Page 36 of Rookie Mistake

With my arms lifted in the air, I sway my hips to the beat, my eyes dropping closed as I lose myself in the music.

Suddenly, I feel the heat of a body behind me and an unfamiliar voice near my ear. “Damn, baby, you look hot as fuck in that dress.” An arm snakes around my waist, hauling me backward, and when I glance behind me, I see a tall, blond guy who I don’t know.

“Not interested, pal, sorry,” I clip as I pull his arm off my waist and step away. But idiot stranger pulls me back, locking his arm back around my waist, holding me tightly against him.

“Don’t fucking touch me.”

I can smell the foul stench of alcohol on him, and even if he wasn’t being a handsy asshole, the smell alone would be enough for me not to want to be anywhere in the vicinity of him.

Guys can be such dicks.

I’m whipping around to tell him to fuck right off when suddenly, he’s gone, the smell of stale beer and cheap liquorlingering in the air between us. I turn and see Davis standing there, his jaw clenched so tightly it looks like it’s going to snap.

His eyes are dark and full of fury as he uses both hands to shove idiot stranger backward, where he stumbles and topples to the floor. “She said don’t fucking touch her. Got a hearing problem or just a drunk asshole problem?”

Holy. Fuck.

God, how is he even hotter right now? Violence doesn’t normally do it for me, but a possessive, angry Davis absolutely does.

His chest is heaving as he stands between us, pushing me behind him with one big, shaking palm.

The drunk idiot on the ground raises his hands in surrender as he scrambles away from Davis, the crowd parting for the fight that’s about to happen. I drag my gaze from him and scan the crowd for Oliver, thankfully not finding him anywhere.

“Hey, man, I didn’t mean anything. I just wanted to dance with her,” the guy stutters, and Davis takes a menacing step forward.

“Yeah, well, when a woman says don’t fucking touch her, then youdon’tfucking touch her, dickhead.”

I can feel the situation escalating by the second, palpable tension hanging in the air around us, so I step between them, sliding my palms along the smooth skin of Davis’s biceps. His gaze darts down to me as he breathes heavily. I watch the muscle in his jaw ripple as he clenches his teeth together, his hands fisted tightly at his sides.

“Hey. Hey. Look at me,” I say as I bring my hand to his jaw to cup it, sweeping my thumb along his jawline. “He’s not worth it.” His jaw clenches beneath my hand, and I continue to stroke his skin, rising on my tiptoes to place my lips as close to his ear as I can. He needs a distraction; I can feel the fury still rolling offhim, and I have the perfect one. “If you could only feel how wet I am right now. I’m so hot for you right now, Davis Guidry.”

A low chuckle vibrates from his chest, and I smirk, pulling back to gaze up at him. Finally, I feel his anger starting to disappear. He shoots one last murderous look at the guy behind me, but I guide his face back to me. “How about we go somewhere and I can show you just how much you being all possessive just turned me on?”

His eyes flare, and his lip curves up. “Meet me on the third floor. Last door to the right.”

I nod and turn to head in that direction, but his hand catches mine, stopping me. “Bring my favorite lipstick, Trouble.”

A shiver runs down my spine, and my nipples pebble as his words wash over me.

Unhinged,filthyDavis is here, and he’s ready to play.

I wouldn’t callmyself obedient. Not by a long shot. I’ve always been the kind of girl who thrives on chaos, anarchy, defiance. It’s in my blood.

That is until Davis Guidry.

I’m currently on my knees, my hands resting on his thighs as he stares down at me. Anticipation snakes heavily down my spine while my thighs are pressed tightly together, an attempt at dulling the steady ache inside my core.

“Good girl. You wore it,” he rasps darkly, the rough pad of his thumb dragging along my lower lip and smearing his favoritelipstick. YSL Le Rouge, my signature color. The one he’s beenobsessedwith since the night we met.

The throbbing in my clit intensifies with his praise, and I realize in this moment just how obedient I’d be for this man, in whatever he asked for.

“You look so fucking pretty on your knees for me, Zara. My dick is already hard as fuck,” he murmurs.

When I brush my fingers over his erection, he hisses and clenches his teeth, those tight muscles in his jaw working with the motion. After the fight that almost happened earlier, I can feel the adrenaline still coursing through him. The slightest tremble to his muscles as if he’s holding on to a small, fraying thread of restraint.

I want it to break, letting out the man lurking beneath the surface.

A piece of him reserved only for me.

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