Page 26 of Duke's Daring Bookworm
I drank again.
Love was the one thing in this world I couldn’t afford and would likely never truly get.
An image flashed before my eyes of Lily, laughing at something ridiculous I said, her curly red hair piled haphazardly on top of her head and a stain splashed across the bottom of her shirt, like she didn’t care what she looked like.
I took another drink. The burn washed away the laughter and light.
This stranger looked at me expectantly, and even though I missed it, I could guess what she wanted. I passed the bottle to her and led her over to the VIP section. A table waited for me, just like getting in here, too easy. She poured more of the alcohol into my mouth, it dripped down my chin and stained my shirt.
I took it and set it aside before pulling her to the dance floor, and led us in a dance as indecent as it was freeing.
My heart rate thumped along with the bass, the beat flowing through me and connecting me to everyone in the room. The very air around us vibrated with the sound.
The woman in my arms ground along my body, and I played the part of the pole to her theatrics. Being a prop was fine. I played that role often enough.
Each beat and each drink washed away the stress, the obsession, the longing I had been feeling until I lost myself entirely.
Somewhere along the way, we picked up two morewomen that crawled all over me as we danced, now in the middle of the floor instead of the small section near our VIP seat.
It was exactly what I wanted, and yet, something felt off. The room spun, the lights blinded me, and the bass thumped too loud. I crossed that line between feeling good and having too much, except I couldn’t figure out how to fix it.
The redhead I picked up saved me from the pain of my surroundings.
“Want to go back to my place?” She pressed in close to me under the arm I had slung across the back of the couch.
I didn’t know when we had sat down, but the other women we were with seemed preoccupied with each other. Redhead ran her lips along my jaw while she tucked her hand into the unbuttoned part of my shirt.
“Yeah.” I reached for my phone and messaged my chauffeur. I could hardly keep up with the circles the room moved in. I certainly couldn’t drive.
Redhead gripped me tight as we stumbled to the door and outside into the sticky summer night air. Urine and bile permeated the air, replacing the earlier scent of cologne, a testament to the late hour, and my stomach turned at the stench.
A sleek black town car pulled up to our position, and Jenkins, the chauffeur, stepped out. His nephew, and protégé, Luke, exited the front seat, and I tossed him my keys so he could drive my Mustang home.
We spilled into the back seat of the town car, and I stretched my legs in the generous space. I’d almost forgotten I wasn’t alone when tonight’s distraction slid over to me and started kissing along my jaw, working open the buttons of my shirt with each kiss.
It was… okay. Certainly, not as thrilling as it should be—a distant part of my mind reminded me—but that distant part was still easy to ignore.
I reached into my pocket to dig out a condom. Might as well take our pleasure here so I could drop her at home and go find my bed.
Instead of a condom, my hands brushed along a piece of lace, and the whole reason I came out in the first place rushed back to me.
Lily.
“Stop.” The word echoed in the car before I realized I had said it.
“Wanna wait until we don’t have an audience?” She shot a look at my driver, and I could have taken the out she gave me. I could have, but didn’t.
“I think I’m just not as into it as I’d hoped,” I said apologetically.
She reared back like I’d slapped her and straightened out her dress. I couldn’t even remember mussing it up.
“Well,” she said angrily when she was decent again. “Just drop me here.”
“We can take you all the way home. Just give Jenkins your address.” I pointed vaguely to the front seat.
“No. Drop me here. I’ll order a ride.” She sounded more sober than before, hurt and disappointment lacing her voice.
I couldn’t muster enough emotion to care. She wasn’t what I wanted. She never had been.
