Page 52 of Second Chance Ex
“Wait,” Heath interjects, looking around at everyone, clearly bewildered by what’s just transpired. “So… is anyoneactuallydating?” He points at Jessie. “And, more importantly,you’resingle?”
Jessie’s face flames, her gaze flitting across the table to Adam.
“Jessie and Adam are sleeping together!” I announce because if I’m going down, I’m taking the two of them with me.
“What?” Joey’s booms. He turns to Jessie, gawping at her.
Jessie offers him an apologetic glance all while Adam sits back, arms folded, a shit-eating grin on his smug face. And it’s really starting to make more and more sense why Joey punched him in the face today.
“Alright, let’s just everyone, calm down.” Ryan stands, taking control of the situation. He waves a waiter over, pulling his wallet from the back pocket of his chinos and hands his credit card to the man.
“Can we get out of here before someone flips a table,” he says, wrangling the group.
“We’re still going to the club, aren’t we?” Milly and Heather chime.
I roll my eyes, again. Because, if I’m honest, all I want to do is go home. And not home to the lake mansion; home back to Rosewood and far away from Joey because now that everything's out in the open, I don’t know if I can trust myself being around him right now, especially not with the way he’s currently looking at me; he either hates me, or he wants to see me naked. Maybe even both.
I’m drunk. And I know I shouldn’t be this drunk because this level of intoxication can only lead to trouble. But what the fuck else was I supposed to do after finding out that Prue isn’t really in a relationship withDick Bag. She hasn’t been tainted by the bane of my existence; it’s a cause for celebration.
For the record, I still don’t regret punching his stupid face, but I guess I have some sort of newfound respect for the guy since he really did risk his life pretending to be with my girl. Although, I guess he did fuck my fake-girlfriend behind my back, so maybe another punch is imminent. But Jessie seems to really like the guy for some reason, so I guess I can let it slide. For tonight, at least.
We’re seated upstairs in the private loft area of some random club. Bottle service, thrumming music, flashing lights; it’s the living definition of hell, but Madison wanted a night of dancing, so it was theleast I could do to organize something.I’m kicking myself now, however, because I’ve been forced to sit here the whole time and watch Prue shake her sexy ass, grinding up against Maddy and Heather, unknowingly teasing the ever-loving fuck out of me. My teeth hurt I’ve been clenching my jaw so damn hard.
Not that I don’t love watching Prue move suggestively to the music, and I love that she’s smiling and laughing and seemingly having the time of her life because when you’ve seen your person at their lowest, broken in every way, the sight of their smile is everything. But man, having to witness this is seriously doing a number on my balls, that’s for sure, especially after the state she left me in in the pantry this morning.
“Hey man.” Ryan plonks himself down beside me on the red velvet sofa.
I clink my glass with his.
“You okay after what happened at dinner?”
I nod, my eyes still intently set on Prue, watching her teasingly drag her hands up over the curve of his hips, her waist, the swell of her tits. She’s doing it on purpose. She fucking has to be.
“Maybe you should talk to her,” Ryan suggests. “There’s obviously feelings there if she was willing to employ the likes of Adam Hopper as her fake boyfriend for the sole purpose of this weekend.”
I offer a noncommittal shrug. I know he’s right; there’s definitely something up. But I need to wait for her talk to me. I can’t push this. Yes, we’re both scarred after our past, but Prue even more so. And I fucking hate that. I hate not being able to march right over there and claim her with one kiss, and have everything go back to the way it was before it all fell apart. But thething is, nothing can go back to that time because everything is different now; and I know, if I want Prue, then I need to wait for her to make that move. Yeah, I could be waiting the rest of my life, but that’s just it; for Prue Watson I’d wait forever, even if it means dying sad and alone.
I sit up a little straighter when I notice Prue say something to the girls, pointing to the stairs.
Man, she looks so fucking good tonight. She always looks good. But tonight, in that tight black dress that hugs her mouthwatering hips and ass, the neckline that dips down just enough to hint at her superb tits; she’s been driving me crazy all fucking night and she doesn’t even know. Or, maybe she does. If I know Prue like I think I do, I was probably the main factor when deciding on her outfit tonight;what could I possibly wear that would make Joey wish he were dead?Well, mission complete, babe. Looking at her dressed like that has been an unimaginable pain I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemies, not even Adam Hopper; I’m going to have to jerk off as soon as I get a moment alone.
Like a goddamn hawk, I track Prue’s every step, almost hypnotized by the sensual sway of her hips as she saunters towards the stairs that lead down to the club. Suddenly, she’s gone.
I bristle immediately at the thought of her going down there on her own, and I glance sideways to find Ryan watching me with the hint of an annoying grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. He tips his head in the direction of the stairs encouragingly, and I don’t need to be told twice. Jumping up, I follow in the wake of my girl.
Downstairs, the club is wall-to-wall revelers, anddespite the dim light, I make sure to keep my chin ducked low so as not to be seen by any overzealous football fanatics.
I spot the top of Prue’s head turning down the cement corridor in the direction of the bathrooms, and I hang back a little, watching, waiting. I’m like a fucking lion, stalking its prey; a man possessed, but this is what she does to me. I’m unhinged when it comes to Prue Watson; always have been.
When I spot her returning a few minutes later, I snap into action. With a few long strides, I cross in front of her, swooping down to grab her hand on my way. She flinches at first, tries to pull away, but then I assume she notices that it’s me and not some aggressive rando, and her hand grips mine right back.
I hold onto her, keeping her close behind me as I lead her to an out-of-the-way nook beneath the stairs that lead back up to the loft; a nook partially hidden by the DJ’s booth. And before she can question me, I spin her around with such force, she almost topples over on those sky-high stilettos before slamming against my chest.Keeping her close to me, I look down into her wide eyes that stare up at me, clearly wondering what the fuck I’m doing.Frankly, sweetheart, I have no fucking idea. Walking her backwards and pinning her against the wall, my body flanks hers, and I almost groan at the feel of her heaving tits pressing into my chest.
Caging her in, I place my hands either side of her head, ducking in close so I can breathe her in, dragging the bridge of my nose along her jaw, down the curve of her neck, my head dizzy from her intoxicating scent.
“W-what are you doing, Joey?” Prue stammers, hervoice almost lost to the deep thrum of bass reverberating through the club.
I don’t answer her with words. Instead, with a cocky grin, I drag a hand down, following the dip of her waist, the flair of her hip, her thigh, before gently lifting the hem of her dress so I can slip my leg between hers, my firm thigh intentionally rubbing against her pussy. I grind my hips into her so she can feel exactly how hard I am, my dick aching against my zipper.
