Page 8 of Rookie Mistake

She curls her finger in a come-hither motion, then slides her palms down the front of her body, rolling her hips with each pulse of the beat. The tight dress hugging her curves inches higher on her creamy thighs, and I bite back a groan.

I’m mostdefinitelyfucked.

“C’mon. Dance with me,Loverboy,” she whispers as she steps closer and wraps her fingers around the loose tie on my neck, slowly tugging me toward her.

Yep.

Fucked.

“You’re trouble, you know that?” I murmur. My hand splays along the curve of her hip, the smooth satin of her dress glidingbeneath my palm as I move it to her lower back and yank her forward until she’s flush against my front. My gaze drops to the hint of dark ink that peeks out from between her tits, trailing down her chest. Her nipples are taut and pebbled against the satin. “Somuch fucking trouble.”

“Yeah, well, what’s life without a little trouble? Makes things so much more fun.”

In a beat, she turns, my arm still hooked around her waist as she rocks her ass against my dick, which is hardening by the second. My palm splays along her lower stomach, fisting in the material of her dress when her body rolls against mine, pulling a choked groan from me.

Her head drops back against my chest, and her eyes fall shut as we move together, in sync with the beat pulsing around us.

I feel her hand slide over the top of mine on her stomach, intertwining our fingers, and then she slowly drags it up her body over the flat expanse of her stomach to her rib cage until my hand rests along the curve of her tit. An inch higher and I could cup it in my hand, feeling the weight, rolling her taut nipple between my fingers until she cries out.

I dip my head to her ear. “You’re playing with fire. I’m two seconds from bringing you into the bathroom and seeing if you taste as good as you look,Trouble.I’ve been dying to since the moment I saw you in that crowd.”I sweep my thumb along the sensitive underside of her breast, causing her breath to hitch and my dick to twitch in my slacks.

Zara turns, her eyes shining with heat, a smirk toying with her pretty red lips as she trails a finger down the exposed part of my chest. “I came here for karaoke and drinks, Loverboy. Sorry.”

My lips curve as I sweep a hand toward the stage. “Then, by all means,Trouble, lead the way.”

I watch as she tosses me a smile and then turns and walks toward the bar, her curvy hips swaying with each step. She’s allof five foot two, but those legs go on for fucking days, and I want to put them over my shoulders while I fuck the shit out of her until she screams.

When I make it over to the long reclaimed wood bar, she’s laughing with the bartender, who looks to be in his sixties with a haggard, white beard that reaches the middle of his chest. He’s wearing a leather cut on top of a faded black T-shirt with a bandana covered in flames around his head.

“What’s your poison?” Zara asks.

I shrug. “What’s yours?”

Raking her teeth over her bottom lip, she turns back toward the bartender. “Two shots of Fireball, please, Ernie.”

The bartender, apparentlyErnie, nods with a wink that crinkles the corners of his eyes. “You got it, gorgeous.”

Once he walks down to the opposite side of the bar, I lean forward, dipping my lips to her ear. “How’d you pull that off?”

She’s a freshman, so obviously not old enough to buy a shot at the bar, yet the bartender didn’t bat an eye when she ordered.

She stares up at me through thick, dark lashes and lifts her hand, flashing an ID between her fingers. “Graduation gift from my cousin Jeremiah.”

“Ah. I knew you weren’t a rule follower.”

“Rules are boring, Loverboy.” She laughs as she slides onto the barstool in front of her, then tucks her ID back in her purse. “And boring isnotfun.”

I slide onto the stool beside her just as Ernie returns, sliding two shot glasses full of amber-colored alcohol across the bar to us.

“Thanks, Ernie.”

“Anytime, doll. Holler if you need me.”

Zara nods, then reaches for the shot and lifts it in the air, offering me a playful smirk. “To spontaneous dates with strangers.”

“And… to girls called Trouble,” I add, clinking the glass against hers.

Together, we toss back the alcohol. It sears its way down my throat like it’s forging actual fucking fire, and I slam the glass back onto the bar with a shake of my head.

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