Page 11 of One Bad Knight
The hairs on the back of my neck rose. Those eyes were focused on me with unerring intensity.
As I danced and the lights pulsated in different colors, I couldn’t see who they belonged to. But they pierced me. Made me feel exposed in the middle of a crowd.
Then the lights settled, and the beat dropped, both pieces of sensory overload falling away like gauzy curtains drifting to the floor. A face came into view. My breath caught in my chest.
The man had a hard, dangerous look that hit me like a physical blow. From his hard, square jaw covered in unruly stubble, to the way he stared at me through the sandy hair that fell in his eyes. He wore a black shirt that clung to his muscled chest. Black ink crawled up his neck and down his exposed arms in elaborate tattooed designs. Everything about him screamed trouble with a capital T.
Suddenly it was hard to swallow. Hard to breathe. His eyes pierced through me, as though he could see everything inside of me—all the dark and light bits struggling in the daily chaos of life. The floor all but disappeared under me, but I was grounded in those eyes as if they were my only gravity.
My hand itched to slash blacks and blues across a canvas until his broad, foreboding form emerged from the darkness. I’d never been so struck by the need to paint before. I was overwhelmed by the strong sense that I would die if I didn’t get hold of a paintbrush soon.
My dancing lost its luster. In an attempt to brush off the man’s attention, I went back to swaying my hips and focused on my dance partner. As my dance partner drew near, the foot of distance closed to mere inches. The scent of his strong cologne mixed with that of cheap beer.
Without even looking, I could feel the man across the room move. Slowly, steadily, he weaved his way through the crowd. My skin prickled under his unerring gaze, and I felt as though a predator was stalking me.
My partner’s hands fell to rest on my hips. I couldn’t help but feel a flash of anxiety zip along my skin. I got the strange sense I’d done something wrong with this other man watching, but I shook it off.
This was where I came to be free. I refused to be intimidated by the judgement of some rando with a face carved by renegade angels. I attempted to lose myself to the dance again, intending to reclaim my buzz.
My dance partner’s movements stalled, and his half-lidded eyes widened. Shooting an apologetic, and slightly fearful, smile, he mumbled something I couldn’t hear before turning and heading back in the direction of the bar.
Prickles of danger raced up my spine, as I sensed the presence of someone taller and broader coming up from behind. I shivered. When I tried to turn toward him, strong hands grabbed my hips, keeping me facing forward.
He immediately set me into a rhythm that was half time to the music. Time slowed down, as a muscled wall met my bare back. I could feel the ridges of his warm pectorals, and the contact felt pornographic for such a public place.
Whereas my previous partner made eye contact, getting nonverbal consent to dance with me, this guy had come up from behind and encroached on my space. No matter how titillating I found this man, I had standards. I jerked away, ready to head to the other side of the bar and away from the dangerous entity at my back. But his fingers dug into my hips, pulling me back against him again. He didn’t want me facing him or walking away.
The combination of the rough movement and the intoxicating scent of sex pheromones and virile man rolled over me. Despite myself, my knees turned to jelly and liquid heat gathered at my center. Visions of what else his rough hands could do ran through my imagination.
I was so used to being treated like a porcelain doll; I almost welcomed his brazen moves. But I still didn’t submit to anyone, no matter how hot.
I tilted my head to the side, so he could hear me when I shouted. “You chased my date away.”
I could only catch the wicked curve of his lips, and another ripple raced down my spine, informing my brain how screwed I was. Because a lower portion of my body was now in charge.
The man aligned his mouth to the side of my head, so he didn’t have to shout. His hot breath fanned against my ear and my nipples instantly tightened. “You were dancing with me before I came over.”
“Who says I want to dance with you?” Even as I said the words, an achy heat spread between my legs, and I squeezed them together as if I could keep the sudden wetness at bay. The bass of the music traveled up my feet, past my legs, penetrating my lower belly, only making it worse.
“Who says we ever stopped?” His voice rumbled through the column of my neck.
Before I could make sense of his response, his hardness ground against my ass. My mouth went dry. With an instinctual shift in my hips, I directed him to rub along the sensitive seam of my rear.
I might have needed the occasional wild night out, but that didn’t usually include one-night stands. I hadn’t even let Jimi get past first base.
Despite his firm grasp on my hips, a soft caress started at my collarbone, then swept upward. The man was trailing his lips up my neck. They traced a line of fire up my exposed flesh. Though his mouth didn't latch on, I could sense him inhaling me as if I were a kind of drug.
Then his grasp on me turned painful. Still, there was only the barest, fluttering contact of his lips on my throat, despite his almost violent grip. Why did his bruising hold send more wetness to my center?
“You want me to fuck you right here on the dance floor?” he asked against my ear. “Where that poor idiot can see?”
I tried to pull away, but he held me fast, and if I were honest, I didn’t struggle that hard.
He continued to speak low, hypnotizing me as I craved each word after the next. “I would lift your leg and let that stiletto dig into my shoulder while lapping up that honey nectar between your legs, to let everyone here know the queen you are.”
A groan ripped out of my throat, and my panties were officially a slip-and-slide. Still, I protested. “I don’t want them to know who I am.”
Suddenly, I was afraid he did. I was afraid he knew my family and maybe their friends.