I was scanning the crowd—seriously, how did this many people fit in here?—for Cyrus, when I found Sutton instead.
I stopped in my tracks, stunned by what I saw.
I thought I needed to find a bottle of bleach for my eyes, stat.
She moved her body in a way that made it seem like she was dry-humping the guy she was giving a lap dance. Her eyes were glassed over with lust and drunkenness. He tried to touch her, but she slapped his hand away. Lifting her hair, she exposed her slender neck and gave the man a demure look. I was riveted—disgusted but unable to look away from the show playing out before me.
God, I wished I wasn’t sober. Every sway of her hips had my mind reeling.
When she lowered and grinded herself against his dick, I lost my mind.
I stomped forward—a man on a mission.
I shoved people out of my way as I desperately tried to reach Sutton. I wasn’t sure what had come over me. A latent hero complex? Maybe, but doubtful.
When I reached her, her eyes were closed so she didn’t see me.
She was a tiny little thing—short but with hips my hands desperately wanted to rest on and her breasts weren’t bad either, where I could see them swelling at the top of the dress.
Not giving myself another moment of thought, I wrapped my arm around her middle, and hauled her over my shoulder. She let out a high-pitched shriek that had people wincing.
“What the fuck?” The man in the chair looked at me.
He didn’t deserve a response, and before he could react, I shifted my weight so that I didn’t drop Sutton, and kicked that fucker right out of the chair.
I turned sharply, head held high. “Cyrus, turn the music down, or it won’t be your nose I break.” I said the words calmly, my show having caused all the eyes in the room to turn to me, so there was no need for shouting…unless I felt like it.
“Put me down!” Sutton shrieked, beating my back with her mighty little fists.
I admired her spunk. Normally, it would irritate me, but not with this woman. No, it made me tick in an entirely different way.
“Not happening sweetheart,” I grinned, my step bouncing so that her stomach smacked against my shoulder.
“Ow,” she moaned. “Don’t do that.”
Opening the door to my apartment, I carried her inside, flopping her like a rag doll on the couch.
She instantly rolled off, the whole front of her body pressed to the ground.
“Hello floor,” she mumbled, waving her arms and legs like one would when making a snow angel. “I love you floor. You’re cold.”
I couldn’t contain my snicker.
“You brought me home, you can leave now fucktard,” she lifted one hand in the air, waving around her pointed middle finger.
I squatted beside her, my chuckle permeating the air. I hadn’t been this amused in a long time. “Well, I would, but you’re in my apartment. So that would make my leaving silly, wouldn’t it?”
“Fuuuuck,” she tried to push herself up on shaky arms but collapsed on the floor once more. “Take me home.”
“Not happening,” I shook my head. “If I did that, then that asshole yo
u were grinding your ass against like you’re a fucking pornstar would try to fuck you and that’s not happening on my watch.”
“Jealous?” She tilted her head to the side so she could look up at me through long thick lashes. I swallowed thickly. She was beautiful—in a natural way, where she didn’t need makeup and fancy clothes, both of which she was wearing in abundance at the moment.
“No. I may be a bad man, Sutton, but I still don’t condone rape.”
“I can assure you, it would’ve been consensual. I didn’t need you to be my black knight,” she groaned. “I really love this floor.”