Page 28 of Midnights
But it was more than that. She had this energy, an unshakable presence, the kind that sent a warning down my spine even as it pulled me in. She was trouble. The kind of trouble I should stay far away from.
They settled in a few tables over, but still close enough for me to hear bits of their conversation. Close enough for me to catch her name.
Her friend must’ve shouted it five times already, making sure it burned itself into my brain.
I’d spent most of the night trying not to look at her, but it was fucking impossible. She commanded attention without even trying, like the whole place was drawn to her without understanding why.
And she sure as hell didn’t seem concerned that this wasn’t the kind of bar where people come to dance.
No, she danced anyway. Like she couldn’t care less if anyone was watching.
And that? That was dangerous.
Normally, we don’t pay much attention to tourists. When they do come in, they keep to themselves, grab a drink, maybe snap a few photos before they move on. We’ve seen it a hundred times. But these two were different.
When I walked away from the bar and our eyes locked, it was like time slowed.
Freckles dusted the bridge of her nose, softening the sharp edges of her exotic features. She wasn't trying to be anything other than exactly what she was, that much was obvious. And that damn hair. Thick, unruly strands were clinging to her flushed cheeks like they had a right to touch her. It framed her face like a fucking halo, though there was nothing angelic about her. No, she looked like temptation itself—like sin in its purest form. Full lips, high cheekbones, and eyes that made a man forget why he should stay away.
She was a goddamn contradiction. Beautifully and completely undone. A mess of laughter and energy, and I’ve never seen anyone look so fucking hot and unbothered at the same time.
My body responded before my brain even had a chance to process what was happening. Heat surged through me, rushing south as my dick stirred, pressing hard against the seam of my jeans like it had a mind of its own.
Shit.
I shifted my stance, trying to get my body under control, but my mind was already useless, spinning with nothing but images of her with her hands in her hair. Stirring at the way her body moved with the music and how she looked when she laughed, completely lost in the moment.
I hadn’t evenspokento this woman, and my cock was acting like she was already coming home with us.
I needed to get a grip.
This wasn’t what I’d planned for tonight. Hell, I came here to unwind, not to lose my mind over some stunning, messy-haired American. It had been years since I’d met someone at a bar and decided to bring them home. Years. But apparently, my body had decided tonight was a great time to fuck with me.
I did everything I could to avoid looking at her while she danced. I focused on my drink, the game, and anything but the way her hips moved and the way her head tilted back when she laughed.
Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore, and neither could the pressure straining against my zipper.
In a desperate move, I downed the rest of my whiskey in one go and ordered another. I’m not the kind of guy who gets drunk at the pub, but desperate times and all. It was shaping up to be a long fucking night.
They weren’t doing the usual tourist routine, either. They weren’t drinking to fill the time before heading to their next stop. No, they were settled in, like they had no plans of leaving anytime soon.
I run a hand down my face, groaning under my breath. I need to get my shit together. She’s just a woman. One drink, one night, and then it’s back to normal.
Just as I’m about to regroup, Cam saunters up with his usual shit-eating grin, looking far too entertained by whatever the hell was about to come out of his mouth.
“If ya stare any harder, they’re gonna think ye’re a creep. And then they won't come over here.” His grin is infuriating. “I already went over there to warm them up a bit.”
Of course he did.
By now, I'd pieced together that the one Cam was practically drooling over was Rachel. Dark brown hair, tattoos on her arms, and the kind of boldness that made it clear she had no problem taking up space. Her energy mirrors Raven’s.
Honestly? They could be sisters.
But Raven…Just watching her dance is enough to tighten my grip on my glass. There’s something about the way she moves, like she owns the room. A girl like that doesn’t need to beg for attention. She simply exists, and the world bends around her.
Let your imagination run wild for half a second, and you’d know exactly how she’d move in bed.
And if you know what you’re doing…
