Behind Your Back - Cameron Chelsea M. - Страница 37
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“What are you thinking about?” she asks me.
“That I’m having a good time and I’m glad I came out with you,” I say, giving her a smile.
“Wanna dance?”
“As long as it’s not a two-step,” I say, getting up and taking her hand. I don’t pay attention to the rest of the table, but I’m hoping this will score me romantic points with Lo. If I can prove that I’m going to treat Saige right, I’ll be in.
The song is the sort of thing you shuffle to, so that’s what Saige and I do.
“How am I doing?” I ask. I want to know what she thinks.
“Very well. Although, I thought Lo was going to deck you. I think she’s still a little rattled by the last time. She can be protective.” That was an understatement.
“It’s good that she cares about you that much.” The boys had my back and it was invaluable.
“I’m glad you’re not threatened by her. Some guys would be.”
“She doesn’t scare me,” I say with a grin and Saige returns it.
“Good. Because I want you to get along. I really do.”
“And I have every intention of getting along with her. Even though she likes Frasier.” I cringe, making Saige giggle.
“I have to agree with you on that one. Seinfeld was way better.”
I tuck her into me and we keep shuffling together. The song ends and we make our way back over to the table.
“Well-played, sir, well-played,” Lo says with a slow clap. “I may have underestimated you.”
“I think that’s a compliment,” I say.
“It is,” Saige says.
“So, I have an idea. How about we blow this joint and head somewhere a little more lively,” Beck says, leaning against JR. He’s equally preppy, wearing khakis and a polo. But he’s not a douche, so that’s a plus.
“I second,” Amelia says, even though she’s weaving a little bit.
“I third,” Saige says and I fourth.
“Fine, fine. What’s next on the list?” Lo says. Saige pulls out her phone and scans something.
“Um, the next one is a few blocks away. We could probably just walk.” It’s a warm night and most of us are still just buzzed. I send Cash (my follower for the night) a text letting him know that we’re moving locations and to follow. For a huge guy, he’s surprisingly stealthy.
“Let’s go,” Beck says and we head to the bar to pay our tabs and then out to the street. Saige cuddles against me.
“I really like you,” she says as if it surprises her.
“I really like you.” This isn’t a lie. I really do like her. She’s sexy and funny and sarcastic and beautiful. I brush my hand on the back of her neck where her tattoo is.
“When did you get this? You’ve asked about my tattoos, and I want to know about yours.” It’s the only one she has.
“Um, I got it on spring break a few years ago. We were in Ireland and it seemed like the thing to do. My mother’s side is Shea.” I knew that as well.
“Well you got lucky. A lot of tattoos like yours turn out looking like shit.” I’d seen more than my fair share of shoddy ink. Damn shame.
“Thanks. Most of the time I forget that it’s there.” She rubs the back of her neck.
“Well, it suits you.”
“Thanks,” she says and she shivers.
“Are you cold?”
She shakes her head and we keep walking.
The group gets loud and rowdy the closer we get to the next stop, but I’m fine with that. Even when Amelia starts singing in French at the top of her lungs.
“She only speaks French when she’s wasted,” Isla explains, as she tries to help Amelia along.
The next spot we go to is more what I thought of when Saige told me we were going out. You can hear the music from fairly far away and there’s a beefy bouncer at the door checking IDs.
We make our way in and there’s barely enough room to breathe. The place is packed to the rim with sweaty bodies, most grinding and gyrating to the loud music that pours from giant speakers parked on the floor like monoliths.
“Now this is more like it,” Beck says, bobbing her head and then executing a turn that doesn’t quite happen in the limited space.
The group heads upstairs again, and it’s a battle to find a table, but JR somehow secures one and we crowd around it while Beck volunteers to get the drinks. I go for another beer since I’m playing it safe.
We toast to better music and finish our drinks pretty fast so we can hit the dance floor. I’ve never danced like this with Saige, but I’m not worried. Dancing is one step away from sex and we work perfectly in that department.
Instead of moving back to front like a lot of dancers, we face each other. I place my hands on her hips and her arms go around my neck. This time I let her lead and match my movements to hers.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK.
This isn’t close to sex. It’s fucking without penetration. I’ve been wanting her all night and the second she grinds her hips into mine, I’m so fucking hard I can barely see straight. Saige notices and it seems to amuse her. She just smiles up at me and keeps dancing to the throbbing beat of the music. Gripping the back of my neck, she draws my head down to her mouth.
“Do you want me, Quinn Brand?” It doesn’t matter how loud the music is. She could whisper and I’d still hear her.
“What do you think?” I say, turning my head so my lips are nearly touching her earlobe as I thrust my hips into hers. I know she can feel me through my jeans.
“I think yes,” she says back. “Are you going to do something about it?”
I flirt briefly with the idea of somehow fucking her right here on this dance floor, but that might not endear me to her friends, so I pull back a little from her.
“I’m going to dance with you, Saige,” I say back.
She puts her arms up in the air and swivels her hips as if she’s telling me what I’m missing. Oh, Redhead, I know.
In return, I grab her hips, digging my fingers in and matching her movements. I want her as turned on as I am.
“Why don’t you just fuck each other and get it over with!” A voice yells nearby. I’ve completely forgotten that we’re in a roomful of other people.
Saige and I both turn our heads to find Lo scowling at us as she dances with a random guy who seems more interested in her ass than her face.
“Lo,” Saige says in a warning voice. They have a moment of silent conversation with their eyes that I’m not privy to and then Lo rolls her eyes and says “Whatever. Do what you want.”
But she’s sending a clear signal. She’s watching me and looking out for her friend. Fine. I actually respect her for doing that. Saige deserves a friend who will have her back no matter what.
The music pulses and our hips fuse and Saige and I dance until we’re both panting and our skin is shiny with sweat. It doesn’t help that everyone is pressed so close together that it’s impossible to take a deep breath.
Saige stands up on her tiptoes and tells me she needs some water. I nod and take her hand to lead her through the crowd. I part the way for her and it makes me feel good. I know I can be intimidating, so it’s easy to tow her along as people get out of my way. I find a tiny corner of the bar where we can stand and hear each other better than on the dance floor.
“Do you want another drink, or just the water?” I ask her as she fans herself and pulls her hair off her neck.
“Just water. I’d rather not be hung over tomorrow and I’m pretty sure I danced off all the other drinks.”
I get the bartender’s attention and order two bottles of water. I hand one to Saige and she puts it on the back of her neck and sighs in relief, her eyes closing.
“Aren’t you hot in that?” she asks, motioning to my shirt. I’m boiling, but I’m not taking this thing off.
“I’m fine.” She makes a face that communicates skepticism. “I don’t share my ink with just anyone. It’s… I only share it with people I trust.” I don’t know right now if this is a truth or a lie.
“Why do you have so many if you don’t want people to see them?”
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