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Chapter Eighteen

Alex

I swear to God, Jordan Mackenzie is going to be the death of me.

I feel his gaze on me like a burning fire as I walk away. He's baiting me, and I know it.

"You're cute when you're mad."

His words echo in my brain as I head back to the dancefloor, loosening my tie. Hearing him call me anything other than annoying or a pain in the ass is great, but hearing him call me cute? Well…

God, it's too fucking hot in here.

Maybe that's just me. Or maybe it has everything to do with the man burning a hole into my back with his gaze from a room away.

"Brewer! There you are!" Andre shouts as Hudson, Trey, and Paul raise their glasses along with the bridesmaids.

Britt squeezes her way through the crowd and hands me a small glass full of pink liquid.

I sniff it and she rolls her eyes. I don't bother to ask what it is.

Britt knows my tastes better than most people.

I've never been much of a beer or whiskey guy, like my dad and brother.

I prefer my drinks with little umbrellas and lots of sugar to balance out the bite.

The tart vodka burns my throat and I relish in the feel.

Hudson bounces around off beat while Trey fistbumps the air, his tie wrapped around his head, and Paul and Andre are sandwiched with their bridesmaid partners.

I look around as I take a long sip of my drink.

The second swig burns, but it feels good.

Savannah is surrounded by her bridesmaids, and I have no clue where Austen is. Part of me wonders if I should go find him.

"Wanna dance?" Britt asks, her hand sliding underneath my elbow.

"Aren't you tired of dancing with me?" I quip before draining my drink.

"Never," she says sweetly as she wraps her arms around my neck. I toss my cup on the edge of the nearest table. The DJ puts on “Right Round” by Flo Rida and Ke$ha, and everyone around us starts hollering and jumping up and down. Warning: I will laugh if the girls break a heel and fall .

"Your dancing skills are only second to your trick shot."

"Mhmmm," I murmur, shooting her a sarcastic glare, but I settle my hands on her hips all the same. "I'll show you a trick shot, baby."

I take her hands in mine and spin her around, twirling her like a figure skater.

She giggles, her dress flowing like waves of magenta and violet, spinning and spinning until she falls into my arms with a laugh, her head falling back, pink curls falling over her shoulder.

She runs her hands down my chest, bringing herself closer to me, and I'm acutely aware of how close she is.

Her bright eyes stare up at me, and she smiles.

"He's been staring at you all night, you know," she whispers, her lips inches away from mine.

"Brittany," I bite out. "Fuck, don't—"

"You should talk to him." Her hands slide down my chest as her lips find my ear.

I find her hands with mine, holding them in place.

"He's coming over here," she says, her hand sliding over my heart. "Act natural."

Easy for her to fucking say! I don't think this entire room would like my "acting natural" around Jordan Mackenzie. That would entail getting naked, bending over the nearest table, and calling out, “Yes, Daddy!”

Fuck, I don’t even think Jordan would like me “acting natural” around him. He can barely handle Asshole Alex, and that’s the me everyone knows. I have a feeling he would head for the hills if he saw Real Alex. Most people book it when they see the real me, I doubt he’d be any different.

The guys and the girls holler again as the sound effects from Ginuwine's “Pony” echo in the air.

Mack drinks from his glass, his dark gaze heated as he holds my stare before he flashes a glare at Brittany.

"Mack," I greet once he reaches us. He's been doing this shit all night, and it's irritating as fuck, but as much as I hate it, I also fucking love it. He shoves me with his shoulder as he passes, and the hit is deliberate.

The music drones on about being a bachelor and looking for a partner as he flashes that wicked glare at me over his shoulder. It's full of challenge.

The look he gives me doesn't need words. It's clear as a bell.

I've been with enough assholes to know that look. The one they give you when they want to fuck you—hard and unapologetically.

He wants this. Wants me. Drunk words and actions come from sober thoughts, I know that more than anyone.

I shouldn't take his bait. I really shouldn't. But when it comes to Jordan Mackenzie, I am weak .

He heads for the other side of the room, out into the hallway, and strolls towards the bathroom without a care in the world. Cocky as hell. Like he owns the place.

I love it.

You fucking asshole, you.

He's halfway across the floor before Britt pulls her hands from my chest.

"I'm going to grab another drink," she says carefully.

I smirk, shaking my head as I lean down to whisper in her ear, "And they say I'm the bad influence."

She giggles, smacking me in the chest. "You are. "

She leaves me on the dance floor, and Mack is nowhere to be seen.

I don't bother excusing myself because everyone's pretty involved and no one will miss me.

Sliding my hands into my pockets, my heart racing, I make my way to the single-person bathroom on the opposite side of the hall. I look both ways before opening the door, and for a moment, I think I miscalculated because I don't see him.

But then I feel him.

I feel him as my back hits the door. The lock clicks, echoing in the small dimly lit space.

His mouth finds mine like a guided missile, his hands finding my wrists and pinning them over my head.

"Jordan..." I breathe his name as he presses his erection against me, making me curse. There isn't much room in this tiny bathroom, and between the both of us, our bodies barely fit in here. Which means I feel everything. And I know he can too—including my solid cock.

His fingers wrap around my wrists tightly as he uses his body weight to shove me even harder against the door, causing it to rattle.

"Oh, fuck," I curse.

My lips travel to his neck, then the corner of his mouth. I kiss him everywhere I can reach, from his jaw to his earlobe. A deep groan escapes me, knowing the reason he’s so hard is because of how badly he wants me.

His cufflinks glisten in the low light, catching my attention as he removes one hand from my wrist and places it around my throat.

I should walk away. I should unlock this door and tell him to come at me when he's sober. This is a bigger mistake than the first time.

We’ve been there, and we’ve done this. It wasn’t easy the first time, and this time it’s going to tear me the fuck apart.

But I kiss him anyway because this is Jordan Mackenzie, and I can’t help myself.

My heart races in my chest as he devours me, his lips bruising and sharp, his tongue warm and eager.

He grinds himself against me, and I can't help but moan in response.

"On your knees for me," he growls.

I gaze up at his honey brown eyes, my throat suddenly dry, and I'm certain it's not from the alcohol .

Refresh my memory, he’d said.

Maybe a better man would walk away, know his worth, or some stupid shit smart people say, but I'm not a better man and I’m not known to be very smart. Not when it comes to Jordan Mackenzie, anyway.

I'm toast.

“You didn’t say please,” I bite out.

His free hand finds my hair, and he pushes me down with a growl.

“And I’m not going to,” he says bitterly. “Now get on your fucking knees, Alex.”

It’s not the words that make my brain glitch; it’s how he says them.

With authority. Like he owns me.

Suddenly everything in me changes, pushing forth from where I buried it.

I hold his gaze as I do as he says. My knees hit the tile floor with a thud. I slide my hands up his thighs, expertly working to slide down his pants to free his cock.

The minute it bobs free, I don’t hesitate. The door clanks as Mack braces his arms on it, holding himself up. His legs shake from the motion, head falling back in ecstasy the moment I take him into my mouth.

“Fuck…” His strained, gravelly whisper is full of drunken ecstasy. I love the way it sounds.

I pop off him and he curses .

“No, please don’t stop,” he begs in a husky tone. Fuck, it’s so hot.

I nudge his legs apart the best I can before sucking his balls and licking him all the way up his thick length.

“Your mouth feels so good,” he whispers.

I grin from his praise as one of his hands finds my hair.

He slides his fingers through my locks and tightens his grip as he shoves my head down further, making his cock hit the back of my throat.

I gag, my cock throbbing in my pants. Mack doesn’t let up; he fucks my mouth without concern for me—my favorite way.

Drool collects under my chin as I double my efforts, sucking and licking him while I use my hand to massage his balls, my thumb brushing the outer edge of his hole.

I wonder if maybe one day he’ll let me inside.

“Coming. Fuck—” He hisses as his grip tightens in my hair and he pushes me against the wall, shoving his dick as far as it’ll go.

He comes down my throat, holding me there, with nowhere to go. I can’t breathe. All I can do is hope he finishes before I suffocate.

I swallow every drop, glancing up at him to watch the expression of satisfaction on his face.

Our eyes meet, and there is a moment of undeniable pleasure there, but it’s soon replaced by something I know too well. Something I expected, but am still disappointed to see .

Panic.

“Fuck—” He stumbles back, slamming against the opposite wall as he hurries to put his dick away. “Don’t fucking look at me like that.”

“Like what?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper as I run my hands down my now-wrinkled shirt.

“What the fuck are you still doing down there?” he growls, panic in his eyes as they dart from me to the door. I’m blocking his escape.

The words tumble out of my mouth without thought. “You didn’t tell me to get up.”