Page 55 of Damascus & The Wildfire
Inside, despite the long line curling around the block, Hatchet just nodded at the bouncer, who stepped aside and let us straight in.
“Are you a secret celebrity?” I asked him, trying to stay quiet but feeling like I had to shout above the pulsing crowd.
Hatchet shot me a sidelong grin. “I’m a fucking legend, doll.”
I rolled my eyes. “Get us a drink,” I ordered as I dragged Eva to the dance floor.
Our hips swayed to the bass, and we giggled as we danced in our own world, not worrying about what others thought. Because of her cut, most people gave Eva and me a wide berth.
I laughed and caught Eva’s attention, pointing her gaze toward Hatchet, who was holding a tray of shots beside Reaper and Fuse, who were doing their best “security detail” impressions by thecocktail table. The table looked comically small before the brawny men. We wove through the crowd, the drinks calling for us.
“Did you giants steal this from a dollhouse?” I asked.
Hatchet didn’t miss a beat, arching a brow as he handed me a shot.
“Girls always like to say size doesn’t matter but then complain when it’s not big enough,” he joked.
I caught Eva’s eye. She hated crowds and had only come for me. I’d be lucky if she lasted fifteen more minutes. “Last dance?” I mouthed. She nodded, and I dragged her back toward the pulsing blur of lights and bodies.
We threw ourselves into the music. Halfway through, an overgrown frat boy tried to grind up against Eva, wrapping a hand around her waist. She twisted away, but he leaned in, oblivious and determined.
Big mistake.
Before Eva could unleash her particular brand of mayhem, Reaper materialized. He tossed Eva—who squawked, sounding both outraged and delighted—over his shoulder before he reeled back and decked the guy, sending him flat on his back.
I pressed my hand over my mouth, eyes wide in gleeful shock. As the crowd shrieked at the spectacle, Fuse threw me a mock salute, following Reaper out the door.
My shoulders shook with laughter as Hatchet stepped up beside me. He slipped his arm around my waist, warm and casual, and before I could protest, he spun me onto the dance floor. Suddenly, it felt like the entire bar belonged to us.
Dancing with Hatchet was like willingly grabbing onto a live wire. He knew every beat, matching my moves. His hands found my hips, and I melted into the thrum of the music, feeling the beat in my chest and his body heat everywhere else.
God, I loved this. The floodlights, the strangers, the sticky floor, and the promise of bad decisions. For a second, I caughtmy reflection in one of the mirrored walls—a shock of wild red hair, flushed cheeks, and eyes so bright I almost didn’t recognize myself.
Archer waved us over to the bar, where he slid us another pair of shots. Hatchet didn’t miss a beat. He threw his back in one smooth move, his other arm locked around my waist as if claiming me, his hips swaying behind me like we’d never left the dance floor. He waved down the bartender for two glasses of water, and I leaned further into him, letting my head rest briefly against the hard plane of his chest.
Hatchet handed me a glass, and I downed the cool liquid gratefully. I wiped sweat from my brow, missing the ghost of his touch burning hot at my hips.
A girl with big hair and cherry-red lips started circling Hatchet, pressing her chest against him to try to whisper in his ear. Clearly a bit tipsy, her whisper came out as a shout.
“Save a horse, ride a biker. Want to dance?”
Hatchet blinked, rolled his eyes, and turned his attention back to me, deliberately ignoring the offer.
“Come on,” the blonde said, running her hand down his back.
“Back off,” I barked around Hatchet’s shoulder.
Archer swooped in, taking the overly touchy woman’s hand and leading her out to the dance floor. I raised my glass and mouthed a thank you to him.
Every nerve ending in me sparked the moment Hatchet’s hands slid back to my waist. His thumbs traced tantalizing, deliberate circles on the bare skin exposed above my jeans, sending a shiver up my spine.
“You’re dangerously beautiful tonight,” he murmured in my ear.
My heart fluttered in my chest, but I kept my voice steady. “I thought you liked to live dangerously.”
His fingers tightened the slightest bit. The unspoken promise in his grip made me catch my breath.
“I do. Trouble is, every time I’m near you, I forget where the line is.”
