me, following Lexie’s lead as she enjoys the music. I stand rigidly, not moving a single muscle. I’m frozen in place, unable to take my eyes off the woman on stage for even a second. She might not win any of those talent reality shows she loves so much, but she’s got a good singing voice—never straining to hit the right note with a tone thats as bright and alluring as she is.
Her stage presence matches the rest of her personality, pulling focus and shining brightly on everyone who lays eyes on her without even trying. Magnetic. Every pair of eyes in this entire bar are glued to her, as helpless as I am against her charisma.
The way her body moves, not missing a single beat in the pulsing music is hypnotic, her generous curves accentuated with every sway of her hips or shake of her shoulders. I know every man in this bar is staring straight at how her full breasts bounce and sway in that fucking scrap of a top, each movement erotically charged. She pays them no mind, but I do.
Her confidence is so damn sexy, the way she’s comfortable in her own skin makes me want to get comfortable in her skin along with her. Jealousy surges through me at the thought of any other man looking at her the way I am right now, wanting what they can’t have.
Her attention returns to me every time she sings the chorus, her serenading switches between teasing and flirting, to powerful and heartfelt. When the song ends, she draws out the last note dramatically, the crowded bar cheering wildly. My eyes track her movements as she hands the mic back to the man acting as host, narrowing slightly at the way he grins at her.
Any anger melts away when she bounds straight over to me, my chest tightening at the look of pure joy on her face. Her cheeks are flushed, eyes sparkling beneath dramatic lashes. She’s absolutely beaming, dousing me in blazing warmth until I’m nothing but ash.
Fuck, I want to be the reason she smiles like this.
“Didn’t you like my song choice? You didn’t dance.” She doesn’t actually care, she’s still coming off the high from being under the spotlight.
“I don’t dance, Dewdrop.” I can’t take my eyes off her, not even to make sure no other fuckers are eyeing her. Lexie gives a small shrug.
“If you’re boring, just say that,” she replies breezily, taking back the untouched drink she gave me. “Dolly is a queen.”
She hasn’t stopped moving since I arrived, her body constantly feeling the music in some small way. Hearing her words start to run together, I know she’s passed the point of buzzed into tipsy. She looks up at me curiously, sipping through her straw.
“You’re really not leaving without me? It’s gonna be a while, because my night just started.”
“I’ll wait.” And watch.
“Can you at least stop glowering at people? You’re scaring my friends.”
My eyes move over her head to find her party-happy friends eyeing me curiously. I offer them a practiced smile before turning it on Lexie. Her brows jump in amusement, eyes laughing at me.
“Wow, that smile is almost believable,” she teases, her straw slurping against the ice in her now empty glass. The adorable frown she gives the cup is one of disapproval—like it’s personally offended her by running out of alcohol. “Well, time to put this top to good use for a free drink.”
I catch her by the arm before she can turn away, making her stumble into me. She leans against my chest in that damn outfit that gives her so much cleavage it should be illegal. “I’ll open a tab.”
I don’t know what possessed me to fund the drinks for her and her friends for the rest of the night. But the idea of her flaunting around to other men, letting them think they get to take advantage of her voluptuous body, makes me want to start snapping necks.
She lets out a delighted laugh, and steps over to her friends for another round of shots. I can hear her tell them that I’m covering the tab and they lift their glasses to cheers me before downing the tequila. I step back to lean against the bar counter, settling in to watch the whirlwind that is girls night out.
If I thought sober Lexie was a handful, drunk Lexie is in a league of her own. Her already confident demeanor is amplified by the alcohol and her inhibitions are almost completely gone. Dancing on the bar with her girlfriends, becoming friendly with the bartenders, and helping the emcee announce the karaoke line-up.
She even talked a guy into giving her his jacket because she got cold. She doesn’t realize who he was and the significance of his jacket, but I recognized the NFL linebacker instantly. Despite the number of people in the crowded bar, she’s the life of the party. And she never stops laughing.
When her shoes come off, it’s time to go home. Ordering a car for her friends who live in Harlem, I help them into their ride before toting Lexie to where I parked. But not before she returns the jacket to the “nice, friendly, giant man with the cool ring.”
Revving the gran torino engine, I pull into traffic. You’d think at two in the morning there wouldn’t be so many other cars on the road. One of the many charms of living in the city that never sleeps.
“This car is so loud,” Lexie giggles to herself. I can feel her eyes on me. “You know what they say about men with obnoxious cars.”
“No,” I lie. “What do they say?” There’s no telling what’ll come out of her mouth next, but I want to hear it. I can’t help myself.
“That they’re overcompensating for their small dick.” She falls back against the seat, tilting her head against the headrest.
“You think I have a small dick, Dewdrop?” My brows raise at her.
She remains unbothered, smile turning lazy as she eyes me knowingly.
“Not from what I’ve felt. You’ve probably got a big dick to match the rest of you. You’re a very big boy, Callum.” Her words shoot straight to my cock.
“Maybe I’m compensating for something else.”
She doesn’t hesitate to voice her opinion and offer up a suggestion. “Like your compulsive need for control and complete inability to express your feelings?”
“Maybe.” She’s too astute, even when she’s drunk. I run a hand over my beard, turning right on red. She doesn’t notice my attitude shift.
“It’s ok, what you lack in the warm and fuzzies you make up for in badassery,” she states. “Plus, you’re rich and super hot. That tends to make up for a lot of sins.”
“You think I’m hot?” My lips twitch in amusement.
Her animated face moves and I can see her eyes roll in my peripheral vision.
“I’m not blind. Of course I think you’re fucking hot. I thought we already had this conversation.” She’s right, we did. Doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing her say it.
Driving another block, the engine echoes off concrete walls as I turn into our parking garage.
“I think you’re hot.” Understatement of the fucking year.
“I am really hot. Not everyone likes fat babes, but some people also don’t like chocolate. It’s really their loss. Like, do you see my boobs? Ridiculous.” I don’t get the chance to agree on how fucking amazing her tits are before she’s changing the subject. “Mmm, chocolate sounds good. Can we stop to get some? Oh, and garlic bread. I would kill for some garlic bread right now.” She asks like we’re still driving and not already parked in the Penthouse garage.
Climbing out, I circle around to lift her from the passenger seat. She smells like girlie pink cocktails and tequila shots as she clings to me, unsteady on her heels. “I’m getting you to bed.”
She laughs against me, her hands fisting my shirt. “Sounds good to me. Who knew it would take a girls’ night out for us to finally end up in bed together.”
“We’re not having sex tonight, Dewdrop.” She has no idea the amount of willpower I’m using not to take her against the hood of the car right now. Instead, I’m guiding her toward the elevator. Or at least attempting to.
“Jesus, it’s like trying to herd a cat,” I mutter the second time we have to turn around to find her phone on the car floor, after already having gone back for her purse. Of course, Lexie and her smart mouth has something to say about that.
“What, you can’t handle a little pussy? That explains a lot.” She feigns a sympathetic look, her bottom lip sticking out in an exaggerated pout.
“That’s funny, considering you were just offering yours to me a minute ago.” When she inches closer, my jaw tightens. She’s tempting fate, and the amount of power she holds over me is maddening. I punch in the key code for the penthouse and the elevator doors slide closed. Then we’re ascending.
Fucking finally.
“What’s the matter, you don’t want me anymore?” Her hands slide down my chest, glassy eyes spark with salacious intent. I catch them in a firm grip before she can reach my belt. Any lower and she’ll feel exactly how much I want her.
“You have no idea what I want from you, Lexie. But not like this,” I growl, irritation warring with the lust chiseling away at my restraint. I’ve never been one to fold to temptation simply because it was convenient. But fucking hell, I want Lexie and she’s standing here literally begging me to take her.
“Oh, suddenly you’re so noble. Won’t kiss me because I’ve had a drink,” she scoffs, her tone mocking.
She leans in, her generous breasts pressing to my chest and giving me an unobstructed view down her already revealing top. I can feel my control start to slip, my restraint fraying against her lush body. Fuck. Focusing on the potent anger that surges through me, I use my hold on her wrists to put some distance between us.
“You didn’t just have a drink, you’re wasted. I’m not interested in a sloppy makeout session in an elevator when you can’t even stand up straight, just because you’re a horny drunk.” I use a little too much force when I push her to the other side of the elevator. She stumbles, grabbing at the walls to steady herself. When she slumps against the corner for support, she reaches into her bag and pulls out her phone.
“Fine, have it your way.” Her tone has my eyes narrowing.
“What are you doing?” I demand. The smile she gives me when her gaze flickers up to mine is nothing short of sinful.
“Getting on Tinder. This horny drunk is getting laid tonight. If you’re not gonna do it, then I’ll find someone who will.” Her answer has me seeing red. “Ooo, hello Rafael.”
“Give me the fucking phone, Lexie.” Before I know what I’m doing, her phone is in one of my hands and the other takes a possessive hold of her throat, pinning her against the wall. “Get on a dating app again, and I’ll leave a trail of asshats with their throats slit across the city leading to your door.” I tower over her, fury radiating from every tensed muscle. Her breath hitches against my hand on her neck, eyes glittering with satisfaction.
“You’re really hot when you’re angry.” She’s not the least bit intimidated. Instead, she’s turned on by my show of dominance.
Fuck.
“You’re even more infuriating when you’re drunk,” I grate.
“You love it.”
I hate that she’s not wrong.
By the time we reach the top floor, Lexie’s legs are no longer supporting her. She stumbles, reaching and grabbing for anything close enough to offer her support. Instead of watching her topple around like a newborn giraffe, I decide it’s better to just carry her inside.
Scooping her into my arms with her legs wrapped around my waist, the considerable weight of her feels satisfying against me. My hands sink into the flesh of her ass through the thin material of her pants, and it’s all I can do not to grope her. The way her arms wrap around my neck as her head lays on my shoulder is foreignly intimate. I like the way she trusts me to take care of her, to keep her safe.
Laying Lexie on her bed, her breasts bounce on impact, practically spilling out over her top. They’re enticing—promising to be soft and supple. And fucking delicious. I want to get lost in them, drown in them. A better man wouldn’t look at her like this; inebriated and vulnerable. But I’ve never claimed to be chivalrous. And to hell if I’m not going to look.
“It’s okay, you can look at my boobs. Everyone does, there’s no hiding them,” she says, rising up to rest on her elbows. “I know you want to. You want a nice, long, hard look.” Her eyes slide down my body and look pointedly at where my erection strains against my pants. I’m fucking hard as a rock right now, all for her. “You do want me. I knew it.”
She falls back onto the pillows in a halo of blond waves. One step closer and I’m standing over her.
“I do want you, Dewdrop.” Taking her chin in my hand, I turn her head until she’s looking up at me with half-lidded eyes. She’ll pass out any minute now. “But when I have you, you’re not going to be too drunk to remember it in the morning. You’re going to feel every hard inch of me pounding into your pussy while I enjoy every inch of you.”
She smiles against my hand like I’ve said something amusing, her eyes closing.
“Promises, promises,” she murmurs, her voice trailing off as she gives in and lets sleep drag her under. Out like a light.
I stand, looking at her while she sleeps. Trailing my hand from her face to her chest, my fingertips tracing the dramatic swells of her large breasts above her neckline.
So fucking soft. Everything about her is soft, warm, and inviting.
She looks so peaceful like this, her chaos finally tamed by unconsciousness—when she can’t challenge me with one of her witty retorts, or by doing something ridiculous like twirling around a stage with a sparkly microphone.
But as infuriating as her chaos is, I almost miss it. I hate the emptiness that creeps into the gap her missing presence has left in the room. What used to be peaceful for me is now feeling an awful lot like loneliness. Standing here with her in the silence is almost disturbing.
Lexie lay, dead to the world, completely at my mercy. I can do whatever I want with her, there’s nothing to stop me. Brushing a tendril of hair from her face, I let my hand linger.
My fingers itch to wander and explore, but I keep my hand where it is modestly on her waist as I pull her until she’s laying on her side. I can’t let her choke on her own vomit while she sleeps, we have unfinished business.
