Page 22 of The Jester and His Outlaw: Part One

After a few songs and the setting in of my buzz, he moves in closer, placing his thigh between mine. Not enough that he’s touching me anywhere I don’t approve of, but enough that the heat ramps up a bit. I sway along with him encouragingly. He folds his arm around my waist, snaring me in his grasp. Our bodies touch, melded together as we dance, getting forced even closer by more students piling onto the dance floor. The DJ is playing the music that makes people get raunchy, and we are no exception.

Brett and I have spent enough time together that we know the other well. Though I’d never imagined doing something like this with him, I can feel the sparks flying. I want to be closer to him. I’m enjoying the hell out of this, the way he knows how to move my body, where to place his hands to tease me. The way he rocks into me without being a full on creep or the way he’s testing my boundaries to make sure I’m okay with what he’s doing. It’s sweet and sexy as hell, and I want more.

Inhibitions lost and needing to find myself, I step in closer, situating myself in the right spot that when he moves in, his thigh rubs against me deliciously. Brett relaxes, tracing his hands up my bare back in a smooth and searing motion, and goosebumps break out over my skin. His touch is doing crazy things to my insides and has me all but panting for him. His lips meet the sensitive skin of my neck and suck.

“Do you like that?” he asks breathlessly, and I nod my approval as his thigh brushes my core, sending electric sparks through my belly. My dress is thick enough that he can’t see what he is doing to my nipples right now, but they are hitting his chest in all the right ways. I don’t like what he’s doing. I love it. His body is amazing against mine. “You’re gorgeous, Charlotte. You know that?” My stomach flutters with his mouth so close to my ear.

“Thank you,” I moan as his hand comes to rest on my ribcage and takes a handful of side-boob. His thumb moves back and forth over my skin, drawing me in. I’m melting on the floor in front of him and if he weren’t holding me up, I’d likely fall over from the weight of what he does to my body. Alcohol doesn’t help, but it adds to my awareness of his hands.

I want to latch on to him, do things to him I haven’t wanted to do to anyone else in quite some time. My lust for Jonas faded early in the relationship and the act became one of necessity to keep him off my back rather than something I’d enjoyed. He’s good in bed, no doubt. Someone with that reputation speaks for himself, but the spark wasn’t there.

The song ends, and the DJ announces he’s taking a quick break. Before we get any further into our exploration of each other, Brett backs up, his pupils dilated with lust. The crowd dissipates. We’re left standing in the middle of the dance floor, fighting to catch our breath. Sweat is glistening on his tan skin and his cheeks are flushed.So damn sexy.

“Let’s go get a drink,” he says. I nod my agreement, unable to form actual words with what transpired between us. Jonas was the only guy I had ever been with and he never made me light up like this. Is this what sexual chemistry is like? Because, shit, sign me up.

Brett leads me over to the bar and orders us two bottles of water. I’m breathing heavily, hot as hell, my body heated in more ways than one. Mid-stride, as I work to keep up with Brett’s long legs, I twist the cap off my bottle and stop in the middle of the room to take a swig. Judging by where he’s headed, I have a feeling he is taking this to some place a little more personal.

He dips into the mouth of a dark hallway and props his back against the wall. His hand snakes out, latches on to mine, and yanks me into the darkness with him. I let out a shrill giggle, too drunk to handle the quick motions like a mature adult. My heart rate spikes, and even though I’m inebriated, nervous butterflies tickle my belly.

I come to a stop, flush with Brett against the wall. I lean my weight into him and set my bottle of water on the floor next to our feet. Before I’m upright once more, Brett feeds his fingers through my hair, cupping my neck.

“I was hoping I’d see you here tonight. Banking on it being Foxy’s party, I figured I would, but I wasn’t positive. Parties aren’t your thing, so it was a gamble,” he admits, searching my eyes for approval. I smile, looking away sheepishly. I’m not sure how to feel that he was seeking me out, but I can’t say that I don’t like the idea that he had me on his mind.

“She would kill me if I didn’t come to the first party of the season, especially when her father is away.”

“It sucks what happened with her parents,” he frowns.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to talk about that.” A spark ignites in his jade eyes. They’re glassy and a little red from drinking still.

“What do you want to talk about?” The devious suggestion in his voice is apparent. He knows damn well I don’t want to talk at all. I’m not about to miss the opportunity to kiss someone as hot as Brett, someone who is well known in Bleudale to this day. A relationship might not be of interest to me right now, but that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun tonight.

“I don’t want to talk at all,” I say confidently. Pride swells within me, and I swear I hear Foxy cheering me on in my head.

Brett wastes no time. His head dips, his soft lips meeting mine. I part my lips, inviting him in. Taking the invite, he explores my mouth. His arms band around my waist, yet his touch is delicate, like he is still trying not to push me too far.

Screw that.

I moan into his kiss, ravishing his mouth like I’d kissed no one before. I’ve never felt like this. So vivid, so alive. I haven’t wanted anyone’s touch like I want his right now.

Brett takes my cue and spins us, slamming me against the wall to pin me with his body as he grinds against me. Running his hands along my sides, he guides my arms up and overhead. His touch is feather light and brings little zaps of energy to every part of me that meets him. It’s sensual, hot—tantalizing.

I’m a breathless, hot mess when he pulls away. I let out a whimper.

“As sexy as this is, I didn’t come here to sleep with you and leave, Charley. Let’s go outside and chill out. Catch up,” he offers with a hopeful gleam in his eye.

I purse my lips, but he’s right. As much as I want to, drunk sex probably isn’t how I should end my night. I’ll gauge the conversation.

Just because we have a friendly chat, doesn’t mean we have to jump into relationship talk. We can talk as friends. If he brings it up, I’ll tell him that’s not what I want right now. My mind is still too messed up after Jonas.

The summer airisn’t much cooler than the heat in the house. My body is clammy from the humidity, and sweat from dancing makes my hair stick to my skin.

Foxy’s backyard is huge, filled with concrete and cream-colored patio tiles that seem green in the moonlight. They snake around the in-ground pool with stone pillars that reach to the second-floor balcony that covers half of the pool to provide shade most of the day. Drunk teenagers are stumbling around—the main reason I don’t hold parties at my house when my parents aren’t home. Knowing my luck, someone drunk would fall into the pool.

Foxy knows better and has her own credit card she uses to pay for security in case anything happens. I don’t understand how she keeps it from her dad, but she promises she has it covered. Not sure how much I trust security that would allow a bunch of drunk teens on the premises, but then again, looking at them, they look more like thugs than proper guards—the Devils or something. I know there are a couple gangs around that do side work, so maybe she hired them. It would make more sense. Whatever the case, they’re keeping the sloppy people away from the pool, and they’re organized.

There are lawn chairs scattered about, filled to the brim with hot, sweaty bodies. Some are making out while others are screwing. Not like there’s a dozen free bedrooms to do that in, but who am I to judge? Sometimes you want to be out in the open, I guess. Rock out with your cock out and all that shit. Luckily, the music filters through outdoor speakers, so it covers the sounds of their grunts and moans.

Brett’s eyes roam the yard, scanning the area for a place for us to sit—far enough away that we can’t smell sex in the air.

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