Page 9 of Three Meows

With a bounce in my step, I fell into dancing, finding joy in the press of bodies rubbing against each other. While the borders of propriety were always thin on a dance floor, with the addition of the fluorescent paint they seemed to be blown away. A pretty girl put the first streak on me, a blue line down my arm, then a man left smears of pink on my blue leggings as he pressed his own paint-coated legs against mine when we danced together. By the third person, I wasn’t even sure who was putting which color where. The paint transferred easily and my own touches spread it as well, as I lost myself in the thrill of dancing and unstoppable human contact.

When Chester found me I was almost completely covered in green, blue, red, pink, and yellow splotches. The golden retriever of a man walked… no, wait,stalkedtowards me, cutting through the throngs of people, uncaring that he was forcing his way between dancing couples. I shot him a grin over my shoulder as I grooved with my current partner.

I didn’t get a smile in return.

Instead, my dancing partner cursed softly and backed away from me. Chester’s glare was fascinating and apparently powerful.

This wasn’t the always happy and ridiculous golden retriever I knew. Right now, Chester was a wolf on a hunt.

I felt that on my own skin as he herded me to the edge of the dance floor and pressed me against one of the big circularpillars. The stone was cold against my back as Chester leaned close enough to be heard over the pounding music.

“You let everyone touch you,” he sneered. “Dirty little girl. I was the one supposed to mark you and now there’s no space on your body free from the touch of others.”

Chester may not be nice now, but he was still as intense as always. Everything the redhead felt he felt strongly and apparently that translated to jealousy. The green-eyed monster had him firmly in his grasp and I basked in my success.

In a great mood, I let myself relax in his possessive grasp.

“There is. A space no one else has touched,” I clarified at his look. “Put the paint on your fingers.”

Chester glared at me as if he wasn’t sure if he could trust my new scheme but took the little jar of red paint from his pocket and coated the fingers of his right hand with it.

My throat bobbed as I swallowed before reaching for his wrist and directing his hand to where he could mark me.

“There,” I said. “Touch me.”

His fingers slid not only under my crop top but under the sports bra I wore as well. His body moved closer as he used his bulk to hide what we were doing, to hide me from the eyes of others as his thumb circled my nipple and I hid a gasp in the crook of his neck.

“Hmm, maybe I will forgive you for letting those undeserving people touch you. Now, tell me, where else can I touch you?”

“Greedy!” I laughed, then moaned as he cupped my breast with his whole hand. “Who said you can touch anywhere else?”

“Then I have to make the best of what I am given.”

“Ah!”

The fucker pinched my nipple! The tremor of lust that shot through my body was too much. And my exclamation was loud enough that some guy was looking at us with wide eyes now. Flushing, I pulled Chester’s hand from under my crop top.

Despite our play time being cut short he still looked smugly satisfied.

“You tired of the dancing yet? Elijah wanted to try some of those radioactive looking drinks,” he said.

“Let’s find him,” I nodded. “I find myself quite… thirsty.”

“I bet you are,” Chester said with a cheerful grin. Ah, there it was, the cute doggo back in the place of the dangerous wolf.

On our way over to the bar I looked Chester over and then it was my time for a smug grin.

“I see my little prompt worked,” I said, gesturing at the hundreds of small and big hearts decorating Chester’s arms, face, and even clothes. The others may have followed my work after saying the scribbled ‘give me your heart’, but I was the first one to draw a blue heart right under the prompt.

“It made finding you harder when people stopped me to draw hearts on me,” Chester pouted. “I’m sure it was all a part of your dastardly plan.”

“Ha, at least one of you recognizes I can be an evil mastermind!” I beamed.

We found our companions near the bar when Elijah waved us over to their table. It had one of those circular couches and I was promptly squished between rambunctious Chester and sheepish Elijah.

“Got tired of the dancing already?” I asked.

Rowan shrugged, which I interpreted as ‘I could keep going all night’ and Elijah winced. I zeroed in on that last reaction, my brow raising questioningly.

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