Page 37 of Average Joe

“Why’s that, hot stuff?” Lilly asked.

“Spending my thirtieth birthday with two of the hottest ladies in Seattle,” he said to her chest, then chuckled and shot me a wink.

Lilly’s boyfriend was cover-model handsome. Dark, wavy hair, perfect amount of scruff on his chiseled face. His best attribute, though? Never once since they’d met—at church of all places—had Marco judged Lilly’s career choice or asked her to give up her job.

“I’m not into threesomes if that’s where you’re going with this flattery,” I teased. “But I know a few girls who are. I could hook you up.”

Lilly slapped my thigh. “No way. Yuck. I don't share.” She blew her man a kiss. “Besides, I’m more than enough woman for you, baby.”

“Don’t I know it.” Marco shook his head, stretching his arms across the back of the seat.

I’d never tire of watching the two of them blush around each other.

Lilly opened the built-in console set between us and pulled out three chilled tumblers and a bottle of Kaniche rum. She poured, and we toasted first to Marco, then to love, and finally, to growing wiser with age.

By the time we’d rolled up to the private entrance of Misled, we’d finished our second drink. My stomach floated, the weight of my day evaporating into the sticky night air.

We bypassed the line, Lilly gave her name, and a man dressed in black from his tie to the tips of his shoes escorted us to our table in the far corner of the second-floor lounge. We had a full view of the bar and dance floor from our position.

Marco’s friends, Singleton, Tye, and Shawn, were already seated but rose to greet us with hearty hugs. Singleton wore his wavy hair slicked back. His white dress shirt was open at the collar but tucked into a pair of gray herringbone cropped suit pants. My favorite part of his outfit, however, were the thick-soled, patent leather oxfords on his feet. The polished buckle strap was fun, but add to that the spiky studs jetting out from the heel? Singleton in a nutshell. Suave and sophisticated at first glance, carefree and kooky upon further inspection.

Tye and Shawn were both dressed to impress, too. Shawn looked edible in a gray suit that complimented his dark skin and hugged his lean, fit physique. His buzz cut, I’d decided, was the perfect style to showcase his dreamy brown eyes, thick brows, and full, cushion-soft lips. Tye, though shorter and stockier than the others, wore his blue suit with the grace of a prince. His inky black hair looked freshly cut and styled into a gelled comb-over. His emerald eyes and thick black lashes never failed to make me swoon.

Our private waiter took drink orders, then disappeared behind a black curtain.

The party had to have cost a pretty penny. Misled had the look and feel of a members-only,unleash your best jewelry from the safetype of establishment. The walls and floor were dark, and crystal chandeliers hung from high, tiered ceilings and sparkled like diamonds. Varying shades of blue lighting accented the dance floor and bar areas. The ambiance was an aphrodisiac—sexy, mysterious, and forbidden.

“I’m ready to dance,” Lilly announced, scooting out of her seat. She grabbed Marco’s hand and asked, “Boss, you coming?” then hooked her free arm through mine and pulled me along.

Every size, shape, and pronoun filled the dance floor. I shimmied through the tangling limbs and found a free spot in the center of the gyrating horde, where I lost myself to the heavy beat and the hypnotic pulse of flashing lights. I drowned my cares in the wave of movement. Men and women moved with me, against me, sharing a cathartic release, purging, or perhaps unleashing, their demons.

The DJ took a break. Sweaty and amped and feeling lighter than I had in ages, I made my way back to the table, where bottled water and shots of amber liquid waited.

I parked my butt next to Singleton and rested my head on his shoulder. “Who ordered these?”

“Compliments of the house.” He twisted the lid off an Evian and made me drink.

After another round of shots, our server brought the cake. We sang. We toasted the birthday boy. True to her nature, Lilly decorated Marco’s face with purple frosting, then cleaned his mouth with her tongue. Singleton pulled me back onto the dance floor, and again, the music filled my soul. He soon disappeared into the crowd with a raven-haired goddess. I didn’t mind. For the time being, I was a carefree, sensual female. On the dance floor, I was the woman I could’ve been had life not stolen my youth.

Large hands rested on my hips, gripping tight, and the heat of a body pressed behind me.

He moved.

I swayed.

The crowded space left little room for much else.

I chose not to look at the stranger but moved with him like our bodies were lifetime friends. The beat grew heavier, the crowd thicker, the man’s hands wandered, one pausing under my breast, the other my abdomen, keeping me steady, holding me captive.

Warm lips pressed against my neck, sending waves of euphoria over my lowered walls. When he teased his tongue across my sweaty skin, my defenses dropped completely. Shameless and so turned on, I arched for him, offering more. I closed my eyes and imagined Joe’s hands and soft lips. I danced against the man behind me, his body a mere vessel for the fantasy.

Whiskey-laden breaths amped my fire, searing my skin, the heat racing through my veins to settle, molten, in all the right places. Our private dance continued. Grinding. Touching. Panting. I dripped with need, the ache driving me mad, the memory of Joe's hands and lips, his grunts and thrusts, fueling my wanton frolics.

“Goddamn, sweet thing.” He groaned. “Let me take you somewhere private.”

“No.” I needed one man and one man only.

My ass bumped against his hard cock, and I pulled away.

---