Craving The Player (Amateurs In Love Book 1)(7)
Ethan grins, naive to life outside of places like these. “Do you have a drink already?” He’s moving towards the bar before Clay and I have a chance to answer. “Two pornstars!” he shouts, capturing the attention of the stern-faced bartender who looks almost as happy to be here as I am.
“I forgot how annoying he is when he’s sloshed!” Clay shouts and leans towards me, bumping my shoulder.
“Just when he’s sloshed?” I snort.
“Here you go!” Ethan slides the red and blue-filled shot glass towards us with a sense of urgency. Some of the liquid sloshes over the top of the glass and sticks to the bar top.
“Thanks.” I throw back the shot and fight back my gag when the horrendously sweet mixture slides down my throat, making my stomach whimper. Ethan is already making his way through the crowd when I push the empty glass back where he used to be.
“I’m going outside for a minute,” Clay says, getting a nod from me before he disappears into the never-ending bodies cluttering up the dancefloor. Speaking of, where is this damn band that I was promised?
Peering over a few heads, I search for anything that the band could even use as a stage but come up empty-handed. Unless they plan to shove a drum set in the middle of the dance floor, I think they’re out of luck. Pushing myself away from the bar, I feel a small hand attempt to wrap around my bicep and squeeze.
My jeans pull tighter when I look down and catch an eyeful of a set of creamy tits spilling from a sinful tube top. I place my hand back down on the bar and toss her a star-studded smile. The girl gives me a wicked smile in return. She pushes herself closer to me, sending the blood rushing straight to my groin when her tongue slowly slides along her bottom lip, her hooded eyes locked on mine the entire time.
“Hey, gorgeous.” I swallow the groan of approval in my throat and place my free hand on the bare skin of her lower back, pushing our fronts together.
“Do you remember me?” she asks, a slight glimmer of hope lighting up her eyes. Talk about a fucking cock block.
“No.” I sigh out, long and hard. As much as I would love to have those tits smother my face all night, I’m not about to lie to get her in bed. That seems to be more Ethan’s style than mine.
She stands silent for a moment as she processes my blunt answer. If she were smart, she would turn around and run straight for the hills. Remembering names isn’t really my specialty, among other things.
“Fuck you,” she spits, dropping her hand from my arm and stalking off.
You almost did, sweetheart.
I leave the bar again and start walking towards the little lit-up bathroom sign across the dance floor. I keep my back rigid as I move around the sweaty bodies, desperately avoiding the couple close to filming a damn porno beside me before I’m stumbling into the back of someone, an uncomfortable groan spilling between us as an elbow hits my spine.
My jaw tightens as I turn around to yell at whoever shoved me, only to see the back of a short guy as he pushes through the crowd, away from me. What a damn pussy. With a scowl, I move to head back in the direction of the bathroom when something firm pushes into my crotch, moving in slow circles against me as my eyes go wide. The owner of the plump ass grinding against me does so rhythmically, matching the deep pulse of the song pounding around us, but doesn’t seem to notice me until my hands fly down to grab her wide hips.
Throwing all caution to the wind, I yank the girl closer to me, pressing my front to her back and let my fingers dig into her hip bones. The smooth material of her black, strappy dress sticks to her body like a second skin, leaving nothing, yet far too much to my imagination as I let my eyes trail over the smooth, freckled skin of her shoulders.
I drop my head and brush the top of her ear with my nose, flooding her senses with my hot breath. “You’re bold, rubbing against me like we’ve known each other for years.”
“Maybe we have,” she replies breathlessly, her words saturated in mystery and spoken with a seductive rasp that has lust fogging my mind. Reaching back, she scratches her nails up my arms before gripping onto my bicep and squeezing, pulling me tighter against her until there’s no doubt in my mind that she can feel every pulsing inch of me pressed against her ass.
I move my hands to her exposed shoulders and trace the thin strap resting on her collarbone. She leans back against me and rests her head against my chest, swaying side to side with the music. Her hair is soft, so fucking soft as I push it off her shoulder and bare her neck. A rich mix of cinnamon and orange penetrates my senses, making my mouth water with the need to drag my tongue over her pulse point and taste every inch of her. A thought that should seem ridiculous, considering I don’t even know her name.
“I would have remembered a body like yours,” I mumble and spin her around to face me. My breath catches in my throat when the same silver eyes from outside fall on me, this time half hidden by her droopy lids and thick eyelashes. I swallow my groan. “Or maybe I didn’t.”
Her eyes don’t waver from surprise—not like mine. Instead, she presses her hands against my chest, fingers spread wide. I can’t help but wonder if she recognizes me. If she does, I would assume from the attitude she had outside that she wouldn’t be letting herself touch me or vice versa. But she is. And I would be lying if I said I wasn’t hoping that she remembers exactly who I am.
As she keeps her palms flush against my stiff abdominal muscles, I feel my brows raise, intrigued and unbearably captivated by the stunning siren in front of me. Her eyes fall when her touch begins moving up my chest, and heat engulfs my groin as she watches her own movements. She scratches at my t-shirt with white-tipped nails, exploring my chest, moving her hands over my pecs and to my collarbone before eventually wrapping her hands around the back of my neck, fingers looping aggressively in my hair. Her eyes raise to meet mine again. She oozes confidence, and I can feel my underwear stick to the moisture collecting on the tip of my dick.