Page 15

Chapter Fourteen

I poured myself another glass of wine and grabbed a bag of plain crisps – the bare necessities for a Friday night in front of the television. I spent far too long scrolling Netflix until I finally ended on one of my comfort movies starring Jennifer Aniston. The familiarity of the predictable happily ever after always hit the spot and for a couple of hours I could live vicariously through her.

When my phone rang some time later, waking me from a nap I didn’t plan to take, I realised the credits were rolling.

God, I was so lame. “Hey, love,” my voice was groggy, sleep lacing my words as I answered.

“Girl, were you asleep? It's seven o’clock on a Friday night! Get your arse up. Tonight, we are celebrating. Andy re-signed with the Hearts and we’re heading to Nexus . Be ready in forty-five,” she didn’t need to wait for my reply. The second she said where they were going, I was wide-awake and instantly excited because there was a chance I was going to see Seb.

We’d spent the last three days messaging, most continuing late into the night and I now knew a lot more about the interesting and sexy man with the hazel eyes and those thick delectable arms. I'd also shared small snippets of my parents' passing which felt like a big deal.

I felt free and unburdened. More aware of the little things that I spent so long overlooking and I was enjoying the not so subtle flirtatious tone to many of our exchanges.

But actually seeing him again was different. Without the screen to hide behind or the chance to think before I responded, I was a complex flutter of excited nerves. What if I poured another drink on his shoes or lost the plot and pretended we’d never met? Would I do something like that? What if he kissed me again, or what if he didn’t? Which was worse?

God, I needed a drink before I made myself nauseous.

“I’m running to the shower. See you soon.”

When Arna raced through the door twenty minutes later, I was just finishing my makeup while she was a flash of blonde hair jumping straight into my shower.

“I’m so proud of him, he has never been so confident in himself. In fact, I’m proud of you too. How was today? I’m so glad you’re coming. We’re picking Flick up on the way. Also, Jack said you owe him a drink, so he wasn’t going to let you stay home even if you tried. Said he wants another dance off too. He kills me, that guy,” she was smiling as she reached for my razor and started shaving her legs.

“Firstly, you do realise you have a razor and shower in your own bathroom? Secondly, take a breath, babes.”

She laughed, flipping me off.

“Thirdly, I’ll pay up on the drink but he is dreaming if he thinks he will out dance me. And finally, as if I’m going to miss a girls night with you and Flick and an opportunity to see the disgracefully sexy owner of that club. I mean I will obviously be too nervous to talk to, look at or acknowledge him in person, but I will enjoy being in his vicinity. And if I can get even the smallest whiff of that ungodly scent, I will survive another week on this earth.”

“Girl, you have it bad,” she turned the shower off, now grabbing my towel to dry off. “They contemplated going somewhere else and I vetoed that right away. I hate new places and I wanted you to be able to see Seb again. Plus, since Felicity resigned, I’ve barely seen her so tonight is ticking all of the boxes.”

“Can you not, you also have your own towel,” I said half-heartedly trying to get my towel from her grip. She ignored me entirely, which was standard, and raced into her room, calling back, “Wear your black leather skirt.”

“Thank you! I was literally just about to ask about my outfit because up until this point I was planning on wearing this dressing gown. I totally forgot about that skirt. Should I wear the emerald strapless top with it as well?”

There was no other way to put it – I was fashion challenged. I had zero interest in clothing unless it was comfortable or purposeful and Arna had always been my sounding board and generally dictated what I wore when we went out. I happily grabbed the skirt knowing she would want me to look as hot as possible and I did too given the company.

“Yes,” she called, “that shirt makes your eyes pop and coincidentally matches the colour of your new bracelet. Sebby poo will not be able to resist you tonight.”

I'd recently taken to wearing a green bracelet, feeling it perfectly represented my growth and new found productivity, and it did match my shirt, I thought happily.

She returned wearing a pair of jeans and a gold halter neck shirt she was tying around her neck. “Does this shirt look okay?” She was using the mirror in my room to judge as I assessed my own outfit next to her.

“As long as you're wearing jeans, I'm happy. Last time we went out Andy couldn’t keep his hands out of your skirt. It was practically a live sex show.” I finished moisturising my legs, laughing at the memory.

“That’s a good point. I’m wearing a skirt,” she ran back into her room to change.

“Oh my god,” I laughed, “On that note, I’m having another wine.”

“Pour me one too, Andy said they’re ten away, so let’s get this party started.”

Tonight was going to be fun and hopefully if the stars aligned, I would again be memorable for a certain thunderous man.

The club was busy when we arrived, even busier than the first time we were here, but Andy and the boys had a table as expected. Arna headed straight to Andy, leaving Flick and I to grab seats among Jack, Jay and the rest of the table of footy players. I was surprised to see Jay as he’d maintained a pretty low profile since a tabloid saga last season which saw his career end prematurely. In the thick of a media frenzy, he took the blame for a pretty shitty drug scandal which was not even remotely on him. That alone gave Jack, among others, the chance to avoid the media debacle which followed as well as continue with their careers entirely unscathed. He was a good guy and it was nice to see him out. He was also Jack’s biggest supporter and the first one to acknowledge how easy it is to make mistakes, like using recreational drugs, when on the wrong end of social pressures.

“Move!” Felicity barked at him, the scowl she usually graced him with marring her otherwise gorgeous features. We couldn’t ever be together without her and Jay spending at least half the night arguing. She didn’t tend to agree with my glowing assessment, but couldn’t give you a valid reason as to why.

To be honest, I was of the opinion they needed to bang and be done with it. Despite the insults, swearing and scowls, their chemistry was off the charts and if they would stop fighting for more than two minutes, they’d see that.

“Are you always this angry, Autumn?” Jay questioned, gently tugging her long amber strands and I bit my lip to hide my smirk.

“Touch me again and I will break your fingers,” she leaned across him, snatching his half-drunk beer and claiming it as her own. Throwing his head back he laughed which only deepened her scowl.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

I glanced around at the gathering of happy faces, everyone here to celebrate keeping their captain, as they clinked their glasses and sipped their drinks. Jack put his beer down, standing and engulfing me in a hug which lifted my feet from the ground before planting a wet kiss on my cheek.

“Hey, Jacky!” I exclaimed. “How freaking awesome was your goal the other week? I was screaming loud enough that I was certain you would have heard me.”

I’d watched him play for the Hearts long before we ever crossed paths. Dad had even mentioned him as one to keep an eye on when he was first drafted and I still couldn’t believe he was someone I now called a friend. He always seemed happy to see me, which was nice, especially when I didn’t have many friends of my own.

“You know I kicked that goal for you, right?” his eyes sparkled as he put me back on the ground and turned to have a sip of his beer. One of the things I admired about him was how he oozed confidence yet he maintained a respectful and friendly demeanour. There was no denying he was attractive and I knew he could have any woman he wanted in this place if he cared enough to try, although he never seemed interested and I often wondered if he had some secret fetish none of us knew about. Or maybe the rumours were true and he did have someone back home he wasn't ready to share with everyone. He was a little younger than the rest of the boys, but nothing would surprise me.

“Sure you did. You say that to all the girls, don’t you?” I joked, hitting him on the arm and taking the empty seat next to him. “I’m seriously proud of you. It wasn’t an easy shot and after the siren! Match winners mean additional pressure,” I added, taking a sip of the vodka that Andy handed me.

“You are such a Hearts loser. I love it, eeee,” he said, extending my name with a grin.

“I’m aware,” I said, patting him condescendingly on the head. “So, are we looking for a friend for you tonight?” I was semi-serious but also doing my part in our mission to investigate the validity of our assumptions.

“Nah. I’m done with the partying life. Happy to be on the sidelines these days,” he answered with a nod. “When out anyway.”

I smiled and patted his cheek kindly. He was so hard on himself, but I was glad he was here because it meant we could keep each other company.

Determined and feeling slightly reckless I threw back the rest of my drink and grabbed Jack by the hand.

“Let’s dance, Mr. Mature, maybe we can scope the floor to see if there is someone half-decent now you’re a grown man. Unless there is someone you haven't told me about?” I teased, studying his face for any kind of reaction. But, he gave me nothing worth reporting back to the girls. Scanning the table I saw Flick chatting animatedly with some of the boys and Andy and Arna connected at the mouth so I called across to them that we were off to dance.

“Maybe you two should get a room,” I added, depicting a gagging gesture in their direction. Shaking my head at a laughing Jay, I turned back to Jack and took his extended hand as he dragged me behind him to the dance floor.

I’d thought about seeing Sebastian tonight when I was in the car on the way here, and the alcohol coursing through me made the giddiness again rise to the surface. Flick and Arna had even played hypotheticals asking me how I would react if he cleared the dance floor and went all Dirty Dancing style, or overtook the DJ booth and started singing a song to me – both of which had me in a horrified fit of giggles. I wanted to see him, but if either of those things occurred, I would be mortified.

A Calvin Harris song began and the crowd erupted, moving closer as bodies swayed and collided.

I loved music.

I loved the freedom it provided as the sound took over and moved through you.

I sang loudly and off-key with half of the words probably – most definitely – wrong, as I threw my head back and my arms in the air. Closing my eyes for a brief moment I felt unencumbered.

Here I was in public, dancing and singing, light from the alcohol, safe with my people and in a space I knew I was protected. It was exhilarating and as the song came to a crescendo I smiled, looking towards Jack in appreciation. He raised his brows for a brief moment as he looked over my shoulder and the hairs on the back of my neck stood alert. The oceanic smell of fresh clean skin washed over me as warm hands gripped my hips and soft lips grazed my cheek. A deep voice echoing in my ear with words spoken only for me.

“You look gorgeous. But you know that, don’t you?” Heat spread through my body at the affirmation and the feel of his brazen touch. Smiling both at his presence and to reassure Jack I was okay, I turned to look at Sebastian over my shoulder and was greeted with a subtle raise of his brow.

It was the first time I’d seen this side of him, playful almost but with a scarily serious veil, and suddenly I was thrust back into the hallway, his lips against mine. I was struck by the depth of his eyes in this lighting, his austere expression contradicted only by the tender feel of his hands on my skin.

“Do you always move through your club grabbing women and drowning them with how good you smell?” My bold retort was a reflection of how at ease he made me feel. I saw Jack in my peripheral, nodding his head at Seb in greeting before narrowing his eyes at me. Nodding subtly, I grinned in farewell before turning to face my unexpected dance partner. I loved Jack in that moment for having my back first despite his friendship with Sebastian but more than that, I loved the way the deep hands which were on my hip, purposely moved to my lower back.

His laugh resonated through my body as he pulled me into him. He was wearing a clean white shirt again and I wondered if he ever got dirty. The question taking my thoughts to an entirely different place that was not at all appropriate for the public domain.

“I’ve never touched a woman in my club, yet this is now the second time you’ve been here and I find myself touching you,” his words dripped with possession as he moved his hand down to grip my backside, “Why is that?”

I felt hot.

I wanted things from him that I should not and could not want. I was too messed up to be entering into anything with anyone let alone someone as gorgeous and put together as him, yet he was all I could think about. As the music played, I found myself swaying my hips, intensifying the contact, desperate for more.

“Hmmmm, so much less attitude when we’re face to face,” his voice was velvet, smooth with conviction.

I had no reply, no quick wit to offer.

I couldn’t think beyond the man who I could feel on every inch of my body.

The crowd cheering as another song started broke me from my reverie and Sebastian loosened his grip, instead spinning me and with his hand on the small of my back, guiding me through the crowd. I walked ahead of him, taking guidance from the light touch, contemplating where we were going and hoping it was somewhere private. Exiting the dance floor, we moved to the back of the club, where he opened a door which separated revellers from employees, and climbed a discrete set of stairs. I followed him blindly, flushed and overwhelmed by his touch. At this point I didn’t care where we went as long as I was alone with him.

The music faded as Sebastian unlocked a door at the top of the stairs gesturing for me to enter. It appeared to be an office, a large oak desk orienting the space, void except for a single pen holder and a closed laptop. To the left sat a small bench, cut into the wall, with a singular bulb alight, the only source of light other than the strobes of colour which occasionally moved through the floor to ceiling window. A closet and a table with no less than fifteen screens showing various spaces within the club lined the right wall and I moved to this immediately. I scoured the feed for our table, grinning when I spotted Arna still on Andy’s lap, her back to his chest and his hand inappropriately placed beneath her skirt. Flick, Jay, Jack and the others were still there, ignoring the obnoxious behaviour of our friends as they drank and enjoyed themselves. I smiled, turning to find Sebastian staring at me intently.

“This is the best. Although I see enough of their filthy antics at home and now I have to see it on zoom,” I said, suppressing a shiver.

Seb grinned and the sight was disarming.

“You’d be surprised by the things I see,” he grimaced, which made me laugh.

“Oh god. I would spend all night watching these. People are horrifyingly fascinating. Do you find it distracting?”

“Sometimes. Depends if there is something or someone I want to watch.” His answer was brief, yet the implication there, as he moved to a small bar fridge hidden beneath the bench, grabbing a chilled glass and placing it on top. “Drink?” His voice alone made me shiver.

“Sure, thanks.”

While he tinkered with whatever he was making, I took the opportunity to snoop around, pausing at the floor to ceiling glass. I inhaled quickly at the view of so many people on a Friday night in the city. People were uninhibited, enjoying themselves with their companions and the liberation in their movements was contagious.

Sebastian’s arm grazed my side as he handed me a drink with a small green straw. He stood close enough that I could smell him, but not as close as I would like given I was still thinking about how his hands had caressed my hips only minutes ago.

“Vodka passion fruit,” he stated matter of factly, like I had ordered the drink myself.

Huh. He knew my drink order. I was sure it wasn’t something we’d discussed in our messages which meant he’d been observing me. At the realisation, I found my self-imposed walls dropping ever so slightly.

“Thank you,” I stated and he simply nodded as if it were no big deal.

“This really is amazing. I didn’t even notice how large this place is from down there. But with this view, I could stand here and watch people all night,” I said with a laugh.

He moved to stand behind me, looking over my shoulder, his breath in my ear.

“I used to, but these days I’m finding myself only wanting to watch one person,” grabbing my hip again he pulled me back into his chest. I swayed lightly on my feet, inhaling sharply at the instant desire I felt spread through my body. When he was this close it did things to me that I couldn’t explain. Made me feel dirty in all the right ways.

“Would you like it if I watched you?” His question was heated, his voice laced with something I couldn’t quite name. Any answer I would have given was sucked right from me when his fingers lightly danced across my stomach up to my ribcage. Careful even, as if waiting for me to tell them to stop.

Instead, I shamelessly leant into his touch, wanting him to move higher. Suddenly desperate.

When he kissed my neck, I actually whimpered, my eyes closing and my head falling back to rest on his chest. The music from below was loud, beating through the floor, creating a vibration which coupled with his touch, was palpable. Taking the drink from my hand he placed it on the table before reentering my space, my breathing increasing instantly.

He kissed my neck again, whispering, “I was watching you down there. Dancing in this tight fucking skirt and all I could think about was bringing you up here so I could touch you,” his hands performed as he spoke, grazing my skin and moving up and around my neck. Instinctively, my head fell back again allowing him access.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he praised, sending a rush low in my belly and I mewled at his admiration. He made me feel sexy, his hands tracking my body as though it was a compulsion.

“Sorry, it’s been a while,” I said as a way of explaining my uncontrolled responses.

“Don’t apologise. I love hearing you respond to me like that,” his hands were everywhere and it was all I could do not to rip my clothes off.

Opening my eyes, realisation dawned. “Can they see us?”

Again dragging his teeth down my neck he responded. “No, . I don’t share. And I especially wouldn’t share something as memorable as you. Would you mind if they could though?” He was teasing as he asked but the thought made my body temperature rise and I leaned into him harder. Why was the thought of him touching me with so many people around so fucking hot?

Shit, did I have undiagnosed agoraphilia?

Shockingly, I answered, “I d-don’t think so.”

“Put your hands on the glass,” he commanded, his words oozing power and I very nearly purred. Apparently my fetish involved being dominated by cryptic nightclub owners with tattooed forearms. Desire pooled at the anticipation of what he was going to do next and I was already feeling wet between my legs. Being so blatantly aroused was another new novelty for me, something else I discovered as a result of the man behind me.

His hands moving beneath my shirt sent goosebumps across my skin and I closed my eyes, focusing on the warmth that was spreading through me. I wanted him. Wanted this.

The thought of how we must look, me bent forward at the hips, hands on the glass, while he commanded my body only spurred my acquiescence. I was a needy slut for this man.

“Spread your legs.” At his instruction, my eyes widened and I glanced over my shoulder. I knew the uncertainty would be written all over my face and his eyes softened. His hands never stopped as they moved across my stomach and up to my throat, squeezing gently before coming down to touch my nipples.

“I’m going to make you cum,” he stated plainly. “I’m going to make you forget anyone other than me and I’m going to do it while you are leaning against this window looking fucking gorgeous. Because having you stand here and let me do that is probably the sexiest thing I've ever imagined.” His words were like melted butter, coursing through me and leaving only arousal in their wake.

“Tell me to stop at any time and I will. I only want to make you feel good.”

God, I wanted that too. So much.

“I won’t hurt you, ,” he added and I believed him. There was no hidden malice in his words, no heed or selfish tone. Nodding, I widened my stance pressing my hips back, and a sound of pleasure hummed through him.

“So fucking compliant,” he complimented and I wanted to sit up straight like an A+ student. Submission and praise kinks both being added to my next sleuthing session.

His touch was warm as he softly grazed my leg, his fingers toying with the hem of my skirt before climbing higher. Pressing his entire body into me and touching the side of my panties, I hissed out a breath.

I was so turned on, desperate for him to touch my most sensitive part.

He stroked my inner thigh, before grazing the pads of his fingers across my core, tracing a slow line down my slit.

The unexpected spark of pleasure from being touched in this way sent fireworks through my chest and with an entire club of people so close I very nearly growled.

“Fuck,” he breathed as his fingers slid underneath my panties, his skin touching my darkest parts as my blood pooled under his touch.

His voice held an intensity that I hadn’t heard before providing me with the last boost of confidence I needed. He tugged at my black g-string, moving both the lace and his lips down my body.

He was in complete control and it was disconcertingly freeing.

This control was sexy. It came with need. A need to feel his strength wrapped around me. The idea that I could be a passenger while he steered me wherever he wanted was lasciviously hot and I arched into him further. His hands were back on my skin and it sizzled like water thrown onto hot coals, with one hand rubbing my nipple and the other on my swollen core.

His fingers roamed, exploring and tracing, his chest rising and falling rapidly against my back.

I was ravenous. With the packed club below completely unaware of the naughty things we were doing up here, I let myself go.

He pressed a finger inside me and I moaned loudly. It had never been like this before. Not even in my wildest dreams could I have imagined the way his touch would feel against me.

On impulse, I flattened my palms against the glass, giving him greater access and he took advantage, gliding his finger out and around my clit before pressing it back inside me.

My breath left me in a hot gush as he pushed in and out of me. He was rock hard against my lower back and I wanted to reach around and stroke him but I was lost to the ungodly crackles of pleasure shooting across my skin. There was no room for apprehension as he added a second finger stretching me perfectly.

“Oh my god,” I panted wantonly.

“You are so fucking tight,” his gravelly words were strained and as he began thrusting in and out of me faster I lost focus on everything other than him. The happenings on the floor below – forgotten. Any worries about what the hell I was doing – gone.

Because I was a prisoner to the way he made my pulse race under his touch. His smell was everywhere. His fingers shamelessly rubbed circles around my nipple as he stretched me wider with yet another finger. There was a small burn as I adjusted to him inside me, but the tingle of every nerve awakening as he filled me encompassed any small amount of pain.

I was pressing my back against him, needing more of him on and around me, but I couldn’t stay still. When his palm began intentionally hitting my clit as he pumped his hand into me, I felt the orgasm building in my stomach. His mouth was on my neck, his breathing mixed with my own as we gasped fighting for the air we both shared.

I could feel it pressing forward. The ride of pleasure deep in my core snaking its way through my body as my mind was lost to anything other than the dexterity of his touch.

“Fuck, you should feel how hard you make me, my hand gripping your throat while my fingers are in your cunt,” his voice husky with lust as his other hand moved from my chest to collar me.

Unable to refrain, I reached behind and gripped his hair as I unabashedly rode his hand, and in the quiet confines of his office, my orgasm barrelled forward with a scream.

“Fuckkkk!” The exuberance sizzled through my bloodstream as his lips nipped and bit while I embraced the momentum of the aftermath. The admiration he showered me with, the obvious restraint in his voice while he governed my body was the hottest experience of my life. Who effing knew someone could do that with only their hands and a gravelly aroused voice.

“That was hot,” I panted, my breathing still heavy, my body still twitching from my release.

Slowly removing his fingers he came and stood in front of me. His eyes were pure fire and my cheeks felt warm, flushed with a post-orgasmic flush for the ages because I never knew it could be like that and I wanted that again. Now.

“The hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” his husky agreement exemplifying the truth in his words. Bringing his hand to his mouth, he sucked his fingers clean.

Good lord. If it were possible, I just witnessed the immaculate conception if it were a sight.

My eyes widened at how bold he was and I longed to give him the same pleasure – to show him I wanted more. I reached for his belt, not entirely sure what I was going to do but knowing I wanted to try. As if he knew my thoughts before I did, he entwined our fingers, halting any plans I had of turning the tables, and brushed a soft kiss to my temple.

I was perplexed. Baffled that there was no rush for me to reciprocate. No guilt that it had thus far been all about me.

I’d thought about him everyday since we met and now I wanted him with a ferocity I never knew possible. His eyes moved to my lips and I took a shaky breath, hoping, but not moving. Why I was scared to kiss him when he’d literally just sucked my juices from his fingers, was beyond me but I was suddenly shy.

My gaze flickered around his face, my body encouraging me forward and just as I was about to cover his lips with my own, he rushed me.

He tasted like whiskey and sex – my new favourite flavour combination.

I was butter in his hands and if he hadn’t been holding my hip with his other hand, I was certain my knees would have buckled from the pleasure that licked its way up my spine.

A groan vibrated through his chest and into my own, sending a shiver down my body as I sank into him. Our tongues battling as the pure passion within the kiss exploded into the space around us.

I couldn’t get enough. I’d let him touch me and bring me to release before I even let him kiss me tonight and the unexpected surprise of this cemented it as a contender for most memorable moment in the life of .

With one hand in my hair and the other rubbing my back, he niggled his way into my entire body. My mind was a concoction of conflicting emotions but one thing I knew above all else was that this sexy club owner, with his darkly mysterious eyes and god damn enigmatic scent, had destroyed me for anyone else.