Page 36 of Creed

Remembering the warning the bouncer gave us I lean over in my seat, shouting over the music. “Ri—” but she stops me, holding her hand out, never breaking eye contact with my best friend. I can’t tear my eyes away from the scene before me with the way this tiny dancer fits perfectly in Riley’s lap. I’m rock hard just from watching the two of them and their eye contact alone.

The song finishes and another by some guy I’ve heard all over social media starts to play and she climbs off of Riley and immediately begins a new dance to the music. It seems to take her no time at all to make her decision this time around when her attention shifts to me.

Holy shit. Being the subject of her attention is a whole new experience itself. She fucking oozes sensuality and sex. The way the emerald-green outfit shines in the low light, hugging her every delicious curve is intoxicating. Inviting. My hands are itching to squeeze her curves and pull her closer, just to rip that outfit from her body and find out what she’s hiding beneath it.

She spins in front of me, facing away and nearly standing directly between my wide-spread legs when she bends in half and slowly drags her hands up and over her legs until she’s standing again. Her hands land just above her perky round ass when the upper half of her body twists toward me.

The urge to reach down and squeeze my hardening cock is hard to tamper down when she bites into that full lower lip. Then she winks. Fucking winks at me. I feel my entire body heat at the simple action. I’m practically vibrating with need and I ball my hands into fists to keep from grabbing and pulling her into my lap and keeping her there for the rest of the night.

She turns to fully face me, her hips swaying to the beat before she leans forward and presses her perfectly round tits toward my face before crawling into my lap just like she did to Riley just moments ago.

The closer proximity gives me a better view of her beautiful, albeit painted face. Her face, now mere inches from mine, I see them. The subtle yet familiar marks on her skin that create a map that is all her. A small scar cutting just beneath her brow from hitting her head when she was six. The cluster of darker freckles on her right cheek, just below her eye, that look oddly just like the little dipper constellation. Pieces click together and recognition hits me like a sucker-punch to the dick when she lowers her gaze to mine and I’m met with a pair of all-too-familiar jade green eyes. It’s like my heart has been branded with a hot iron and having ice water dumped over me all at once.

Being this close to her, breathing the same fucking air, I see the exact moment she recognizes me, too. Her entire body freezes and I think she’s stopped breathing. I don’t think I am either because what the actual fuck.

The whole world stops spinning. Everyone ceases to exist. Everyone except for Collins Adaire Weston. I’m sorry, Star—FUCKING STAR, of all stage names—who gave my best friend the most erotic lap dance I’ve ever seen. Collins,who is currently straddling my waist and hovering over my raging erection. A fucking erection that I thought I had for a dancer who moved like sin incarnate, who I thought would take my mind off of the guilt eating at me tonight. Oh, but the joke is on me because this woman who looks like a shiny little present, artfully strapped into this shiny contraption actually is the very reason for my guilt. The reason I haven’t looked at any other women. My obsession that…Just. Won’t. Quit.

Despite the many fantasies that have featured her in my mind, I can’t have her like this.

Not when she’s dressed like?—

When she’s straddling?—

Not when she feels?—

FUCK. I can’t even string together a normal thought.

This isn’t right. There are too many eyes on her body and I also need to get her off of me ASA-fucking-P, before I touch her the way I’ve been fantasizing about for nearly two years. But humiliating her by shoving her off of me like a sack of hot potatoes just because I’m panicking on the inside isn’t an option either, so before she can even blink I grab her wrists and flip us sideways on the couch where her body is trapped underneath mine.

Clearly I didn’t think this through because this position is exponentially worse, with her body trapped beneath me and my legs pressed between her toned thighs.

A small, rasping squeak is forced from her throat and all hell breaks loose. No sooner does the sound leave her lips, that the lights are brightened and I’m being ripped away, my back slamming into the wall with Nightmare the Bouncer-Man pressing his forearm against my throat. I can see Bear and Riley shouting and shoving off of the couch in front of me before Riley bends down and gently lifts Collins into a sitting position.

Always the calm in the chaos.

Despite all the shit going down and the threat of death by asphyxiation by the behemoth pinning me to the wall, I can’t help but keep my eyes trained on Collins, loving and hating the way she looks like a beautiful mess.

She turns toward my boys and her whole body tenses when I’m assuming she recognizes Bear. That assumption is confirmed when she whispers his name.

It takes him a minute before it hits him, his eyes widening and lips parting in shock. It’s the first real emotion he’s shown in years. His eyes flick to mine for a split second before dropping back to her small frame sitting on the edge of the couch cushion. “Holy shit.”

The bouncer’s voice is shockingly gentle as he asks her what to do with us, effectively cutting off any further comments or conversations from my bandmates. His tenderness towards her just pisses me off. Who is he to her? Are they…? Shit, he looks to be twice her age, at least, but age gap in adults means fuck all these days. The soft, answering rasp of her voice washes over me and my fiery irritation snuffs out like a balm my charred soul didn’t know it needed, telling him she wanted to talk to me… alone.

Fuck. Me.

He releases me roughly and I rub at my throat as he turns to leave but barks the order to get Tony’s ass off his couch. I watch as Riley chuckles uncomfortably to himself and Bear just grunts as they haul our bassist to his feet. Riley gives me a small smile and Bear nods and gives me a knowing look before they leave the room.

Then it’s just me and her.

Ten. Fucking. Years. Later.

She’s here. I’ve found her.

…in the worst fucking place imaginable.

I’m fucking angry. Pissed. Upset. Sad.

Relieved.

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