Page 59 of Moonshot

Pulling up to the curb down the street from the club, I park and try to calm my breathing as I head for the door. I’ll just look for Trevor and act like I was supposed to be here all the time. It’s not that I don’t trust her. But Trevor’s description of the jackass she’s with has me on edge. I don’t want anyone pulling any fast moves on my girl.

Handing a ten-dollar bill to the door attendant, I get the customary hand stamp and head inside. It doesn’t take long after I arrive to locate a group of men who look like they could each star on American Ninja Warrior. Or a firefighter calendar.

“Michael, over here.” Trevor summons me to the end of the group closest to the bar. “Let me get you a drink.”

“Yeah, just one. Probably should keep my wits about me.”

As if sensing my next question, Trevor pivots and points his beer bottle in the direction of a corner booth. Seated there are my strong-willed snow queen, another attractive female, and a built-looking guy with a nearly bald head. He’s attractive and has a relaxed way about him. There’s no domineering presence. He’s not leaning in, appearing to put the moves on her. Upon further inspection, he resembles the guy Ava was with in front of Fuji’s the other evening.

“Here you go,” Trevor says, handing me a cold one.

“How long have you guys been here?”

“Not too long, about an hour. Ava and the guy were here before us. Her friend, Eve, came with her brothers, Tate and Tanner.” Trevor points to two identical appearing men before taking a pull from his amber bottle.

Casually peering toward Ava’s table, attempting to conceal my presence, I note this player she’s with seems to be spending more time checking out Eve than my girl. Shifting my stance, I notice Ava is wearing a short little black number. Her skirt barely covers the top of her creamy thighs as she sits in the booth. Despite her tall height, she’s wearing fuck hot black stilettos that make her legs look even shapelier. If that’s possible.

Feeling myself growing hard at the sight of her, I realize I need to make a decision. I’m either going to trust her and walk away or end up doing something that could cost me everything. What I really want to do is go over and tell him whatever he’s thinking, it’s fucking not happening.

I’m unable to focus on a thing Trevor is saying, my mind distracting me as I go to war with myself.Just go over there and act like it’s a total coincidence you’re here. You’re likely to get arrested if he says anything you don’t like, and you knock his lights out.

Suddenly, baldy stands up and walks over to Ava. Taking a sip of my beer, I watch as he leans down to whisper something in her ear. As he stands to his full height, she starts to converse with Eve, and he walks away. My curiosity is killing me.Lord, please don’t let me fuck this up.

“I’m going over,” I tell Trevor.

Looking toward the table, he replies, “You sure? Want me to keep an eye out in case he comes back?”

“No. I’ve got it. I won’t stay long.” Just go over and get a feel for the situation. Make sure she knows what’s at stake. Then leave. I take another long sip of my beer and then place it on the bar before heading in Ava’s direction. Placing my hands in my pockets to calm the fuck down, I walk over slowly and deliberately.

Ava

“Ava, why the hell didn’t you tell me your cousin was hot as shit?”

“Don’t really think of him like that.” I shrug.

Eve’s giving me a deadpan stare. “Hello. It’s me. Haven’t gotten any for months, and holy hell in a handbasket, I bet that guy could-”

“I honestly don’t want that mental imagery, thank you.” I giggle at Eve. “Besides, your brothers would kill you if you hooked up with Carson. He’s got a reputation. Heck, he’s picked up girls when he’s been out to dinner with me.”

“Well, I’m not looking to marry the-” Eve stops her sentence short, causing me to look up from my gin and tonic to see what’s happened.

My eyes widen as I see Mick standing at our table, hands in his pockets, short sleeve black shirt revealing the delicious ink on his chorded arms. Before I can address him, he sits down beside me, wrapping one arm over my shoulders. I want to protest. He’s supposed to be giving me space while he makes sure he can have a healthy, committed relationship. But my body starts to tremble at his nearness.

He curls his body into me, and I feel his warm hand land on my upper thigh. Glancing over at Eve, who’s wearing the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen, I try to keep my cool. I’m supposed to be calling the shots here. Not him. I try to ignore him. Act like his presence in no way affects me. Lifting my glass to my lips, I notice his warm hand is now skating up my thigh and under my skirt. With this move, I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from squealing. I can’t give away how many times I’ve yearned to feel his strong fingers there, stroking me again.

My stare returns to Eve, who is lifting her martini glass to her mouth. As she sips, her smile resembles a Cheshire cat. I nearly gasp as his fingers graze my clit.

“How’s my girl?” he moans in my ear. What is he doing here anyway? “You being a good girl for me, Ava?” Unsure what this game is he’s playing, I just keep my stare fixed on Eve, who I notice is peering about the bar. Probably looking for Carson. Abruptly, I feel my panties move to the side as he slides his finger through my folds. A moan almost escapes as he glides it back and forth through my wetness, teasing my clit with each stroke. Lifting my glass to my mouth, I bite down on the skinny plastic red cocktail straw to prevent groaning.

“Sorry about that, ladies.” I see Carson slide onto the seat across from me just as Mick withdraws his finger. The table is completely silent. Everyone staring at Mick. This is so awkward. Just as I think I should introduce him to everyone, he lifts his hand from under the table and starts to draw circles in the condensation of my cocktail glass.

Looking across the table, I notice Carson and Eve having their own silent conversation with one another. Except, unlike Mick’s new language, all four of their hands are clearly visible on top of the table. My eyes flick to Mick, who’s concentrating on his water painting as if he’s the star of a private art gallery showing. Inspecting the drawing more closely, I notice he’s drawn three circles on top of each other with stick figure arms.

Biting into the flesh of my lower lip to prevent laughing, I try to make eye contact, acknowledging his primitive Olaf artwork just as he lifts his finger into his mouth. The same finger, I’m certain, that was teasing my clit moments ago.

A little gasp escapes before I can stop it, attracting the attention of my table mates. My attempt to collect myself is thwarted as he stands, nods, and walks away.Holy shit.

“Ava. Was that?”

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