Page 70 of One Little Lie
In slow motion, she lifts her arms to wrap them around dickhead’s neck, and they move as one. I feel like a voyeur. I’m hanging on to my bottle so tightly I’m surprised it doesn’t shatter, but even as she dances, her gaze never leaves mine.
She’s fucking with me, and I’m completely powerless to stop her.
If I don’t get out of here soon, I’m going to end up in jail. The guy behind her wraps an arm around her belly. He splays his hand low on her stomach, pulling her back into his front, and a feral growl escapes from deep in my throat. I’m crossing the dance floor without a thought of my next move. Parting the sea of people to get to her pisses me off. If it had taken one second longer, I might have started throwing elbows.
“Get your hands off her.” Anger radiates out of my every pore.
“Listen, man. We’re just dancing,” he smartly replies while putting some distance between us. I never give him a second look.
“We’re leaving. Now,” I growl.
“Have fun. I’ll see you at home.”
I gape at her. Does she seriously think I’m going to leave her here alone?
“I’m not leaving you here.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice both men fading into the crowd.
“Then dance with me.”
I take a step back.
“Dance with me, or I’m going to find someone who will.”
My body shifts, reaching for her before I can think better of it.
“Are you threatening me, sweetheart?”
“A threat would imply you have something to lose. Do you have something to lose, Hatty?”
Bastille’s “Distorted Light Beam” filters through the overhead speakers as the lights dim low. It’s a dark and dangerous beat, but it’s the words that obliterate my resolve.
Stepping into her space until our bodies collide, I place my hands on her hips and position her flush against me. Soft curves meld into hard planes, and my hips gyrate in time to the angry beat pulsing through my veins.
The tightness in my body ratchets up to near unbearable levels, tension radiating from every muscle. But my mind, so used to the looming chaos and anxiety, quiets as our bodies fuse together. The near constant war inside of my head bleeds into my heart when I have her in my arms. The fear, the panic? It all subsides and rolls into a most basic need to claim her. That’s the only explanation I have for the words that fall from my lips next.
“I’ve already lost everything that made me whole. Forcing my hand like this will leave me a shell of a man. Is that what you want?”
Her shocked gasp hits the crook of my neck as I part her legs with my thigh. The closer I get to her, the calmer my body and soul become. I swear, the cure for my weakness resides within her. Snaking my hand to her lower back, I hold her ass tightly against my leg as we move to the song that feels as if it were written for this one moment in time.
“You haven’t lost anything, Hatty.”
“You’re wrong.” I groan when her belly shifts and it presses against my erection. “I’m in hell. That’s what this is. Are you trying to punish me, Rylan? I hurt you, so you’re hurting me back by forcing me to watch other guys put their hands all over you?”
I move us roughly to the music, and I almost come in my pants.
“No, Hatty. Not at all. I just want you to open your eyes and see.” Her tongue darts out and gently caresses my ear.
“See what? What I can’t have? How fucking miserable—”
Rylan’s hands weave into my hair, and she pulls me down. Our lips crash together almost violently. When she nips my bottom lip, I open to her. She wastes no time entering my mouth as my hands tighten on her hips. I have no thoughts of consequences or our surroundings. Not when she fucks me with her tongue until a little whimper escapes her throat and she pulls back.
“No. I want you to see me, Hatty. Us. I want you.” She grinds against my cock to prove her point. “Tell me you don’t want me. Tell me you don’t feel this.” She rubs against me again, and I have to still her hips before I rip off all her clothes in front of everyone.
I’ve never hurt so much in my life. It’s like my heart is being ripped out of my chest, and I’m just standing here watching it bleed out. “It’s not about what I want, Rylan. I’ve always wanted you. I can’t have you. You’re not mine to keep.”
Tears well in her eyes. Fear that I’ve finally pushed her away for the final time, and relief that I may have pushed her away for the final time, take turns punching me in the nutsack. “I’m so sorry—”
