Page 29 of The Devil Can Be Kind

The only thing I could think of to keep myself entertained was to get out onto the dance floor, but to do that by myself I needed to be drunker.Muchdrunker.

I ordered three shots of tequila, downed them one after another and then handed Alonso my clutch bag.

“I’ll be on the dance floor!” I yelled and sashayed off.

I quickly mingled with the crowd and started moving to the beat. The numbness of the alcohol started to bleed its way through my system, erasing all my worries and boredom with it as I moved.

God, I’ve missed this!

I rocked my hips to the heavy rhythm, and after a couple of songs, my dancing seemed to attract a fan. He was easy on the eyes in a typical bad-boy way and had an air of confidence that made me smile. We gravitated toward each other until he stood behind me with his hands on my hips. I began moving against him seductively, in time with the music. The guy definitely had moves and it was sexy as hell.

When his hands dropped, gripping dangerously low on my hips, I leaned my head against his shoulder and flashed him my best flirty smile. His head dropped and his lips pressed against my throat for a split second before he jerked away from me.

I stumbled forward violently and closed my eyes, knowing I was falling but incapable of stopping it.

“What the—" I half spluttered.

A strong arm wrapped around my waist, heaving me upright and pressing me against the side of a spicy scented chest.

“Guys, chill out! We were just dancing!” I heard an unfamiliar male voice yell.

I quickly peaked over my shoulder to see the guy I was with being dragged away by Alonso and Wyatt toward the exit. “Speak to me again and I’ll snap your fucking neck,” a powerful and, unfortunately,familiar, voice shouted back.

It was only then that I realized exactly whose side I was pressed against.

Shit.

My dance partner didn’t have time to answer as he was pulled through the crowd. His drunken eyes going in and out of focus as he went.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Marco demanded, pulling me away enough to glare down at me.

It took me a second, but I recovered from my initial shock. “I was dancing.”

“Like a slut?” He snapped. I scowled and tried to push away from him, but his grip was like an iron cage.

“You don’t have to be so mean. I was having fun.” I sulked childishly, crossing my arms across my chest.

The movement did not escape Marco’s attention, and his eyes caught there a moment.

Then a wicked idea came to my drunken mind.

He wants to call me a slut for dancing? Fine, I’ll show him one…

The next song bled into the one before and just as the new rhythm flooded the speakers, I turned in his arms and rolled my ass firmly into his crotch. I reached up my arm and clutched the back of his head in one hand, threading my fingers through his hair before I began moving as sensually as I could against him.

“Ada.”

I heard the warning in his voice but chose to ignore it, preferring to slut drop in front of him instead to give him a good view of my ass.

My blatant boldness stemmed mainly from the alcohol, but I would have been lying if I’d said it had nothing to do with the women in the booth as well. The moment I stood back up his arms wound around me even tighter, holding me still. I could feel his breath tickle against my neck.

“Stop. It.” His voice was tight as he spoke against my ear.

“Why? You don’t like my dancing, Marco?” I asked innocently, turning my face into his neck, leaving only millimeters of air between us.

The muscle in his jaw flicked but he remained silent.

I was getting to him, and it made me feel powerful and giddy all at once.

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