Page 68 of Heal Me

His smile is brighter than a thousand-watt light bulb and makes my heart race a little faster. “Yes, please.” I take another sip of my ale and reluctantly hand it to Astrid. “Don’t drink it.” Grabbing Jocelin’s hand, I lead him down the stairs and onto the dance floor. When I look back, Astrid takes a sip of my beer and laughs. I shoot her a scowl, but Jocelin bounces excitedly and starts moving to the music. As promised, I manage a passable shuffle. Jocelin closes his eyes, sinking into the music, swaying seductively. His body is like liquid energy, pulsing with the heavy base, primal in his movements. I’m captivated. My pulse races, and I step closer, drawn to him like a moth to a flame. A few other men turn to watch and I scowl, growling a warning, even if they can’t hear it. Jocelin isn’t my property, but hell yes, I’m marking my territory, and growling at them is better than pissing on them. I’m almost certain Jocelin would agree. As if he can sense I’m thinking about him, he opens his beautiful eyes and smiles, utterly happy and completely focused on me. My hackles lower.

Stef, Josie, and Astrid join us on the dance floor, laughing and encouraging each other to more outrageous moves. Stef has several admirers, and so many people hug them and say hello, I wonder how Blake feels about it. When I glance over, he’s watching Stef but he’s smiling, and relaxed. Not at all jealous. Maybe that’s the benefit of age, but I don’t have that in me.

I turn back to the group in time to see my sister and Stef doing some kind of semi-choreographed moves. Astrid took years of dance classes and loves getting out and showing off. Stef obviously has training as well. I can’t tell if Josie ever took dance, but she definitely holds her own. No one can accuse this crew of hating attention.

I touch Jocelin’s arm, gesturing to myself and then to the spot near the downstairs bar, where Tom, Quinn, and Gary have staked out a spot. Joce is in the capable hands of his friends, so I don’t feel guilty about leaving him. He nods, pulling me down for a quick kiss, and I slip away. As I approach Gary, he hands me my ale and nods toward the dance floor. “You haven’t told him yet?”

I scowl. “My sister needs to keep her big mouth shut.”

Gary smirks and points to his chest. “Boyfriend. I get to know everything.” He nods toward our friends. “Looks like a few people have noticed them.” I whip my head around and scope out the crowd, my eyes immediately drawn to Jocelin. He’s beautiful on a normal day, and tonight, lost to the music, he’s stunning. He’s giving fluid, sweet, happy energy, with a definite undercurrent of smoking hot. And there are three guys sniffing around the group.Thisis why I hate clubbing. There are always feral dogs cruising for fresh meat.

They don’t make any moves, so I stay where I am and watch as Jocelin and our friends dance to a few more songs. Astrid eventually takes a break while Quinn and Tadhg join the others on the dance floor.

We’ve only been here about an hour when the feel of the crowd changes. A particularly beat-heavy song starts playing, and one of the guys who’s been hovering around Jocelin makes his move. I growl but stay put. Jocelin is a big boy and can handle himself. He’s also with our friends, and I trust them to keep each other safe. Astrid nudges me, grinning like she knows what’s bothering me. “You gonna stand there and let that creep horn in on your man? Or are you gonna do something about it?”

I glare daggers at the guy but hesitate, not wanting to make a scene. The creep reaches for Joce, and before I know it, I’m handing Astrid my drink. “So much for keeping things a secret. But fuck it.”

Astrid’s smile widens, and she claps her hands. “Yes! Go get ’em, baby brother! Show them your moves!”

35

Jocelin

Themusiciselectrifying,the beat thumping in my chest, and I let the rhythm move me. I’m energized, alive like I haven’t felt in weeks, and I can’t stop smiling. It would be nice if Gunnar would dance more, even if it’s just his little shuffle, but dancing isn’t everyone’s joy, and he arranged this whole thing for me. I’m beyond thrilled about that, and Gunnar did dance with me. That means something.

Someone bumps into me, which isn’t surprising, given how packed the dance floor is. I look over my shoulder, smiling an apology, but the guy must misinterpret my meaning. He moves closer, looming into my space in a way that makes me immediately uncomfortable. He’s taller than my five foot eleven, and he obviously works out. He reaches for me and I step away, but he follows, trying to grind against me. He makes a grab for my hips, and I step back again, shaking my head. “I’m here with someone.”

He smiles, but his gaze is more predator than friend. “I don’t see anyone. C’mon, beautiful. Dance with me.” As the current song ebbs, blending into the opening notes of Rihanna’s S&M, the guy grins, reaching for me again. This time, I turn toward the bar, ready to leave—and stop moving for the first time since stepping onto the dance floor. Gunnar is stalking toward us, with a pissed off look on his face. No, I’m wrong. Stalking isn’t quite the right word. There’s way too much swagger in his step for that… and is he actually striding toward us on beat? He meets my gaze, eyes devouring me, owning me, and good god, it’s so damned hot. I’m mesmerized, my heart pounding louder than the music, and I can’t look anywhere but at him.

He slides between the creepy guy and me, rolling his hips to the music and running his hands across his own chest, stroking his body like some Magic Mike dancer. My eyes drop to his hips as he seductively strokes his hands over his thighs before sliding upward. He slips his fingers into his hair, flexing, showing off his massive biceps and pecs before reaching for the back of his shirt. My mouth goes dry, and I swear I forget how to breathe. Shit,he’s not going to…

Gunnar pulls the tight gray tee over his head and tosses it at me with a wink, his hips continuing to roll seductively. I’m so hard right now, it’s making me a bit dizzy. Unashamedly, I gawk at the now naked expanse of tight muscles as he dances closer, his focus solely on me, as if no one else is in the club. I lick my lips and toss the shirt to Tadhg before stepping into Gunnar’s space. I need to touch him, stroke his bare skin and trace the tattoos that move with his tight, gorgeous body. Fuck, he’s sex personified, his hips surging with the beat, his delicious scent filling my nose and calling me like the most potent musk. I swear, I’m going to lose my mind. Or come. Possibly both.

Gunnar grabs my hand, pulling me roughly against his chest, fondling my ass as he rolls our hips together. I groan and caress his pecs as his hard cock grinds against mine. He grins wickedly, flipping me around, grinding against my ass as his hand slides down my abs to cup my cock, giving it a light squeeze as he pulls me tighter against him. When Gunnar’s other hand snakes up my torso, circling my throat, hips still gyrating against me, I really do think I’m going to come. I close my eyes and inhale, trying to calm my impulse to drag him off to a dark corner and fuck. His lips tease the sensitive spot on my neck, and I moan, tilting my head to the side. I’m not expecting the bite or the surge of lust that almost buckles my knees. He sucks and licks the spot as he strokes me through my jeans, our hips rolling to the beat. Bodies writhe around us as the song thumps out a primal rhythm. Gunnar fills all of my senses, and god I want him.

I slide my hand over my body and up his neck to weave into his hair, stroking the other down his arm until my hand covers the one cupping my cock. I lean against his broad chest, letting him lead. He controls how we move and where we go. I grind against his palm, and his mouth settles against my ear, his warm breath teasing my skin. “You’re mine.” He squeezes my cock, making me groan with pleasure. He growls in my ear. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” His possessiveness is a live wire connected directly to my balls, sending jolts of pleasure zipping through me. Possessiveness never did it for me before, but this is Gunnar, and I trust him. And that makes all the difference.

The song melds into the sultry beat of Tov Lo’s Talking Body. Gunnar spins me around again, pulling me against his chest, one hand in the center of my back and the other on my ass. We grind to the sensual rhythm, and I completely surrender to Gunnar’s seductive movements, letting him lead, uncaring that people are watching. That our friends are watching. I need this like I need to breathe. I need him. “Say it.”

Gliding my hands across his shoulders, licking his skin, tasting the sweat and salt, I inhale his sweet scent. “I am yours. Always.” With little care for who can see, I slide my hand between his legs, cupping his cock, stroking him through his jeans. “But you’re mine.”

Gunnar groans and thrusts into my palm. “Fuck, baby. Yes. I am. And I’m so damned hard for you.”

I look into his eyes, holding his gaze. “So come. Right here. Or take me somewhere and fuck me.”

He turns on his heel, pulling me from the dance floor. I ignore Gary’s wolf whistle and Astrid’s cheer as I’m dragged past the group and up the stairs to the VIP lounge. We pass Erik and Jules, who are coming down the stairs, and Erik stops, concern on his face. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just gotta show Joce something.” Erik laughs as Gunnar takes the rest of the stairs two at a time, and I hurry to keep up. Thankfully, the lounge is empty, and Gunnar turns, reaching for me, but I shake my head. “Too exposed. Someone could walk in.”

He growls and glances around, then strides into the private bathroom, hauling me after him. Kicking the door closed, he spins me so my back slams against it. “Better?”

I turn the lock, then nod. “Much.”

“Good.” In an instant, we’re desperately fumbling at our zippers. The pulsing beat of the music through the bathroom door matches the throbbing in my cock, and I whimper as Gunnar yanks my jeans down to my knees. His are already around his thighs, his thick cock hard and leaking. I moan as he steps closer, forcing me back against the door as he wraps his big hand around us both, stroking firmly. I’m dizzy with need, desperate to have him inside me, but it’s too risky here.

“Fuck, that feels so good.“ I pull my shirttails out of the way and thrust into his fist.

Gunnar’s rough voice rumbles in my ear. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you wantonlyme.”

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