts, pushing me into him. Our bodies moved in sync, even our breaths taking on the same rhythm.

“Think of grandma. Grandma. Grandma. Grandma.”

“Why the fuck are you muttering about your grandma for?” I questioned, my back to his front as I reached behind me to twine my hands around his neck. He felt so good, nice and muscular and warm. He smelled good too. Yummy.

His lips brushed against my ear, and he said, “I try to picture my grandma when I don’t want to get a boner and think with the wrong head, and end up taking advantage of drunk girls that have no idea what they’re doing.”

Smiling coyly, I licked my lip