Page 50 of One Sweet Lie

“Oh, thanks.” I smiled, and she handed me a drink.

“A guy in VIP wanted me to give that to you. He’s emitting some 'morally grey', but potentially 'cinnamon roll,’ with a hint of 'he could fall first' after 'just one night' type of aura.”

“Can you give me the non-romance-author translation, please?”

“He's a very nice businessman who wants to dance with you, and potentially take you home for a one night stand.”

“I’ll pass on everything except the dance.”

The only guy I wanted to have sex with was far across town with his children, and I knew that would never happen.

“Did I tell you that William is trying to crawl?” I asked. “He does this rocking thing on his knees like he’s tempted to go for it so it’s only a matter of time.”

“You told me that days ago.” She shot me a pointed look through the glass. “I believe it was after you sent me a picture of Charlotte bobbing her head to a song.”

“I think Olivia is being bullied at school.” I tapped my lip. “I was reading one of her homework assignments, and she was?—”

“Stop. Stop this right now.” She placed her hands on my shoulders. “You’re not wasting your first and maybe last, off-weekend to talk about your job.”

“I’m worried about her,” I said. “She doesn’t have any friends.”

“Harlow, snap out of it before Islapyou out of it!” She glared at me. “We came here because we want to forget about our problems. Your egomaniac boss, his sweet twins, and his little devil niece don’t exist tonight. Clear?”

“Clear.”

“We’re dancing with hot guys who will buy us drinks, and then we’ll do it again at another club, until we’re completely fucked up and feel like getting an Uber home. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

She looped her arm in mine and pulled me onto the packed dance floor.

The music blared so loudly that the walls shook.

I shut my eyes and swayed to the beat.

After ten songs without hearing a baby’s cries or getting an alarm about a task that needed to be done ASAP, I felt free.

Oh, I’ve missed this…

As the DJ shuffled to a bass-heavy mix, strong hands gripped my waist from behind.

He swayed along with me, matching me beat for beat. With every song transition, he adjusted his tempo, forcing me to follow his lead.

Grinding on him, I felt his cock hardening against me.

“Do you fuck as good as you dance?” I asked, but he didn’t answer.

He probably didn’t hear me.

Unbearably horny, I grabbed his left hand and pulled it toward the front of my dress.

I’d never let a stranger touch me here, but the way he was moving against me was compounding the urge. My body was begging me to let him.

I pushed up the fabric, silently giving him the go-ahead to touch me, to make me slip away from this darkness, but he stalled.

“Please touch me,” I whispered. “Please…”

His hand didn’t move, so I vowed to move on to someone else.

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