Obsession (4 page)

I rolled my eyes then lifted my glass in the direction of Tina’s retreating perfect ass, trying to diffuse the tension between my friends. “Please, she’s just a professional. Look at this place. Do you think they’d have anyone working here who wasn’t an expert at kissing ass?”

Joy tossed her curly blonde hair over her shoulder. “Yeah, but she smiled at you like you were Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny all wrapped up in one.”

“Oh my God,” Kayla interrupted us. “Shut up and admire the scenery, ladies. There are some very, very hot men here tonight, and I, for one, don’t plan on giving up the opportunity for some VIP dick.”

We all laughed then Joy nodded as she tapped her lips with a pink-painted nail. “I wonder if there’s anyone famous here tonight.”

“Well,” Kayla said with an arched brow and a smirk, “I think I see the mayor over there with someone who isn’t his wife.”

“What? Where?” I turned to look but Kayla hit my leg.

She gave me a disdainful sneer that made me feel dumb. “We aren’t going to blend in if we sit here openly staring at people like we’re on a safari and they’re the wild animals. God, at least pretend to fit in.”

Joy raised her glass and took a hefty drink while glaring at Kayla. “Anyway, I think this place is awesome. Thank you, again, for bringing me along.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” We exchanged air kisses while Kayla was busy on her phone.

Joy guzzled another gulp of champagne while I laughed. “Slow down there, champ.”

Narrowing her pale green eyes at me, Joy licked her lips then lowered her glass. “Please, you’re the lightweight here. It’ll take me more than a glass of champagne to even get a buzz going. Besides, this stuff is amazing. Live a little, drink up. We’re cabbing it home so if you’re going to get trashed on the good stuff, now’s the time to do it.”

“Good point.”

I took a big drink of my own and was pleasantly surprised by how delicious it was. Certainly better than any champagne I’ve ever had, even the expensive stuff at my cousin Silvie’s wedding. Savoring the tingling liquid before it slid down my throat, I enjoyed the way the bubbles exploded on my tongue and tickled my mouth. The drink had a sweet tinge to it that reminded me faintly of raspberries. Tart and delicious. I took another long drink, noticing Joy and Kayla had drained their glasses as well.

Smirking, Kayla took the champagne bottle out of the ice bucket and studied the label. “I thought it seemed familiar. My parents have a couple bottles of this at home, the reserve edition, of course.”

“Of course,” Joy muttered before she took another drink.

Ignoring their bickering, I eagerly looked around and studied how the other half lived. Or at least partied. Our little section of the room was partially concealed behind long, flowing and sheer white drapes that had an almost mother-of-pearl-like gleam to them. They undulated in the gentle breeze coming from the vents at the top of the walls and made it almost feel like we were outside.

Despite the crowd, the club wasn’t sweltering and I shifted on the couch, trying to tuck my short dress beneath my butt as I turned to steal a quick glance at the surroundings. Hot guys were indeed everywhere and I wondered if maybe it was time to break my self-imposed celibacy streak. I’d sworn off men after the last guy I dated nine months ago accused me of being a stage-five clinger with stalker tendencies…and my friends hadn’t disagreed.

Evidently he didn’t appreciate me stalking him on social media while we were apart, and then I “just happened” to show up at the restaurant where he was having dinner with his friends like a desperate loser.

With a sigh, I downed the rest of my glass, pushing away my past regrets that clung to me like tar.

After returning from the restroom in a bouncy mood, Kayla grinned her perfectly white smile and launched into a detailed breakdown of what kind of dick random guys in the crowd had.

Laughing at my friend’s antics, I leaned back into the comfortable sofa and did some people watching, one of my favorite pastimes. Back before I got over my shyness, I’d often been the quiet kid in class, absorbing everything around me while trying to blend into the scenery. My mother developed a hairpin temper after my sister’s death and I learned to watch her every move, to read her every expression and base my day off of her temperament. It was only after I got out of their house for good and into college that I began to see how fucked-up my family was, and how much they’d messed
me
up.

Eager to distract myself from my negative thoughts and worries, I sat up straighter on the couch and took a good look around while Kayla carried on about some portly guy having a big one. As I scanned the dance floor, I was surprised by how many couples were dancing so close you couldn’t slip a feather between them. The sexual energy was thick, and I squeezed my legs when a pulse of blood rushed between them. My nipples tingled and I shifted on the couch, tugging my skirt again to make sure I wasn’t flashing anyone.

“Hannah,” Joy said as she elbowed me in the ribs. “That guy is totally checking you out.”

“What guy?”

“That scary-looking one with the sexy hair and psycho eyes.”

“Who?”

“Heavy brow, broad forehead, square jaw, and hair that Thor would be envious over.”

I followed the direction of Joy’s pink-painted fingernail and it didn’t take me long to figure out who she was talking about.

I’d always inwardly snorted when I’d read the description of a woman being struck dumb by the sight of a man, but I wasn’t anymore—’cause I could barely breathe.

He was fascinating, and I found myself unable to look away.

Dressed in a pair of faded jeans that fit his athletic figure like a glove, his body was bigger and stronger than that of any other man around us, including the bouncers. As best I could tell in the club lighting, he had long, thick golden-brown hair that fell to his broad shoulders in messy waves, framing an unusual face that was roughly masculine, all carved cheekbones and thick jaw. Not a pretty boy by any means, or even a boy at all. No, this guy was one hundred percent confident man. His chest appeared impossibly broad and his torso tapered down to a trim waist. Everything about him seemed to reek of health and vitality.

While my gaze wandered his body, my attention was drawn to his solid right wrist, which had a black leather band wrapped around it. I found the sight of that black band incredibly sexy and wondered when the hell I’d developed a fetish for men’s wrists. My breasts grew heavy and this odd…carnal urge began to burn in my belly.

The air around me thickened as our gazes met and he strode through the crowd to our table, drawing people’s attention like a magnet. He wasn’t conventionally attractive, his features too heavy, the lines going across his broad forehead too thick, and his nose broken too many times, but he was charismatic in a way I’ve never experienced. I couldn’t blame the crowd for turning to watch him as he stalked towards us. He prowled like a beast and his intense, direct stare turned me on even as his approach made me increasingly nervous.

“Bet he’s got a really thick dick,” Kayla whispered as we all silently watched him.

By the time he reached our couch, we were full-on staring at him, but it was Kayla who spoke first with a flirty little, “Hi.”

Ignoring her, he held out his hand to me and commanded in a deep voice, “Dance with me.”

It wasn’t a request, it was an order, and I felt a sense of almost relief that I didn’t have to worry about making the decision of saying yes or no. How odd. I must be drunker than I thought because I wasn’t alarmed by his domineering manner in the least. Instead, a fuzzy warmth tingled through my body as he kept all of his attention solely on me, despite Kayla’s obvious pouting at being ignored.

After a quick glance at my friends—Joy was staring at him as if he was Channing Tatum doing a full strip tease in front of us—I placed my hand in his, and then tried to jerk away as an electrical charge zapped between us.

The mysterious man gently led me out of the seating area with his hand resting lightly on my lower back, his good manners a direct contrast to his rough image.

Alcohol obliterates the filter between my mind and my mouth so I found myself blurting out, “Why do you want to dance with me?”

He drew me closer, then dipped his face down to nuzzle my ear as he said, “Because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. What’s your name?”

I desperately wanted to believe him, but a lifetime of being told I wasn’t good enough reared its ugly head and twisted his words inside of my mind, making me hear them as a mocking insult.

“My name’s Hannah, but you don’t have to give me a line. Why did you really ask me?”

He jerked back and looked down at me with a curious expression. “You don’t believe me?”

Anger, mixed with a disconcerting desire, had me tugging away from him. “I don’t want to dance with you anymore.”

When I tried to let go of his hand, his gaze cleared and, for the first time, I felt like he looked at me,
really
looked at me—then he gave me an utterly charming smile that flooded my panties with desire.

“I guarantee you do.”

Holy hell, I think a small climax fluttered through my clenching sex.

Examining him closer, I was once again reminded that he was a solid man with a presence as big as his frame, drowning me in his heat. When he placed his hand gently beneath my chin and forced me to meet his gaze, I couldn’t find the strength to resist his unspoken control. We studied each other for a moment in the flashing lights of the club, desire curling low in my belly as I drank in his harsh good looks. This was a confident, powerful, intimidating man. The exact opposite of my usual type of guy. I liked smart, quiet, and nerdy. Or at least I used to. My throbbing clit assured me that my tastes in men had changed.

Big time.

Now, mature, dangerous, and built like a professional wrestler seemed to be my preference.

In a way, he did actually remind me of a professional wrestler my cousin used to watch, Triple H. Same heavy brow and deep-set eyes, along with a good dose of menace. The man holding my face as gently as could be was the kind of men others feared, but not me. I had the strangest sense that he’d protect me, if I let him.

He raised my hand to his lips and gently brushed them over my skin, then, when his tongue flicked out to taste me, my nipples became so hard they ached. “One dance. Let me show you how good things will be between us.”

“
Will
be?” I rolled my eyes even as my panties were wet with desire and my pulse throbbed with growing need. “You sound awfully sure about that.”

“Baby girl, one thing I can promise you is that I’ve never been as sure about anything in my life. Enough talking, I’ve waited what seems like an eternity for this moment. I need to touch you.”

A tremble of need raced through me and the thought of rubbing my drunk and horny body against his seemed to be the best idea I’d had in ages.

He led me to the dimly lit VIP dance floor, already packed with people dancing close—really close. I was pretty sure we passed a couple where the woman had her hand down her dance partner’s pants, but we’d moved on before I could get a good look. When he came to a stop, we were near the middle of the dance floor and the bass was intense, shivering through my body like my skin was being kissed by snowflakes. My breasts ached and I hoped it wasn’t too obvious I wasn’t wearing a bra. Normally with my little lady humps, I didn’t have to worry about support, but one glance down at my ridged tips sticking out like pencil erasers made me rethink my stance on backless, and braless, dresses.

That is, until my dance partner stroked his finger down my bare spine, sending a flurry of want cascading into my body, making me moan. Thankfully that wanton sound was hidden by the music, but when he moved fully behind me, grasped my hips and pulled me back into his thick erection, my moan must have been audible to everyone in a ten-foot radius. It felt so good that I’m not ashamed to say I ground my ass against him like a randy slut.

His hands were firm, strong, and they almost spanned my waist as he slowly ran them up my sides, barely grazing my breasts. Instead of stopping there and copping a feel, he traced his hands up the suddenly sensitive skin of my arms, raising them above my head as I followed his lead, then clasping them behind his neck, where I instantly tangled my fingers into the thick silk of his hair.

His responding growl had me arching into him and I swayed my butt against his solid shaft, gratified by another rumble vibrating through his chest behind me as we danced in perfect harmony.

The strong beat of the music guided our hips while we slid against each other as if we were fucking with our clothes on. He controlled my every shift with a familiar ease, like we’d been dancing together for years. The more he touched me, the more I fell into his overwhelmingly sensual presence while he guided me with his fingertips. 

My pussy ached and when he ran his hands down the sides of my ribs again, I shuddered with burning desire. On the way back up, he brushed each hard tip of my breasts just the slightest bit, the feeling racing straight to my clit like erotic lightning. His touch was just enough to tease me, to make me ravenous for more. I tried to arch into his hand, but he wouldn’t let me, and I wanted to cry with frustration that he didn’t give me more.