Page 96 of That's Too Pucking Bad

I shake my head. “I almost feel bad for being the only one without a tattoo.”

Zane steps up behind me, his hands settling on my hips. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice low in my ear. “I’ve got other ways of marking you.”

I laugh, my cheeks heating.

The club is packed, the bass thumping so hard it rattles my chest.

Maya drags Caleb onto the dance floor, and Zane steers me toward a private lounge. The room’s quieter, dimly lit with plush seating and a perfect view of the chaos below.

“Drink?” Zane asks, settling into a corner seat.

“Sure.”

He orders something strong for both of us, then pulls me into his lap.

“Zane!” I yelp, squirming.

“Relax,” he says, his hands firm on my thighs.

The music filters in from outside, pulsing through the walls. Zane’s fingers trace slow patterns on my legs, and my skin’s burning where he touches me.

“You’re tense,” he murmurs.

“I’m not,” I argue, but my voice betrays me.

He smirks, shifting so I’m pressed tighter against him. “You’re sexy as hell when you’re lying.”

I huff, grab my drink, and take a long sip.

A few songs in, Maya and Caleb stumble into the lounge, laughing and out of breath.

“This place is insane!” Maya says, collapsing onto the couch.

“Best night ever,” Caleb agrees, pulling her into his lap.

The hours blur, the drinks keep coming, and before I know it, I’m standing, swaying slightly, while Zane watches me with a look that’s both amused and hungry.

“You’re dancing for me now?” he asks, his voice lazy.

“Maybe.”

I move to the music, my hands on his shoulders, and his hands slide up my thighs, pulling me closer.

“You’re trouble,” he murmurs, his eyes locked on mine.

At some point, an alarm goes off on Zane’s phone.

“What the hell?” I mutter, still half-dancing.

He silences it, standing and pulling me with him. “We’re leaving.”

“What? No! I’m having fun.”

“You’ve got class in a few hours,” he reminds me.

I pout, planting a kiss on his cheek. “Buzzkill.”

He smirks. “You’ll thank me later.”

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