Page 16 of Wild Stars (Rock His World #2)

CHAPTER 16

Mateo

I take my seat next to Dare as Hailee and Richie head for the dance floor. I’ve lost track of Spike and Ines, but knowing what I do of the drummer and the other bassist, I am certain they are flirting up a storm somewhere in the throngs of women surrounding the dance floor.

Dare carefully sips his beer, the same one he’s been nursing since we got here.

After two drinks, I’m starting to feel a little more level.

“Why aren’t you out there?” I inquire, curious. “With the rest of your band?”

Dare shifts in his seat next to me, his arm brushing mine lightly as he rolls the beer glass between his palms.

“Just not feeling it tonight, I guess,” he replies, his voice soft and shy. I follow his gaze as it falls on his brother, and I see Spike and Ines arrive beside them.

Both men hang on their selected victims, as Richie and my sister smile and dance together, and I decide to put an end to this melancholy.

“You could have anyone in this club you want, you know that right?” I suggest, then take a sip of my drink.

Dare turns to me, raising an eyebrow. “How many of those have you had?” he asks, his voice loathsome and full of sarcasm.

I wave him off as I drain my drink. “It doesn’t matter,” I tell him. “The truth is the truth.”

I don’t miss the way his lips perk up at my comment, or the sparkle of mischief in his eye.

“Oh, so you’re the only one who gets to be all bossy, is that it?”

“You’re avoiding the truth, Darren.”

Dare chews on his bottom lip, and I can’t help but let my gaze flash to where he does so.

Remembering the feel of his lips against my own.

His neon orange and pink leopard print shirt makes his tattoos and the muscles of his arms stand out, and the shadows that fall on him from the neon lights behind us make him look wicked.

“And what truth is that, Matty?” he asks, his voice much darker, lower than before.

I lean closer, which forces him back into the tufted leather of the booth.

His dark gaze flashes to mine.

“That you are ten times the man any of them are,” I state, my own voice cracking.

Dare’s shoulders fall. “Yeah, that’s kind of the problem,” he murmurs, his gaze falling to my lips. His voice is full of cynicism.

“I think you misunderstand what I mean.” I swallow harshly. “Spike, Ines... even your brother... they are a dime a dozen. Open up the pages of Rolling Stone, and you’ll find ten, twenty rockstars just like them.”

Dare looks down, and I do not think twice about grabbing him by the chin, startled by my own action. I drop my hand as his eyes widen.

“But there is no one like you.” I move back, needing the space. Because I fear if I do not, I will do much more than grab this man by the chin.

The softness in his voice cuts me like a knife. “You really think so?” he asks, almost as if he does not believe me.

I lick my lips as I consider my words carefully. “I know so, Dare,” I tell him, and it is the truth. “Now get the fuck out there,” I tell him.

I notice the grin forming on his face. “Is that an order, sir?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.

I can’t deny the way it makes my blood pulse, or my cock twitch.

“Yes,” I say without thinking.

Dare only smiles and nods. “You too,” he says as he stands up, offering me his hand. “You can’t watch forever.”

I debate telling him no. Debate staying here in the VIP, where I can safely observe the beautiful flame of Dare Wylde without getting burned.

But I don’t want to sit on the sidelines of the game anymore.

I want to be in it.

Dare clears his throat as he says, “Unless you’re scared. ”

My jaw twitches and it is as if the response is automatic.

No one challenges me quite like Dare.

I grab his hand, and he pulls me up.

“Fuck no, I am not scared of a damn dance floor.”

Dare licks his lips as he chuckles. “Then by all means, old man, show me your moves.”

I follow Dare to the dance floor, where the rest of the band and my sister are.

I’ve never been much to enjoy clubbing, and prefer to dance with strangers, but the thought of dancing with anyone makes me feel uncomfortable.

The heat of the lights makes me feel flushed, and I start to think perhaps the two glasses of whiskey was a bad idea.

After all, it wasn’t top shelf, and I’m far more accustomed to much better quality alcohol.

It doesn’t take long for someone to gravitate toward Dare, just like I knew it wouldn’t.

Dare’s gaze flits to mine, almost as if he is asking permission.

As if he is waiting for me to tell him it’s okay.

But I’m not sure it is.

As the music pounds around us, and bodies bump and grind to the beat, I can’t help but realize that we’ve been here before.

But somehow, this is different.

Because I don’t want him to dance with anyone else.

I want him to dance with me.

I move forward, shaking my head, my gaze fixed on him.

“I’m good, thanks,” Dare says over his shoulder to the dark-haired man behind him.

“Come on, bro, it’s just a dance...” The man’s voice is deep and tinged with drink. He slides his hand around Dare’s waist, pulling him back.

Every part of me reacts to his touch, his attitude.

Dare wriggles a bit in the man’s grasp, trying to remove his hand.

“I believe the man said, no, asshole,” I bark as I come beside them.

Dare freezes, his gaze flashing up at me as the man who is grabbing him tightens his grip.

“Fuck off, I saw him first,” he slurs.

I don’t think twice, I just react.

Because clearly the alcohol has poisoned my brain, and exposure to Dare has turned me fucking feral.

Or more or less, my fist reacts with the idiot’s jaw, and he nearly falls over, and I realize too late I’ve fucked up.

Dare’s pupils dilate and his mouth falls open.

And that’s when I panic.