Page 40 of Asking For a Friend

“You’ll be fighting them off.”

After checking them for drinks, I head over to the bar. “Eight tequila shots, please.”

A hand runs down my back, and fingers tug on the laces, then brush over the thin strip of bare flesh above my waistband. “Can I get those for you?” a husky voice whispers.

I glance sideways. The man is exactly what I’m looking for tonight, but not yet. I want my buzz on and catch some tunes before I pick my fun for the night. “Maybe later.” I wink at him and hand over the cash to the barman.

“I’ll hold you to that.” He strokes over my arse and cups one cheek with a firm squeeze.

It doesn’t take long for the alcohol to hit. I jump up and skip to the dance floor. Every song seems to be made for my mood, and when Driia’s ‘Love Me, Leave Me Alone’ starts, I sway from side to side, my arms above my head. The bright-coloured lights pulse in time to the heavy bass, over and around the throbbing crowd of male bodies. The sweat on bare skin glows orange, red, and blue. Sex fills the air as bodies touch, lips meet lips, hands roam over tight fabric-covered arses offering promises of more, of better things to come. The firm grip of wide hands halts me for a second, but then I grind back into the stomach of the taller man behind me. Warm breath ghosts over my nape and ear.

“I think it’s later now, don’t you?”

Ah, hot man! I spin around. The song changes to ‘Love Sex Magic’, and oh boy, he’s gorgeous, exactly my type—about ten years older than me, built and dominating. His dark eyes look more demanding than lustful, and his touch is firm. Maybe a little too hard for comfort. Yet after my revelation earlier in the week, he’s also my kryptonite and out to destroy me. With a soft stroke down his tight black T-shirt, which shows off his firm muscles, I shake my head and dance away from him and towards Connor.

“I thought you’d climb him like a tree!” he shouts at me.

“I’ve made an early New Year resolution. No more older men. They’re not good for me.” He nods, grabs my hands, and twirls me around. I dance with my back to his front. At least there’s no chance of his dick getting hard as I grind into him. We do, however, catch the eye of many of the men, and soon Connor is nabbed by a man who’s definitely his type. With a grin and a wave, I dance back to our table. Someone is sitting with Scottie, their heads close together, so I can’t see who it is. Scottie lifts his head and barks out a laugh. I freeze.

It's the blond guy who has been with Hesketh the two times I’ve seen him out. Is he here too? I scour the room for him. He won’t be too far from his friend. Unless he’s back with the cute ginger again. God, I need a drink. I dash to the bar.

“Lando!” Scottie shouts out, and I stop, then slowly turn around. Scottie hurries to me and grasps my shoulders. “He’s not here, mate. Dylan’s here with me.”

I didn’t know Scottie was seeing anyone. I’m pleased for him. He’s a great guy and deserves to be with someone. “I didn’t know you were with someone. Good for you.”

“It’s early days, but I like him. Come back and meet him.”

“I will. Let me get a drink first. Do you want anything?”

He shakes his head and returns to Dylan, who’s followed our exchange with a frown. The bar is heaving, and I squeeze through all the bodies hanging around. When I make it to the solid wood bar that’s already sticky with spilt liquor, I shout out my order to the barman. As I wait, I feel eyes on me, a tingling between my shoulder blades. I scan the crowd, but nobody strikes me as threatening. After thanking the barman, I take my glass and look for an easier way out, preferably with my drink intact.

As I make it through, a hand clenches my upper arm in a firm grip that borders on painful. Wrenching my arm free, I glare at the man responsible. The hot guy who tried to dance with me. He takes hold of my wrist.

“You should be spanked for the way you led me on. Although you look like you’d like that,” he snarls. “Little tarts like you shouldn’t tease the big boys and expect to get away with it.”

He’s dangerous. Anger is pouring off him, and what the fuck is he talking about? When have I ever been fucking spanked? The memory of Michael and the fooling around and role-playing flashes through my head. Hell, that was years ago. It was fun, but not for me. It was one of the nails in the coffin of our relationship.

“Get your hand off me and fuck off,” I snap back. “You’re barking up the wrong tree.”

“Hmm, I don’t think so. Maybe I should take you out back and show you.”

“I think he told you to fuck off.” The voice is behind me. Hesketh. Scottie told me he wasn’t here. Did he lie?

“Who the fuck are you?” The guy doesn’t release me. I’m going to have a bruise from his grip.

More people are paying attention to what’s happening. Heads are turning. Frowns form on the faces. “Oi, mate, let him go,” one says. Others join in.

With one last painful squeeze, he jerks his arm, finally letting me go. A bouncer comes up behind the hateful man and puts a hand on his shoulder. “Time to go, mate. You’ve been told before. You’re out, barred. Don’t come back.”

“Are you okay?” the one who joined in asks. He gestures at my wrist, which I’m rubbing. “That’s going to bruise.”

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks for stepping in.”

“No worries.” He walks back to his friends.

I spin around. Where has Hesketh gone? It was definitely him, but he’s disappeared. Scottie elbows his way to me, Connor hot on his heels. “What the hell, Lando? Who was that jerk?”

“No one. Just some arsehole who doesn’t believe no means no.” They lead me back to the table, and Connor puts a shot in my hand. I down it with a shudder. “I thought you said he wasn’t here.”

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