Page 120 of Jolt's Vengeance

Siren jokes at my growing pile of chips. "Damn, Aggie, you sure you didn't grow up in a casino?"

"Nah, just got some birthday luck," I reply, sending her a wink that sparks another round of laughter.

As the game winds down, the mood shifts.

The music slows to sultry rhythms, and couples start pairing off for slow dances.

Sienna nudges me forward, and I find myself swaying gently in Jolt's arms, his hand warm and steady on my lower back.

"I hope you’re having a very happy birthday, Ghost," he murmurs, his breath warm on my neck.

The sensation sends shivers down my spine, and I tilt my head back to meet his gaze.

"Best birthday yet," I admit, a genuine smile playing on my lips.

The soft glow of the clubhouse lights casts a golden hue over everything, turning the moment into something almost magical.

"Only gets better from here," he assures me, and I actually believe him.

The slow dance becomes less about the rhythm and more about the connection, our bodies moving together instinctively.

My heart flutters as his fingers trace the curve of my waist, pulling me closer.

"Look at them go!" Cobra calls out, his voice teasing but affectionate.

I glance over to see him dancing with Izzy, their movements more suggestive than ours, a playful challenge in their eyes.

Jolt whispers, his lips hovering near mine. "Seems like we've got some competition."

"Let them have their fun," I reply, smiling slyly. "We've got our own kind of celebration."

Around us, the atmosphere thickens, each couple lost in their own world.

After a while, it feels particularly stuffy and I need some air.

"Jolt," I say, my voice barely above the music, "let's take this outside."

He grins, "Lead the way, birthday girl."

Hand in hand, we slip away from the crowd out into the night.

The cool night air hits us, but it does nothing to calm the heat that radiates between us both.

"Aggie," he growls, his voice a low rumble that vibrates through me as we round the corner of the building.

"Shh," I whisper against his lips, silencing any words with a fierce kiss.

My fingers find the hem of his t-shirt, slipping underneath to trace the warm skin of his waist.

His tattoos feel like braille under my touch, each line a story I’m desperate to read over and over.

Jolt's hands are just as eager, skimming down my back to cup my backside, pulling me into him.

His erection presses against me, hard and insistent, and I gasp into his mouth.

There's an urgency in our movements, a roughness spurred on by liquor and raw need.

"Fuck, Aggie..." His hands fumble with the button on my jeans, and I help him, yanking the fabric down along with my underwear in one swift motion.

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