Page 23 of Hard Rock Fling
A wide variety of styles, from classy to glamorous to full on provocative, were on display.
Women in cocktail dresses with subtle gold and silver jewelry held wine glasses by the stems, taking minuscule sips.
A few women with bright red lipstick and voluptuously wavy hair wore pin-up style dresses. Their shapely hour glass figures let them pull off the retro style with ease.
Tall, leggy blondes with plunging necklines and hems barely covering their butt cheeks held audience with handfuls of men vying for their attention.
Despite Faith's best efforts, my dress was too long to be called provocative, my hair and makeup too plain to be called glamorous. But classy? I supposed I could pull it off as well as my sister, if I made an effort.
I wandered further into the mansion, hoping to find someone I recognized. The guests became rowdier and the music louder the deeper inside I went. Empty glasses and beer cans were strewn about. Couples were making out, half naked, on sofas and against the walls. A group of people were playing a card game, most of them in states of half-undress. Cameron was there, as was August. Cameron had several bras draped around his neck, with a girl on each knee.
They were deeply involved in their game, so I continued exploring. The further I got from the entrance, the crazier the party became. Smashed glasses on the floor, trash on every surface, drunk people falling over themselves. So far I'd discovered four parlor rooms, two bathrooms with people passed out on the floor or puking into the toilet, and a handful of what I assumed were bedrooms from the groaning and moaning sounds leaking through the doors.
I still hadn't found Ian. The music was obnoxiously loud. Grimacing, I gave up and made my way back to the front door, surrounding myself with the classy, glamorous women. At least this area of the mansion didn't remind me of a frat party.
I was contemplating leaving when someone bumped into me from behind. I nearly went sprawling across the floor, still not used to the height of my borrowed high heel pumps.
So much for classy.
"Hey, watch yourself." Strong arms caught me before I hit the ground. A familiar spicy scent filled my nose.
Ian.
I wobbled on shaky ankles to right myself. I didn't want to fall and continue making a fool of myself in front of him.
"You gonna be okay with those shoes?" His tone was teasing, but there was a note of concern underneath.
"It's fine." I pretended I wasn't dying of embarrassment. "Someone just bumped into me."
I turned around in his arms. He kept them wrapped around me, gripping my waist with both hands. His hair wasn't styled for the stage. It fell in soft tufts, messy and sexy at the same time. A black band t-shirt clung tight to his chest, muscled arms on display. Silver buckles and zippers adorned his black pants. The rough metal scratched at the skin of my legs, making me acutely aware of how close our thighs were pressed together.
I tried to take a step back, but there was another party-goer directly behind me. Ian pulled me closer before I could get jabbed with an elbow. His body heat sent a flush to my cheeks.
"Damian!" a voice whined. "You said you were going to get us drinks."
I glanced behind him. Two gorgeous women, one on each side, both with fluffy blonde hair surrounding their cherub faces. Each had a pout on her lips, one sour and the other sorrowful.
"Sorry babes." He didn't look at them, keeping his gaze trained on me. "You'll have to get those drinks yourselves."
Both made sounds of disappointment. One tried to reach out to him, but the other pulled her back.
"Let's just go find his brother, instead," one said with a hushed voice. I only made out the words because I was staring at her plump, glossy lips in envy.
Ian didn't seem to hear, his full attention focused on me. Two thumbs rubbed slow circles in the hollow of my hips. My throat closed up as I met his vibrant green eyes. No sunglasses tonight. He was studying me carefully, a sly grin on his face.
"I'm glad you came. You just get here?"
"Yeah. The paparazzi was a surprise."
"Sorry. I should have warned you. The bodyguard give you any trouble?"
"No, but you were right about—" I cut myself off.
He tilted his head. "Right about what?"
"Uh—" I didn't want to tell him about the bodyguard not knowing who Ian was. "You were right, this party is a rager." He didn't notice my slip up.
"These parties aren't always this crazy." He raised his voice to be heard over the din of music and laughter. "But Cam got a little overzealous with invitations and well, you see what happens."
