He nods and says, “Well, with your attitude lately, she’s sure as shit looking better than you.”
I stand, gaping. “How dare you!”
Then, with a devilish glint to my eye, I step forward and tip my drink down the front of his suit pants. His eyes widen and he snarls a curse at me, that I’m sure isn’t part of the act.
“Have her then,” I yell, turning and walking off.
I shove through the crowd until I can get a good spot, and then I turn and peer back at them. The redhead has gone over, her hands full of napkins. Bingo. I watch for only a second as she begins to pat his crotch. Snorting, I spin quickly and find another table. I finish my drink and stare around at the crowd. An interesting bunch to say the least. All very professional.
Bored, I stand and walk over to the bar, ordering another drink. A shot this time. I throw it back and then make my way out the back of the club, which holds numerous rooms. Reign likes to keep his customers happy by providing them with, shall we say, fucking space? I admire the artwork on the walls, and the golden swirls in the maroon carpet as I slowly make my way down.
I’ve barely made it half way when a hand curls around my arm and I’m being dragged quickly and suddenly into a closet. “What the fuck?” I yell.
“It’s me,” Reign says, shoving our bodies into a dark space.
A small, very cramped dark space.
He slams the door and my body is forced up against his. God he’s hard, all over.
“What the hell are we in a storage closet for?” I whisper angrily.
“It’s a broom closet,” he points out.
“Same difference.”
“That girl,” he breathes. “Fucking psycho.”
“So we’re hiding in a closet?”
He shifts and his cock presses right into places I really didn’t want it.
“This is awkward, Reign.”
“Just shut up for a second,” he orders. “She’ll disappear soon.”
“What did she do that was so psycho?”
He’s silent for a minute, then he speaks in a low, hushed whisper. “Firstly, she just about rubbed my fuckin’ cock off trying to pat it dry.”
I smother a laugh. “That’s bad because?”
“Then she went all Wedding Crashers crazy on me.”
I snort a laugh. I love that movie. The character Gloria is a complete nut job, and I have an image of the redhead right away, which only makes me giggle.
“As in Gloria crazy?” I grin.
“Yeah, as in shoving her hand down my pants and giving me a fuckin’ hand job in the middle of my club, crazy. She even did the laugh.”
Oh no, not the laugh.
“The Gloria laugh?”
He groans. “Yeah.”
I do the laugh and he flicks my chin with his fingers. “Stop it.”
“It’s funny,” I tease. “Come on, admit it.”
“She was a fucking mental woman,” he growls.
“At least she was easy.”
“Reign?”
I stifle a laugh at the sound of the female voice coming down the hall.
“The urge to call out is huge,” I admit, with a grin.
“Don’t even fuckin’ think about it,” he warns.
“Reign?” she calls again.
I open my mouth and obviously Reign can read my mind, because his hand comes around the back of my head and he presses over it before I can say anything. I try to protest, but the sound comes out muffled.
“Reign?”
Jesus, she doesn’t give up.
We wait like that for at least ten minutes, Reign with his hand on my mouth, Gloria calling for him. Finally the halls are quiet and Reign lets me go. “Thank fuck, let’s go home. We’ll go out the back.”
He reaches out for the handle and rattles it a few times. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he barks.
“What?”
“It’s one of those automatic locking ones.”
“Are you fucking serious?” I cry.
He doesn’t answer, just rattles it again.
“Your club design sucks,” I hiss. “What is wrong with you?”
“Me?” he snaps. “I didn’t build the fuckin’ thing.”
I shove the door a few times, yelling out. Nothing. I twist and end up squashed between Reign and the door. I can feel his cock again and suddenly this closed in space is getting a little warm. It gets warmer when he moves his hips and the friction of his pants and the thickness of his cock slide against my pussy.
“Do not do that again!”
“Why?” he murmurs.
“Reign Braxton! So help me god, I’ll take you down.”
He shifts his hips again, and I can feel his cock hardening.
“Why are you hard?” I screech, pushing my hands up between us and pressing them against his chest. He doesn’t move.
“I have a nice, warm, pretty attractive body up against mine,” he says simply. “And I’m horny.”
“You’re disgusting, do not even think about getting lucky in this closet with me.”
“Don’t need to get lucky, baby,” he says, his voice almost evil. “But I can get revenge.”
“Oh don’t you even-”
He moves again, sending little bolts of excitement right to my core. I’m wet, I won’t deny it, Reign is hot and it’s been a long...long time.
“Reign,” I demand, but my voice betrays me and comes out breathy.