Page 39 of Red My Lips

“I love this song.” Instead of losing my rhythm, I continue to dance with Gage’s hands on my waist.

“Mmmm, so do I.” Gage’s grip loosens to let me move freely, but he doesn’t remove his hands. I lift my mostly-empty drink over my head as I move to the music, tossing my hair from side to side.

“Your feet must be tired, Menace.” He leans back and pats his lap. “Come here.” I’ll admit it’s a tempting offer—my feet are killing me, and I’m just tipsy enough to be unsteady in these heels. But if I allow him to reel me in, I won’t be able to untangle myself from him until I’ve had my fill, or he has. I’m not ready to call it a night, and I’m not about to ditch Lana.

“In that weak-ass chair? Don’t count on it,” I scoff, giving the chair major side-eye. “The chairs in this place can barely handle all of this.” I shake my hips to make a point.

There’s no way they’ll hold up the both of us. And don’t get me started on the ones with arms—whoever designed those clearly has something against women who have any junk in the trunk.

“Jill, come take shots with me!” Lana calls. I look over to find her at the shots bar waving me over.

“Hell yeah! I’m coming.” I shout with a grin. Turning back, I decide to steal one last kiss. Gage’s hands tangle in my hair as our lips move together, our tongues dancing as we devour each other. I pull back when I start to lose my breath, leaning in close to speak in his ear.

“When I’m in bed tonight touching myself, I’ll be thinking of you.” I lean back and bite my lip with a smile at how his gaze sharpens with hunger. “Have fun watching. I know you will be.”

With that, I’m pushing out of his grasp and strutting away from him. I don’t have to look back to see if he’s still watching—I know he is. The familiar weight of his gaze on me as I cross the dancefloor to the bar is exhilarating.

“Damn, babe. That was hot. Do you need a minute?” Lana teases, giving me a knowing look. I’m so turned on that if Gage walked over to fuck me on the bar right now, I’d let him. My vibrator is definitely getting some action tonight.

“I need a shot,” I declare, reaching for one of the hellfire shots lined up on the counter.

“Cheers to us and the obsessed men who can’t get enough.” Lana holds out her glass for me to clink before we both toss back the liquor. The fireball scorches all the way down, the cinnamon mixing with jalapeno for an added kick. I squeeze my eyes shut and enjoy the burn—it hurts so good.

“Speaking of men obsessed,” I say, making Lana groan. “Were you going to tell me Christos was still in town? I thought he was supposed to leave like a week ago.”

“He was. His plans changed, that’s all.” Lana tries to shrug it off, but I can see right through her. Now, it’s my turn to give her a knowing look.

“You mean he changed his plans for you,” I counter. “Tell me he’s not sticking around to try and convince you to sail away with him.”

“He can try all he wants. I’m not going,” she insists. “I have a life here. I’m not just going to drop everything to spend the summer with a man facing RICO charges.”

“Do you want to go? Maybe you should go dark for a little while. You know your job will be there when you get back.”

“Christos is fun fling material, but that’s where it ends. I’d never marry the guy, he’s completely unstable. Besides, there will always be more men to invite me on their yachts. Jewelry and shoes are nice, but they don’t replace the little things. I want a man who buys me Ferragamo then helps me take my makeup off before bed after I drank too much at dinner. Until then, I’ll let men whose dicks match the size of their bank account wine and dine me.”

Lana’s definitely more of a romantic than I am. We always joke just how fitting her last name is. While I want turbulent passion and mutual obsession, she craves a love like an iron fist in a velvet glove—someone who will tenderly braid her hair before pulling it.

I want that for her. If anyone deserves to find the love of their life, it’s Lana.

“We’re not going to settle,” I state. “I know there are men who are perfect for the both of us out there, and we’ll find them.”

“Or, in your case, he’ll find you and follow you like a shadow,” Lana laughs, making my heart skip a beat. My eyes stray across the club to where Gage sits, exactly where I left him. Our eyes meet just as one of the servers, Rene, leans down to hand him a drink that looks like cognac. His eyes never move from me when he takes the glass and brings it to his lips.

“I don’t think perfect is the word I’d use to describe Gage.” There are a million other descriptions on the tip of my tongue, but perfect isn’t one of them. Lana follows my gaze.

“Jill, that man over there is so perfectly matched to you it’s actually a little scary. But you can deny it for a little longer if you want.”

“Well, I’m denying it,” I say, pulling my eyes away. Gage is a good fuck, but he’s a complicated man. And that isn’t a web I’m mentally able to handle right now.

Maybe when I’m sober.

“Whatever you say. Do what you want.”

Exhaustion washes over me, the aching of my muscles settling in with the fatigue. I’m drunk, horny, and ready to go to bed. “I want to go home.”

“Are you going home with him tonight? It sure looks like he wants you to.”

“No, I’m going home to my place, in my own bed.” With my vibrator.

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