Page 24

The gray sequin dress fits my thin frame like a second skin. My hair cascades in large loose curls down my back and my make up is done to perfection.

As much as it pains me to say, everything about my outfit was chosen with Rhys in mind.

I want to see – feel – his eyes fill will hunger and lust. I want to have him take me to bed and ravage me like a man starved.

It’s been a long few days of heated teasing between Rhys and me. I need release and he is the only one I want to help me find it.

Declan, Paige, and I walk into the club. Rhys stands at the entrance with his hands tucked into his black slacks. His white button up stretches across his broad chest. The fabric hugs his arms deliciously. The sleeves are rolled up, showing off the tattoos and veins that cover his muscular forearms.

My stomach flutters when his emerald eyes meet mine.

A smug smirk plays on his lips, clearly having caught me ogling him.

Trying to play indifference, I strut passed him and make my way to VIP.

He chuckles low, keeping a very short distance behind me but I feel it sweep down my body, all the way down to my toes.

The base of the music syncs with the pounding of my heart. The pull between me and Rhys is addictive.

Maybe I just need to fuck him out of my system. Clearly my pussy is addicted because he’s the only man to make me submit. The only one who knows how to handle me as woman.

That’s what it is. The feelings I have toward him are simply physical.

Paige and I settle in the booth, Declan sits next to her, and Rhys sits beside me. I feel the heat radiating off his body from how close he sits.

My thighs unconsciously rub together. The ache in my core grows with each passing second.

Declan orders four glasses of Irish whiskey.

My body is scorching. I barely feel the burn as it travels down my throat.

“Feeling okay, mo réalta ?”

It’s almost painful to suppress the shudders threating to pulse down my spine.

“I’m great.” My cheeks burn from the wide smile I offer.

His eyes lazily coast down my body.

Oh God.

He leans into my ear. His breath is hot against my skin. “You look absolutely edible.”

A whimper escapes my lips.

Rhys lets out a satisfied hum.

“I’ve been so fucking hard for you. My cock misses sinking into that tight little pussy of yours.” I startle when I feel his fingers caress my thigh. “You’ve been teasing me all week.”

I side-eye him. “You haven’t been so innocent.”

“Never claimed to be.” He shrugs, pulling away to sip his whiskey.

My attention is pulled when Paige stands and makes her way to the railing that overlooks the dance floor.

An odd twinge pinches my stomach as I watch her people watch.

She’s falling for Declan and I’m going to end up being left behind.

I’ll be alone again.

That thought soaks me like a bucket of ice water.

All traces of lust and happiness is washed away. Panic and grief take their place.

Doing what I do best, I shove my feelings deep down. Masking it with the Sarah everyone knows. The happy go-lucky woman who only radiates a wild spirit with no troubles that haunt her.

I feel Rhys’ stare on my profile but avoid turning toward him.

I refuse to let anyone see the shift in my mood – especially Rhys. I don’t need him trying to tug at my heart strings and unravel what I hide.

Our attention is jerked to the stairs when a man shouts.

“Pezzo di merda!”

The Italian from the restaurant is fighting with the bouncers, trying to shove his way through.

I guess what they say about Italians’ have a temper is true because I have yet to see this man not losing his ever-loving mind.

Completely unbothered, Declan slowly waves his hand. “Let him pass.”

The bouncers follow his order and the man huffs, straightening his jacket before storming past them.

Rage covers every inch of his face.

Rhys stands, keeping his stance wide and ready to strike. Declan remains seated, relaxed despite the rising tension in the air.

“What the fuck were you thinking sending a man to my home, beaten to death, stronzo?!”

Adrenaline begins pumping through my veins. My eyes meet Paige’s shocked gaze for a split second before returning to the confrontation.

Declan stands in a smooth motion, standing to his full height.

“Antonio, how about we head up to my office, huh? Then we can sort out this little tantrum you’re throwing.”

Antonio’s nostrils flare like a bull at the jab Declan tosses his way.

Rhys turns to me. “We’ll be back in a little bit. Stay here.” He dips, pressing his lips against my forehead.

Don’t swoon. Don’t swoon. Don’t swoon.

But dammit, my heart flutters.

“Move,” Rhys growls the moment he steps behind Antonio. He shoves at his back, herding him to the doorway at the opposite end of the room.

The lust I had before returns with a vengeance from witnessing mafia Rhys . It was unbelievably sexy.

Maybe I should see somebody about finding dangerous men so hot… Nah.

I turn to Paige and watch her heart filled eyes trail after Declan.

Grinning, I bounce over to her. “That was fucking hot!”

She smiles, dipping her head. “I’ll admit that was pretty hot,” she snickers lightly.

We spend the next thirty minutes alternating between dancing, and people watching.

Paige stops mid dance and starts scanning the VIP dance floor. I follow her gaze when her head tilts and her brows furrow.

I don’t spot anything and eventually she shakes her head, blinking quickly as though her eyes were playing tricks on her.

My eyes bounce between her and the area she was surveying.

Still nothing.

She keeps silent and resumes swaying to the music.

My body buzzes from the alcohol and soon I find myself needing to pee like a racehorse.

“I need to pee, what to come with?” I tug at the bottom of my dress that repeatedly rises up my thighs.

She nods and sets her glass of whiskey on the table.

I loop my arm with hers and we stride to the stairs.

* * *

Shit.

A red splotch stains my thong.

My brand-new fucking thong.

“Son of a bitch!” I shout, it echoes throughout the empty restroom.

My period is early, and I’m not prepared. I guess I won’t be getting laid tonight. There is no way in hell Rhys would ever touch me with vagina blood between my thighs.

“No, I’m not okay! I just started my period, and I don’t have shit with me. Do you have anything?”

It’s unlikely since she has an IUD, but it’s worth a shot.

I hear her clutch land on the counter.

“Sorry, babe. I got nothing. Let me text Declan that we’re heading out and we can go home.”

Huffing, I start ripping at the toilet paper to at least avoid embarrassing myself when we walk out of this place.

Once finished, I flush the toilet and shove the stall door open.

“Stupid motherfucking uterus needing to shed because the bitch didn’t get her egg fertilized,” I mutter while washing my hands.

My eyes rise to the mirror, shifting and meeting Paige’s face. Her lips are rolled inward, and she struggles to hold in her laughter.

“It’s not fucking funny, Paige. I just ruined a damn good pair of underwear and had to use like half the toilet paper roll so I’m not bleeding down my leg.” I growl.

She lifts her hands in surrender but doesn’t bother hiding her laughter anymore.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t laugh, but you always start your period at the worst times, yet you still don’t carry anything.”

Rolling my eyes, I step toward the door. “Let’s just go home.”

She follows me back to VIP to retrieve my bag and then we head home.

The drive is quiet. I can see the tension radiating off Paige and it’s making me anxious.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask, gently nudging her with my elbow so she turns her gaze from the window to me.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. I’m good.”

“That was the most unconvincing sentence,” I say with a pointed look.

Our Uber stops in front of our apartment building before she’s able to answer. She avoids my gaze the entire way to our apartment.

Her head is on a swivel and her spine is ramrod straight as she waits for me to open the door.

She bolts inside and heads to her room the second it’s unlocked.

“Paige,” I call out, but she ignores me. Her door is shut the moment she steps past its threshold.

If Paige doesn’t want to talk, she won’t. She’s just as stubborn as I am when it comes to sharing our feelings. The best thing I can do is be here when she needs me.

I frown at the door, then remember why we came home in the first place. Spinning on my heels, I step into the bathroom to clean up.