Page 8 of Full Out Fiend

“Hey…”

She freezes, letting me take her hand without hesitation, just like she did when we came out here.

“If you change your mind—” I start.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she interrupts.

Good.

But just in case…

“If you change your mind at any point,” I pause and give her a pointed look for emphasis, “I can drive you back into town or take you home. Standing offer.”

She squints through the darkness, like she’s still trying to figure me out. I meet her gaze head-on, just like when we locked eyes in the bar. The energy that thrums between us is almost audible it’s so damn strong.

“Why are you doing this, Fielding? What’s in it for you?”

Is that a hypothetical question?

From her gorgeous legs up to her thick thighs… from the curve of her hips to those luscious tits I’m already fantasizing about…

She’s gorgeous and soft, feminine and sensual. She’s got this luminescent pale skin that will mark up so pretty for me. By the end of the night, she’s going to be pink and red all over, and I’ll make sure she loves every second of it.

I gently tug on her arm to pull her back into my body, hovering for a breath before bending to whisper in her ear.

“You, angel. I couldn’t take my eyes off you from the second I came over to your table. But with all this white”—I skim both hands up the sides of her dress—“I thought I never stood a chance. You’re giving me an opening. And I’m fucking taking it.

“You may think I’m a nice guy, but I’m not a good man. I see what’s in front of me. I know what I’m getting out of this night. Get in there and tell your friend goodbye. I need to feel those thighs squeezing around my head, and soon.”

I give her the smallest nudge in encouragement, then smack her ass when she turns to leave.

She yelps, looks back over her shoulder with wide eyes, and grins.

I don’t bother watching her walk away—I refuse to waste another second when I’m so close to having her in my bed. I stride through the alley in the opposite direction toward the back lot so we can officially get this night started.

Chapter 6

Daphne

Thisisn’tme.I’venever picked up a stranger in a bar. I’ve never even had a one-night stand.

Serena’s eyes widened in shock when I whispered my plans in her ear, but her surprise quickly transformed into encouragement, just like I knew it would.

She’ll cover for me tonight. Then tomorrow she’ll help me make sense of everything: how to cancel all the vendors for the wedding and how to break the news to my parents. It’s going to be a nightmare to navigate the fallout over the next several weeks, but I don’t have to think about that tonight.

Serena has always been on my side. I’ve known her since our first year of cosmetology school. She’s never been a fan of Anthony, and this “free pass” nonsense put the nail in his proverbial coffin in her mind.

In mine, too, I guess.

The worst part is the nagging sense of knowing that teases at the edges of my mind. I’ve spent nearly a decade making excuses for my almost-ex-fiancé’s behavior—telling myself that all relationships have ups and downs or that I was being overly sensitive when he did or said something that didn’t land well.

But then I think about the way he’d make comments about female actors when we’d watch a movie. And how he asked me to change outfits before going to his parents’ house for dinner last week. Or that time a few years ago when I found a dating app on his phone, but he insisted he was trying to help a friend.

If I’m honest with myself, the inklings were always there. But we grew up together, and over the years, we wove into each other’s lives in a way I thought was permanent and inevitable. After three years, then five years, then eight years, all the little things were easier to dismiss than fight about.

We started dating my sophomore year of high school. I was so young now that I look back on it—but I was the last of my friends to have a boyfriend.

As one of the boys next door, Anthony wasn’t even on my radar, but he was a year older and had a car. After one particularly bad fight with my mom—she had this protein shake she insisted I try, and I just wanted cereal for breakfast—he found me crying in the side yard between our houses. He was a big guy, even at sixteen—tall and girthy, perfect for playing right guard on the Hampton High football team. He had always teased me when we were younger, so when I saw him there, I quickly dried my eyes and tried to take off toward my house before he could spot me.