Page 220 of Securing the Pucking Rebound

While we might spend evenings in here up in the VIP area, I’m no stranger to the main dance floor. I’m not ashamed to say that I’ve picked up more women than I can count on a night out down here.

Tonight, though, I only have sights for one woman.

I know what she’s wearing; the little minx made sure to send me a photo of her in her sequined red dress before she left her apartment earlier. It’s not just the sexy little dress that makes the photo so hot; though, it’s the sparkle in her eyes. The confidence she wears that drew me in that first day she turned up at the ranch, and did exactly the same in this very club all those months ago.

I search the club, ducking around drunk patrons, arguing couples and others that really need to get a room. I do a sweep of the bar but come up empty-handed.

I come to a stop at the very far corner, and I’m about to message Bea to ask if they’ve already moved on when I get a flash of red.

Even the smallest sighting is enough to have my dick jumping to attention.

Pocketing my cell, I push forward, my eyes locked on the woman I can’t get out of my head.

Thankfully, the people between us move as I begin marching toward them with no intention of slowing down.

My breath catches as Sienna fully turns her back on me.

Holy shit. Her dress is backless.

My eyes run down the creamy expanse of her back, all the way to where her dress starts just above her ass.

My mouth waters, and my semi aches in my pants.

Goddamn…this woman was sent to kill me, I’m sure.

One of the other girls from the salon notices me first, and she quickly nudges the one beside her, jerking her chin in my direction as I close the space between my woman and me.

Both of them light up with excitement, and soon, Sienna is the only one of her little group who’s oblivious to what’s about to happen.

As I close in on her, I forget that they’re there, that they’re watching. My focus is solely on my girl.

My girl.

Fuck. I’ve waited so long to be able to say that.

My fingers twitch with the need to touch her as I step up behind her.

Her hair tickles the side of my face a beat before I grab her hips and press the length of my body against her.

She startles, her entire body tensing the second I touch her, but the moment I lean in close and whisper in her ear, she relaxes.

“This dress has got me all kinds of messed up, darlin’.”

This time, when she moves, I release my hold on her hips enough for her to spin around in my arms.

“Calvin,” she breathes, staring up into my eyes.

Bea was right; she’s been drinking. Her eyes are a little bloodshot and unfocused.

She throws her arms around my neck and holds me close.

“You’re here,” she slurs as if she was expecting me. “Why are you here?” she asks, suddenly looking confused.

“A little birdy told me you were here and a little drunk, and that maybe you’d need a strong, hot man to help you home.”

She swats my chest. “Bea did not say that.” She giggles as if she’s just said the funniest thing.

“She might have,” I argue.