Page 6 of Keep Vegas

“Fine, I’ll have a sip, but then we dance.” I pout a little. He seems like the kind of asshole that wants a girl to be pouty and stupid.

He puts a finger under my chin and lifts it to his face. I try not to wince at what I can only guess is hummus breath. It could be escargot, but it definitely involves garlic.

I clutch my drink and head to the dance floor, and he’s instantly too close. I look around but don’t see my girls. I need an assist ditching this guy, but I can’t quite yet since he just paid for our entire bar tab. I turn around, and he’s on my back, and his hands are on me. I keep turning around like I’m a spinning fool. If I shimmy enough, it will overwhelm him, and he’ll give up. His eyes don’t seem to leave my chest, and mine can’t stop watching his hands. He’s not bad looking at all, and I can handle a handsy guy. I just wish he were someone else.

tony

Well, that’s not fucking happening. I storm across this insane secret club, and Danny points toward Lizzie and Maggie. Colt takes off to go join them. Dan shouts in my ear over the loud music, “I guess you decided.”

I shake him off, laser-focused on some asshole’s hand on what belongs to me. It happened in an instant, and I’m all in now. All the hell in. I’m unclear if it’s just for a night or the entire time we’re here. I’ll have to run it by her, but what is currently happening needs to stop.

I’m vibrating with rage as he feels her arms up and down. I see her not quite responsive, but he doesn’t stop. So, he’s a pig, and he’s touching my things. I stomp onto the dance floor and stand right behind them. She’s spinning around like she’s in some overhead shot in a movie. His hands are poised to catch her, and then he grabs her hips and pulls her towards him. And that’s fucking enough of that.

Things happen quickly. She sees me, drops her cup of whatever she was drinking, and wriggles out of his grip. Her eyes widen as I touch the man’s shoulder; she shakes her head no. Before he can touch her again, I pull on his arm, and he rounds on me. I open my mouth, and he cocks his arm. My face must have been telegraphing my insane anger and jealousy.

Next thing I know I’m on the ground with a solid thud to my face. My eye is fucking exploding, and my cheek is throbbing. The music and lights aren’t helping. I gather myself, ready to get a couple of shots in, but it’s already been taken care of. Colt, Dan, and Big Tex are all up on this man.

All I see are a tangle of legs and arms from my angle, and I have to get out of here. I’ll grab everyone and lead the charge out of here. But first I need to get up. My vision is foggy for a moment, but then I see her quite clearly. Crawling towards me on the dirty speakeasy club floor, through the sticky mess of spilled drinks and who the hell knows what, is my little witch.

She’s grinning, and when she gets to me, she pushes me back down, lies on top of me and shoves her tongue in my mouth. The kiss is heated and downright filthy. In more ways than on given that we’re on the floor. Someone kicks me in the ribs, breaking the spell for a moment.

I kiss her nose. I shout, “MINE.”

She wiggles off me and pops up, lending a hand. I glance around, and Kris is at the back door with a giant wall of a man, and she’s waving to us. The fight is no longer about Makenzie. It’s evolved into some kind of riot. I grab her hand and weave through the crowd. I push, she shoves, and we make it to the door. We exit, and everyone is already in the alley. As the door closes, a man yells in an official tone in French. I’m catching every other word, but none of them are good.

Colt screams, “RUN.” And we all do. I slow down momentarily to check if she can run in her heels, and she keeps up with me. All the girls are screaming, and Danny scoops up Lizzie because she’s lagging behind. He’s running, faster than all of us, with her in his arms.

I, not being quite as athletic, turn to Mak as we continue to run. “I’m not doing that shit, so if that’s what you want, bail now.”

She laughs, bright and breathy. “No. I only want you.”

My heart soars. We’re on the same page. Fuck my parents and their rules. And fuck my brother for screwing it up for me. I can have a girlfriend for three months and be totally fine. They’ll see.

We land around the corner from our dorm at a small place with cheap shitty beer. We sit on squeaky old vinyl stools all lined up at the bar. Mak alternatively kisses me and holds a towel full of ice on my bruised cheek. Even though we’ve only known each other for a week, and I avoided seeing her for days, we’re reuniting like I’ve been off at war. I can’t stop touching her, and we haven’t even gotten to the dirty stuff yet.

We make our own club, dancing to whatever’s on the jukebox. The old guys at the end of the bar join in, and a couple of women on a mom’s night out grind it out too. I look around at the old dusty bar with Christmas twinkle lights draped over the ceiling that resemble a mouth missing teeth with their random burned-out bulbs and try to burn this night into my brain. Because it’s absolutely perfect.

“Fuck, you feel so good. Mak, don’t dance with anyone else for a while. Because I’m not sure I can find someone of your caliber.”

I moan as she puts my dick in her mouth. She sucks and swallows me down until I can’t believe how deep I am. I’m not a small fellow, and she’s an expert at this.

Mak pops off but keeps her hands moving up and down my saliva-slicked cock.

“Caliber of what?”

“Dick handler.” She stops and I sit up and shake my head. “No stopping. There’s no stopping when my head is this hot and angry.”

She laughs and climbs on me. I grab her hips and settle her on top of me. She leans down and her nipples brush my chest as she kisses me. I swear I’m trying to climb into her fucking mouth. I can’t get close enough to her. She’s moaning from the friction, and I gasp; it’s so good.

“Mak. Put me inside of you.” Finally!

“With… wait.” She leaps off me and her stunning naked body is at the foot of the bed instead of riding my dick.

She searches in her little bag, and I realize what’s happening.

“Condom?” I say. And she shakes her head. I have a stocked mini fridge, regulation-sized poker table, and the best sheets money can buy, but I don’t have a fucking condom.

I flop down with a groan.