Page 38 of The Mirage Guild

“What? Here?” I swallowed, darting my eyes around the table. No one was paying us an ounce of attention. All eyes were on Jules and Maureen on the dance floor, the older woman absolutely cutting it up out there.

Max stood at my side, shadowing my body with his large frame. He placed his hand at my elbow and leaned in again, “Slide your panties down and give them to me.” His voice was a gentle command. One he wouldn’t hold me to if I truly didn’t want to, but the fluttering in my belly told me that maybe I did.

I glanced around again before snaking one hand up my dress through the slit at my thigh. My fingers wrapped around the thin strap of my lace thong, and I tugged. The movement was awkward and slow, but Max kept me hidden with the angle of my body. I kept one hand on my glass for balance, and finally, the fabric was nearly to my knees.

With one final look, I bent over, pretending to fix the strap of my heels as I subtly lifted each foot off the ground to step out of the fabric, bunched it up in my hands, and pushed it into Max’s hands. His large palm swallowed my panties in an instant as he slid them into his pocket.

“That’s my good girl,” Max whispered in my ear, my hair blowing slightly as he spoke.

Fuck. Tonight was going to be interesting.

“Okay! Everyone out on the dance floor!” Jules came screaming up to their tables. “And no excuses, it’s my birthday. You’re legally obligated to dance.”

She gripped my hand and dragged me out with her. I felt a wave of panic, suddenly sure everyone could tell I wasn’t wearing any underwear. One glance back at the table, with pleading eyes, only resulted in Max raising his glass in the air to me and smiling.

Jules led a storm of energy, her very being seeming to emit beams of ecstasy that painted everyone around me with a vibrant euphoria. I, hand-in-hand with her, couldn’t help but be swept up in the wave of delight, my own laughter mingling with the joyous cacophony around us. The neon lights painted the dance floor in dynamic strokes of color, flickering in sync with the pulsating beats that guided our sways and shimmies.

Dancing amidst the jubilation, I felt a lightness I hadn’t in ages buoy my spirits, challenging the shadow of doubt that lingered from days spent wondering if I was too old for this. Each step, twirl, and playful push from Jules seemed to whisper, “Age is just a number,” but the whisper was a fighter, battling against the louder, harsher critique that often echoed in the quieter moments of my life. Here, in the whirlwind of music and laughter, I let the free and spirited Izzy take center stage, if only for the night, pushing the nagging voice to the backseat.

Jules spun around me, tiara glittering, and I couldn’t contain a burst of playful energy. I danced with abandon, arms flailing melodically to the thud of the bass, body swaying in harmony with the music. We were in a world of our own, where everything that sat on our to-do lists or running through our over-anxious minds could simmer.

Looking back at our tables, I caught Max’s eye. I crooked my finger and beckoned him over. I raised an eyebrow when he didn’t get up. Here I was, no panties, on the dance floor. The least he could do was join me. He downed his glass and made his way through the crowd.

I threw my head back and laughed as he shimmied his way through the other dancers, his hips moving to the beat. He was in a dark t-shirt and jeans tonight, and I desperately wanted to run my hands down his forearms. I glanced at his waist, remembering what we’d done not long ago.

Leaning in, my voice barely audible above the beats, I teased, “Thought you’d be too mature for a dance floor, Boss.”

Max’s lips quirked into that signature half-smile, a glint of playful defiance lighting his eyes. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Isabella,” he murmured, his words a melodic whisper that somehow found my ears amidst the chaos.

“Hmmm, I think that’s probably true,” I said.

Max’s movements were fluid, a seamless transition from motion to motion that mirrored the tranquility that emanated from him. He spun me out, my world expanding into an orbit of lights and sounds, and then pulled my back, anchoring me once more. In the neon glow, boundaries blurred, and for a fleeting moment, everything was possible.

As more people joined the dance floor, bodies squeezed closer. Everyone seemed to be in their own world. Which is why I didn’t mind when Max brought me close to his chest and kept me there. It’s why I didn’t turn away when I felt his hardness press against my backside. And it’s the only excuse I had for why I didn’t flinch when I felt his large hand find my thigh through the slit of my dress.

Under the cover of the dim dance floor, Max trailed his fingers up, and up, and up. I heard him hiss in my ear as his fingers grazed the wetness waiting for him.

“Fuck, Isabella, what am I going to do about you?” he asked. I hoped his question was rhetorical.

He slid his fingers up and down my middle, coating the tips of them with my arousal. Our bodies kept swaying to the music, and our eyes focused in order to maintain our cover. Max held me up with one arm, letting me lean on him as we danced, but the other hand kept up its dirty work between my legs.

I wasn’t sure there was an end goal in mind here, especially as Max kept lazily tracing my middle and softly circling my clit. It was as though he couldn’t not touch me. My breath became heavy, my chest warming.

And just as I considered saying fuck it and pulling Max back down the dark hallway, he trailed his fingers down my inner thigh and removed his hand from under my dress. I turned as he slid two of his fingers into his mouth, and I thought I just might die right there on the dance floor.

We danced through more songs, and I somehow let Jules convince me to do lemon drop shots with the group. Nat and I squealed as songs from our prep school days blared through the speakers and we threw our hands in the air wildly as we bounced around the floor. Sweat was making my hair stick to my temples and my feet were aching, but I hadn’t had this much fun in ages.

Before long, our group started to break up, Nat shouting her goodbye from the other side of the dance floor, waving wildly. Nat gave me a look that I knew to mean you good? I smiled reassuringly and hoped Nat hadn’t caught any of Max’s dance floor shenanigans from earlier.

At one point, Max left the dance floor and huddled up with Dom and Liam, while the rest of the crew kept at it on the dance floor. After Maureen, Jessie, and Reagan all called it quits, I started to feel the tightness in my hips.

My feet were sore, my hair a sweaty mess, and my ears pulsed with the beats of the music. I’d downed about three too many shots with the birthday girl, and now I was ready for the comfort of my bed.

I stumbled a bit as I let myself out of the girl’s bathroom, a damp paper towel pressed to my neck. I felt cold hands wrap around my waist, gripping my hips tightly as they tried to steer me back to the dance floor.

I expected to see Max or at least Dom, but I didn’t know who this was. “Come on, honey, let’s go dance.” The stranger’s voice was slow and thick, no doubt from the vodka in his hand.

I tried to push away. “No thanks, I’m going to head out.”

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