Page 58 of Broken Breath (Rogue Riders Duet #1)

I look at Luc, but he motions for me to get in, so I climb into the back row first before he slides in after me, his thigh pressing tight against mine the second he’s seated.

Luc reaches over, buckles me in as the van cranks on, and I gasp at his sudden closeness, but he just smiles to himself as he pulls back and takes my hand.

“Where’s Toulouse?” I ask, keeping my eyes fixed on where our fingers are tangled together.

“Ah, worried about my son now, are you?”

I snort. “I don’t think rats are really the clubbing type. Pretty sure the music would scare him half to death.”

Luc chuckles. “ Non, he’s living the good life back at the hotel, snacking on crackers, probably stretched out like a king. He’s fine.”

His thumb mindlessly rubs lazy circles against my palm as he speaks, soft, slow strokes that make it hard to catch my breath. Then he turns my hand over like he wants to explore it, but abruptly stops as his eyes narrow on my skin.

Isla’s fucking number.

It’s smudged from where I scrubbed my skin raw trying to get it off, but it’s still readable, suddenly burning like a brand. Luc presses his thumb over the heart she drew, his body going stiff against mine.

“ C’est quoi, ca? ” His gaze flicks up to mine. “Who the fuck’s number is that?”

I try to pull my hand back, but he holds on tight, turning it toward the dim light overhead, glaring at the smudged digits like they’ve personally offended him.

“It’s Isla Raine’s,” I mutter.

Finn twists in his seat so fast I hear the leather creak. Dane turns slower, brows furrowing deep.

Eavesdroppers .

“What?” Dane snaps.

“She pushed herself on me,” I say evenly. My gaze flicks from Dane to Luc, but lands hard on Luc. “Grabbed my wrist and wouldn’t let go. Wrote it down herself, even though I tried to make it clear I’m not interested.”

Luc’s thumb presses against the inside of my wrist like he’s trying to feel my pulse. “Have you texted her?”

“ What ? No. Fuck no,” I hiss, then grab his hand with mine, hiding the number. “I scrubbed at it, Luc. It wouldn’t budge. I hate her, she’s a fucking bitch.”

Luc exhales and rests our hands in his lap. After a moment, his fingers link back through mine like nothing happened.

“Seems like I can’t let you out of my sight,” he says to me, but his eyes are on Finn, that grin curling back onto his face. “Every time I do, you get harassed. ”

Finn’s eyes flash for half a second before he turns back to the front, hiding his expression.

I roll my eyes. “Ha ha.”

“Not your fault,” Luc murmurs, leaning close to my ear. “You’re just too cute.” He presses a soft kiss to my temple, lips lingering. “ Trop mignon. ”

Fuck me, if that doesn’t make my messy heart kick.

The van pulls up outside the club, all pulsing lights and bass you can feel in your bones before the doors even open.

Piper sidles up next to me with a reassuring smile once we get out, her hand brushing against mine like she knew how out of place I’d feel.

Luc stays attached to me, but at the entrance, he lets go of me to clap hands with the bouncer, a guy built big enough to bench press the van we rode in on, then pulls him in for a quick back-pat hug.

They exchange a few words in rapid-fire French, both laughing, and then we’re waved through without even a glance at our IDs.

I shoot Piper a look, but she doesn’t seem even a little surprised.

“Luc knows everybody here.” She leans in closer so I can hear her over the muffled bass leaking through the walls. “This part of France is downhill crazy. I wouldn’t be surprised if people know you too.”

I rear back. “What?”

She grins wider, nodding toward Luc. “He’s the local hero, and everyone loves him. You’ll see.”

The music slams into me as we step inside, vibrating all the way to my ribs.

The whole place thrums with it, bodies moving, lights pulsing in time with the beat.

Luc grins as he points toward the DJ perched high on a pedestal.

When I glance up, the DJ’s voice cuts through the wall of sound, crackling through the speakers.

“Luc Delacroix is in the house! ”

There’s a raucous cheer as everyone turns toward him, toward us, s ome even raising their drinks at him. He just grins, tosses a wink toward the DJ booth, and heads straight for the bar, pulling me along in his wake like I’m caught in his slipstream.

“What do you want?” he shouts over the music once we reach the bar.

I shake my head. “Nothing!”

He pouts, full-on lower lip sticking out like he’s about to throw a tantrum, and I have to laugh.

“Maybe later!” I add, and that gets a grin out of him.

Luc orders a beer the size of my head in one of those massive plastic cups, then casually loops his arm around my waist.

Before I know it, he’s dragging me toward the dance floor with Otis in tow.

I protest, digging my feet in, but he just pulls harder, flashing that infuriating grin.

“Come on.” He leans in close, his voice dropping low against the curve of my jaw. “It’s my birthday, I want you to dance with me.”

Fuck. “Fine.”

The crowd parts to let him through, and once we’re settled, the bodies cluster and close back in around him. Girls invade his space, voices raised as they laugh and flirt, but he just flashes that easy grin, his head tipping back as he soaks up the attention.

I get edged out fast. One minute, I’m at his side, the next, I’m floating somewhere near the edge of his orbit. Otis stays planted like a tree, somehow holding his ground beside Luc with his beer in hand and a blonde swaying against him, laughing at something he says.

Eyes darting around, I catch Piper and Dane a few feet away, dancing close. I spot Finn next, leaning back against the bar with a beer in hand, his eyes scanning the crowd. Our gazes lock, and for some reason, he holds it this time, but I look away before I find out how long he would have held for.

I’ve never been in a club before, never really wanted to be, and I’m not sure I like it.

Shifting my weight between my feet in a way that no one could mistake for dancing, I start subconsciously trying to locate all the exits, already halfway to deciding to get out of here, but then Luc is there, right in front of me so suddenly that I gasp.

He reaches for me, his hand finding my waist despite my giant hoodie, and he pulls me close, shaking his head like I’ve done something unforgivable.

“Why are you over here?” he scolds, all possessive heat.

A small laugh escapes me at the instant relief of him. “Was trying not to steal your spotlight.”

“ Non, non, non. ” He grins and shakes his head again, but then his grip tightens on my waist, and his eyes take on a darker glint. “You’re mine tonight.”

Before I can so much as take a breath, he spins me and presses in at my back, his body locking against mine in a perfect fit. His chest molds to my shoulder blades, hips flush to my ass, one arm banded low around my stomach, anchoring me there like I belong to him.

The other is still holding that damn beer.

His nose skims the curve of my neck, breath hot, lips barely grazing my skin as he inhales. His scent, the sharp bite of sweat and beer, hits me like a sucker punch. I shudder and lean into him, letting my body surrender to the press of his, because there’s no use pretending I don’t want this.

“Better?” he murmurs.

I nod, the back of my head skimming his chest. “Yeah.”

“ Bon, ” he purrs. “Now, show me what you’ve got. ”

The beat drops heavier, and Luc moves with it, hips rolling, body sliding against mine, guiding me into the rhythm until I can’t tell where I end and he begins.

His hand spreads across my stomach, fingers slipping under the hem of my hoodie, calloused skin brushing mine, drawing a gasp from my throat.

His hard cock presses against my ass, the friction sending heat spiraling up my spine.

“ Putain .” Luc groans into the shell of my ear. “You smell too fucking good. I want to bite you.”

I tip my head, baring my neck like a goddamn offering, and his lips find my skin, followed by his breath and teeth. He gives me a gentle nip, just sharp enough to make me gasp. I arch against him without thinking, grinding back into him, and he groans again, this time rougher.

The world zeroes in on where our bodies connect, but before I let go completely, I check the room one more time. Otis is still dancing with that blonde, already looking a little drunk. Piper and Dane are making out like they can’t get enough of each other.

Looking back over our shoulders, I get the faintest glimpse of Finn, his eyes fixed on Luc and me, watching.

But tonight isn’t about Finn and how he can’t stop looking at the mistake he made. It’s about Luc, the way he’s moving with me, against me, his lips brushing soft words into my skin, offering promises I’m too scared to ask for.

I let myself sink into it fully then. My head falls back against his shoulder, and my eyes flutter shut, just feeling . His hand slides lower, teasing at the line of my waistband, and everything is amplified.

His fingers skim just under the band, not quite slipping in, just enough to make me ache. I arch into him with a soft, broken sound that betrays everything I’ve been trying to hide. I can feel how hard he is and how badly he wants to let go .

Just when I’m about two seconds away from grabbing Luc by the collar, ripping that snug shirt off his chest, and licking every inch of him right here on the damn dance floor, Otis’s voice bursts through my sensory haze.

“Delacroix,” he yells over the thumping bass. “W-we need to get some content for Paul or he’ll have our asses.”

My eyes open slowly, reluctantly. Luc is still flush against me, his breath ragged against my ear, and it takes him a second to respond, like we’re both swimming back to reality from wherever the hell we were headed. Slowly, his hand slides off my stomach, dragging along the hem of my hoodie.

“Yeah…” he says, sounding drunk. “Yeah, you’re right.”

I turn and watch his throat as he talks, then realize that I’m pressing my thighs together, subconsciously seeking some relief from the desperate ache building low and hot between them.

Luc sets his not-even-half-finished beer into my hands, smirking lazily like he didn’t just wreck me in the middle of a dance floor. “Hold this for me, bébé ? No alcohol on the socials. Gotta keep the sponsors happy.”

I nod dumbly, clinging to the plastic cup like it’s going to keep me standing.

He takes a step away, but then turns back abruptly, coming to my side and brushing the side of his face against mine. “Don’t go far. I’m coming back to finish what we started.”

I stare after him, my brain having bid fucking farewell, then step back as Otis pulls his phone out, puts the flash on, and starts filming.

The burst of white light punches through the dark club, illuminating Luc in all his damn glory.

His grin is full throttle again, teeth flashing as he starts to dance and rolls his hips, flirting shamelessly with the camera.

Otis moves in close, then swings back, hyping it up, and capturing every move, every stupidly perfect angle of Luc, who owns it all, laughing, sliding a hand through his hair, winking into the lens like he knows exactly how hot he looks, and yeah, the footage is going to be insane.

The light attracts the crowd like moths, and everybody presses closer, shouting his name, raising their hands, phones up and recording.

I can’t fight the tide as I get pushed farther and farther from Luc again, even though I want to push against it this time.

The DJ starts a new song, the crowd swarms even more, and instead of pressing forward like I want, I stumble back a step, then another, and another until I slam backward into something solid.

Someone solid.

The beer sloshes over my hand on the way to soaking the front of my hoodie. Fuck. The cold liquid sticks to my chest as heat blazes in my cheeks. Whirling around, I’m ready to tear into whoever the hell just…

Finn.

He’s standing there with his hands half-raised like he was about to catch me but didn’t move fast enough. His brows knit tight as he scans my soaked hoodie.

“Shit. I’m… fuck… I’m sorry.”

I let out a bitter huff, shaking the empty cup in his direction, beer dripping off the rim. “Yeah, you’re always fucking sorry.”

I don’t wait for whatever shit he was going to spew next, turning on my heel instead and stomping toward the back of the club. Pushing through the bodies is easy now that it’s a retreat, with the heat and bright lights flashing in my face, urging me on.

My skin prickles around the cold, sticky mess on my chest as I find the sign for the bathroom. I head toward the women’s like it’s second nature but catch myself just before I reach the door, veering hard into the men’s instead.

One guy is at the sinks, zipping up his jeans, and swaying on his feet. He lifts his head, blinks at me, then offers a lazy, drunken nod before stumbling out. The door slams shut behind him, leaving the room thick with the smell of beer and sweat.

I’m leaning over the sink, breathing hard, when the door creaks open.

Of fucking course.

Finn slips inside, closing the door softly behind him. His face is tight, and he stands there for a second, like he’s not exactly sure what he’s doing here, or how close he’s allowed to get.

“Al…” He steps forward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

I peel off the hoodie in one sharp tug, cutting him off mid-sentence. His gaze sharpens on my chest, mouth parting slightly as his eyes darken.

I glance down, and oh shit.

My white T-shirt is plastered to my chest, beer-soaked and translucent, outlining every curve I’ve tried so hard to hide.

Might as well be naked.

The door creaks again, and my head snaps up, panic seizing me at the riot of dark hair and the edge of a back and shoulder pushing the door open.

Luc.

Fuck.