Page 4 of Frat Row

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She arches her eyebrow at me, catching my eye in the mirror, and asks, “I can tell this is your first time here, right?”

“Wow, is it that obvious?” I ask sheepishly, looking her in the eye.

Her eyes look lifeless as if her soul has been completely removed from her body, and this is just a regular night for her. It instantly gave me chills and a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Take my advice and get out of here as soon as you possibly can, and don’t ever come back,” she says angrily and then abruptly leaves the bathroom as if she is scared of something. I gape at her in shock while rapidly drying my hands, not even caring that the paper towel didn’t land in the wastebasket, and I scurry out of there.

CHAPTER FIVE

Bewildered by what just happened, I head back to the bar to find Blair thankfully still sitting in the same chair I left her in. We need to get the hell out of here without drawing too much attention. Not surprisingly, she ordered us another round of drinks. I slide into the chair next to her and snatch my drink, swallowing the entire thing in one gulp and taking the woman’s advice to get out of here as quickly as humanly possible. Decisively, I face Blair. Catching her eye, I say in a panic, “We need to go back upstairs right this second.”

She must have seen the crazed look in my eyes because she instantly nods and says, “Lead the way, girl; let's get out of here.” She jumps up so fast and doesn’t even bother to finish her drink.

We link arms as we try to avoid attracting any unwanted attention, heading back for the stairs that lead up to the club. I hold my breath until we reach the top of the stairs, seeing the booth where our cell phones are. The line to retrieve them is long, and my hands are sweating while I fidget impatiently, worrying someone is going to pull us back downstairs. After waiting for what feels like an eternity, we retrieve them, walk back into the club, and head straight to the dance floor. I let out the breath I had been holding until we got through the door and let relief wash over me.

Blair, no doubt feeling the side effects of the large amount of alcohol she has consumed, throws her head back and starts moving her hips to some song I’ve never heard of, but she figures out the beat fast. I reach for her hand, laughing, and join her, moving my hips back and forth to the rhythm. I’m not as good a dancer as she is; however, that doesn’t seem to matter as plenty of lingering eyes are focused on us.

The relief swimming through my mind from getting out of the basement in one piece sends me into oblivion mentally. I let go of the racing adrenaline coursing through me and let my body flow even more than I normally do dancing.

“This is out of character for you,” Blair yells over the music.

“It’s our last night of being spontaneous and wild,” I yell back at her, grinning mischievously.

“Well, dance your heart out, babe,” Blair responds humorously.

After only a few minutes of dancing, I have this feeling that someone is watching me. Spinning around swiftly, not wanting to look too obvious, my eyes instantly lock with deep blue eyes that remind me of a storm brewing in the sea. The most gorgeous eyes I have ever seen. This man looks like a sculpture Michael Angelo carved himself, with the ripples of muscle showing through his red V-neck shirt. His medium build withwide shoulders and dark brown hair looks like something out of a magazine. I would guess his height to be at least 6’3”.

Pure perfection. I glance down and see him wearing tight jeans with white Jordans, drooling at the sight of him. He has style as well?

Jackpot.

He is surrounded by a few guys who are clearly engaged in a deep conversation, but he isn’t paying them any attention. His eyes never left me as soon as he spotted me, and haven’t since we locked eyes. It’s as if some kind of dark possession has taken over him, giving me a deep, sultry look while taking an aggressive sip of his beer.

My skin heats as he continues to stare at me as if he is picturing me with my clothes off and fucking me roughly. I can’t deny I’d be completely into that.

I feel daring, knowing rush starts tomorrow and then school directly after. My first semester is full of hard classes. I don’t have time for men or dating of any sort. I prefer one-night stands anyway; commitment isn’t really for me.

Moving myself behind Blair, we begin moving our hips in sync with one another. Since I am taller than her, I always dance behind her. My hands go to her small waist, gripping each side. She arches her shoulders back into me while rolling her body in one single motion seductively, entirely overcome with the music. The club is so hot, and we are both glistening with sweat. The mysterious guy’s eyes start to darken, and his jaw instantaneously tightens with outrage as if he can’t just sit in the shadows anymore and watch other men leer at me.

After a few moments, I can tell his self-control doesn’t win out, and he places his empty beer on one of the small high tops scattered throughout the club and starts stalking over in my direction.

CHAPTER SIX

I’m staring at one of the sexiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on, with her chestnut hair, curvy body, and toned legs. As soon as I saw her walk onto the dance floor, I knew I had to have a taste of her. Her friend is dancing with her, but there are plenty of guys eye fucking them, lined up and waiting for a turn with either one. Arrogantly, I stalk right up behind her and glare at the guy grinding on her, daring him to say something as I shove him away. He stumbles back and leaves the dance floor quickly, not even looking behind him.

Stepping behind her, I place one hand on her hip, possessively holding on tightly as she moves her body against mine. Grinding to the music, she moves her ass over my semi-erect cock, teasing me. To be honest, I was already horny asfuck watching her dance with her friend. But now, having my hands on her body and feeling her thong through her tight skirt, my dick is begging for some kind of release. I have always considered myself a decent dancer and can sense she enjoys dancing with me.

She tosses her head back to gather her hair and put it to one side, and the smell of it invades my senses as I inhale deeply; damn, she smells like lavender and honey; I am intoxicated.

My other hand finds her other hip, and after a few moments, I glide one of my hands up the side of her body, over her arm, and up her neck, applying pressure to her throat just under her jaw and leaning her head back. I tower over her, using it to my advantage to control her, and growl in her ear, “I need to know your name, and then I want to know every fucking inch of your body.” My hand slowly dips down, feeling the curve of her breast and lingering there, watching her nipples harden and her thighs squeeze together.

She lifts her chin gradually to the side and peers up at me with her doe eyes that I know are anything but innocent, and in a throaty whisper with her lips lifting in one corner, she says, “Cassidy Matthews; your turn.”

“Tyler Chase, but tonight, you can call me yours,” I whisper in her ear.

We continue to dance to the song, and my fingertips graze all over her body, slowly exploring all of her curves without putting too much pressure on her skin.

Unexpectedly, she turns around to face me and wraps both of her arms around my neck, her breasts ever so slightly skimming my chest, and pulls the back of my neck toward her face so that we are at eye level. I can feel her hot breath as she breathes heavily onto my lips, faintly open, barely touching mine.