Page 14 of The Promises We Break

This is the most liquor I’ve ever had in my entire life. But if people are watching me get a lap dance from either one of these men, I’ll need to drink the rest of that bottle to get through it.

We stare at each other for a brief moment, neither one of us believing this is actually happening, and for some reason, neither one of us can hold back a genuine smile. We clink our glasses together with a silent toast before shooting back the clear liquid. The burn doesn’t feel so bad anymore. Not surprising, since my entire body is already on fire, thanks to the man sitting next to me.

I snag the empty glass from him, toss both back to Dana, then sit upright and face forward. Hudson does the same, except reaches over and grabs the top of my hand, interlaces his fingers between mine, then places it back on top of his leg.

Just then, Kilo screams into the mic. “Amateur Night!” Accentuating the word ‘night’ into a long, breathy word.

And our faces drop. Hudson’s eyes widen, as he gives himself a neck fracture, turning to look at the dancers, who are throwing their hands up and down in the air, trying to get the crowd even rowdier than they already are.

Placing his fingers on his forehead, he massages the area before running his palm down his face. Over his eyes, his nose, then landing on his mouth. He’s deep in thought, his eyes bouncing between the crowd, the dancers, his friends, then me.

And he just stares at me.

Into me.

Through me.

This desire deepens in his chocolate pools, turning nearly black with flashing emotions of fear and lust. A determination that wasn’t there before shines through.

The lights dim andAnywhere by 112begins to play throughout the open space.

Suddenly, he stands up, kicking his chair, and it goes flying back toward the side of the stage. He wraps his arms around me, gripping the back of my chair, swinging it around so I’m facing the back of the stage.

Radiant colors stream from the small sources of light that remain, bouncing off the small windows, and I can see the glass vibrating with the beat of the music. The slow sensual sound makes my pulse raise and heart bump harder than the rumbling of the bass.

I quickly realize that my strapless pantsuit was the best outfit choice tonight as opposed to the skirt that Sara wanted me to wear, because Hudson pulls my hands away from the tight grip they had on the chair before sliding his face… into my lap. Then he places my hands on the back of his head as he spreads my legs open and nuzzles into my center. Although the back of my head is facing the crowd, I can’t help but tear my hands away from his hair to cover my face.

“Oh, no you don’t, little red.”

He looks up at me, taking a hold of my wrists, then pulls my hands back down. A playful smile crosses his face, and as he drags my hands down, his body, slowly—so sexually—transcends up. His lips are now a whisper away from mine. There’s a hefty pause as the music beats through us and his eyes flicker down to my lips.

My heart manages a flutter, somehow, between the heavy thumping against my ribcage.

I don’t have a ton of experience with men, but I know he wants to kiss me.

He releases a long breath before abandoning that idea.

“Hold on to me.” He swings my arms on either side of his head, and I grip his shoulders and neck. Grabbing my hips, he easily draws me up to him, and naturally, my legs wrap around his waist. His touch is gentle, yet assertive, and when he pulls me flush against him, I instantly feel his hard length.

My eyes widen as does his smile, and then he freaking hip bumps me with a wink.

Spinning us around, he sits down on the chair that still faces away from the crowd, forcing me to straddle him. Fortunately, it’s still dark, and as I peer over his head, I can’t see faces, just silhouettes of people. So many people.

“Now, ride me,” he growls in my ear.

Squeezing my eyes shut, urgently shaking my head as I nuzzle into his neck, feeling shy and exposed. “I can’t,” I whisper.

Removing his hands from my hips, he places them over each of my ears, stifling the noise, causing me to open my eyes and pull back to look at him.

“Ignore them. It’s just me and you.” I peer into his passionate, lustful eyes as they swallow me whole. “It’s just us,” he whispers over my lips before crashing them together.

Oh, God. He tastes like cinnamon, cranberries, and sin. Imoan into his mouth at both the taste and the touch of his tongue running over mine. My hips take on a mind of their own, rolling into him, back and forth, circling in a punishing rhythm.

“Fuck, yes. Keep going,” he moans into my mouth.

Jesus, this pantsuit was far too expensive for the fabric to be so goddamn thin.

I feel everything.

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