Page 26 of Wild Stars

The dungeons call to me, my twitching palm.

Down in the Sinner’s playground, I can breathe.

Up here, with Hailee, Geo...

With Dare rolling his hips, throwing his head back with a stupid ass grin while he lets strangerstouchhim...

I feel powerless.

“Where are you going, Matty?”Dare asks as I head for the bar.

Champagne isn’t going to cut it this time.I need something stronger.

Something that will make me not give a shit.

I don’t bother answering him, not until his hand is wrapped around my wrist, warm and moist against my skin.I stop at the steps and turn around, shaking his touch from me, even though I hate it.

I hate that Ilikehis warmth.

I hate that just that small fucking touch makes me feelbetter.

“What’s wrong?Did I do something wrong?”he asks, those dark pleading puppy dog eyes pulling my heartstrings.

Heart Killeris more than an appropriate name for Dare fucking Wylde.Because damn if am not bleeding from his fucking sweetness, hungry for a fucking bite.

“No,” I say as my jaw tenses.“I just need a fucking drink.”

Dare furrows his eyebrows.“Then let me buy you a drink, man.It’s the least I can do.I mean, you got us in here, got the damn VIP...”

I know I should say no.

I should turn Dare around and push him toward the little twink who would probably give him everything he needs for a good song.

But something about his eyes, his pouty lips, his dark, silky hair falling across his shoulders kills any resistance.

I fight the desire to reach out and run my hands through it.

This is a bad, bad idea.

“Fine.”I give in as I try to find my ground.“One drink.”

* * *

The lights areblue and white, and everything is a blur.

An endless blur of drinks and bodies, and heat.So much fucking heat.

I slide my fingers over the hands that grip my waist as I close my eyes.I let them guide me, guide us, in rhythm.Usually, I refrain from the dance floor because I’ve never been much of a club-goer.

But there’s something blissfully wonderful about not knowing anyone’s name when the lights are burning down on you.At least, for me.

Though their touch isn’t warm and it doesn’t make my cock twitch, combined with the drinks I’ve had, it’s enough to level me.It’s enough todistract me.To make me...

Normal, I guess.

I rock back and forth as I open my eyes, watching the stage.

At some point, we all gravitated toward the front for the nightly Angel’s performance set.

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