Rebel (8 page)

The blonde had been coming on to him since he’d walked in. He’d given her the I’m-waiting-for-someone spiel, and she’d come around every fifteen minutes to check on his status. And, man, she had a body on her. Not Rubi’s body, but, hell, no one had Rubi’s body.

“Looks like,” he said, averting his gaze toward Rubi again.

At least she’d been off the dance floor for a little while. Watching her move, those sparkles shifting over her sleek body, the fringe flashing her perfect ass cheeks, had been pure torture.

Andrea leaned against his table. Her scent, something heavy and exotic, hung on the air. “I might be able to arrange a threesome with her.”

A spear of shock pierced his chest, and Wes’s gaze arced toward the blonde. “
Excuse
me?”

“Rubi. That’s who you’ve been watching since you got here.”

He had
not
just heard right. “A
threesome
?”

Andrea lifted one shoulder in a negligent shrug. “She doesn’t seem too interested in the guys hitting on her tonight. You’re not her type, but you never know.”

Images of Rubi, Andrea and him in a threesome flashed in his head—both women pleasuring Wes, Wes and Andrea pleasuring Rubi, Rubi and Wes pleasuring Andrea.

Fuck, yeah, a couple of those scenarios titillated Wes, but not near enough to give up exclusivity with Rubi. Threesomes just didn’t interest him when they included having to share Rubi. And the thought of Rubi in a threesome without Wes made him want to choke somebody. But better he know now than later.

He finished off his beer and cleared his throat. “Is that what she’s into?”

Andrea’s lips twisted in consideration. “Rubi’s pretty much an anything-goes girl.”

Oh, the nasty fantasies popping to mind. Positions. Toys. A little light bondage… “Have you…” He couldn’t believe he was going to ask this. “You know, been with her?”

“No, not me.”

He frowned. “Then how do you know all this?”

“Observation. Chatter. Shit gets around.”

Wes rubbed a hand over his mouth and leaned into his elbows resting on the table. “So if I’m not her type, who is?”

“Mmm, I don’t know. She’s always hooking up with guys who are trashier, harder, colder. She’s never interested in winners like you.”

“You just met me. Why would you think I’m any different?”

A slow grin lit Andrea’s face and turned her into a real person. And she was beautiful. But not at all what Wes wanted. “Handsome, it’s written all over you from the top of that great haircut to the hem of those upscale dress slacks. I’d love to see your dirtier side if you’ve got one.”

Wes slid his gaze back to Rubi. She’d finally extracted herself from the biker, her gaze now roaming the crowd.

“She’s free,” Andrea said, following his gaze. “Maybe her tastes have changed. Wanna give it a shot?”

A fist of discomfort had lodged beneath his sternum, and he couldn’t answer.

“Look,” Andrea said, “if the only way I’m going to get you tonight is to share, so be it.”

Ooooh. Kaaaay.

“Thanks,” he said, shifting on the stool to ease the unbearable ache in his cock, “but I’m gonna pass. I’ve got an early morning.”

The blonde shrugged and wandered away in search of another fuck buddy. “Let’s Get Loud” faded into “Pump It” by the Black Eyed Peas as Rubi set a leisurely pace toward the corner bar. She paused to chat with Rachel, who was on the dance floor with some wiry kid. Rachel had surprised the shit out of Wes when she’d showed interest in coming here, but Lexi was right, the main area of the club was just a regular club—drinking, dancing, socializing—though the socializing here was far friendlier and bolder than the socializing he’d seen at any other club.

But now that Rubi had gone through the night without going home with anyone, Wes was thrown right back into the dilemma he’d come with—wanting a woman who, despite wanting him as well, wouldn’t cross that friendship boundary.

Now what?

Wes stood. Time to make his move on plan B—a plan he hadn’t expected to get a shot at tonight.

She slid into an empty space at the bar and crossed her arms, smiling at the bartender—the same dude from the Crossroads earlier in the day. They chatted as he made and served drinks. A man beside Rubi said something that made her cast a glance his way and shake her head.

Wes drew close and hovered, waiting for Roméo to serve the man beside Rubi, hoping he’d grab and go. Within thirty seconds, the space opened. Wes planted his hand on the bar, then stepped in when the other man cleared the area, standing at an angle to Rubi, partially behind her, partially beside her.

Her scent immediately filled his head. He bent and drew a deep breath of the perfume—something a little different from what she usually wore. A floral base with something rich and seductive and wholly feminine layered on top. A scent that clearly screamed—
smoking hot seduction
right here.

“If that is anyone but Wes Lawson breathing my air,” she said without turning to look at him, “there’s going to be trouble.”

He took a half step closer, letting the front of his body brush the back of hers, and dipped his head to kiss her temple. “Normally, I like a fair amount of trouble, but I just came from my share, so…”

“This is the last place I ever thought you’d show up.” She turned her head but kept her gaze lowered toward the bar, a quirk to her lips. “You’re a little far from your comfort zone, Mr. Lawson. Have you ventured into the back yet?”

“You don’t really know what my comfort zone is, Ms. Russo.” And he was beginning to realize he didn’t either. Rubi had slowly opened a new world of exciting possibilities for him. “Want to show me the way to the back?”

Her lips tilted into a full smile, and the way she kept her gaze down, her long lashes hiding the beautiful green sparkle, was incredibly alluring. “Might want to rethink that. There are bad things back there. Scary things,” she said with a teasing dark tone. “Whips, chains, restraints…naked women.”

He leaned close. “I happen to be quite talented with all said equipment. My experience may lie in their
appropriate
uses, but I’m a pretty creative guy.”

“That you are.” She finally lifted her stunning eyes to his face. “But, if you’re interested in learning their illicit uses, you’ll have to find another woman to haul your fine ass into the back. That’s not my scene.”

“No?” he ran his fingertips along her waist. “Not even a little bondage so a man could explore your body unhindered?”

“Oh,” she laughed the word, “you bad boy.”

He’d like to be really, really bad, in a really, really good way—something no woman he’d ever been with had been interested in or comfortable with. He leaned his forehead against her temple. “I hear a ‘yes’ in your voice.”

“You’re hearing what you want to hear,” she said, shooting him a serious sidelong look. “You’ll need to find another woman to be bad with tonight.”

Movement caught his eye, and he lifted his head. The bartender extended his hand. “Roméo. We met—”

“At lunch,” Wes finished and shook the guy’s hand.

“What can I get you?” Roméo asked.

“Two Jäger Bombs,” Wes said.

Roméo nodded and turned toward the bottles lining the mirrored wall.

Wes lowered his gaze to Rubi’s again. Held it a moment. “Have you fucked him?”

Her brows flicked together. “Who? Roméo?” She laughed, the sound light, as if the thought were ludicrous. “No. We’re friends.”

“Right. Friends or sex. Not both.”

“That’s my motto.”

“What about threesomes?” he asked. “Is that your scene?”

“
Excuse
me?”

“That’s what I said. Someone propositioned me, said she’d hit you up for a threesome if I was interested.”

Her lips parted, shock and dismay in her expression. “Who was that?”

“A blonde named Andrea.”

Rubi shook her head. “I don’t know her, so she can’t know me.”

“So that’s not why you come here? So you can fuck outside the box?”

She laughed, the sound bubbling with both humor and shock. “You do have a special way with words. I already told you why I come here.” Her eyes narrowed in speculation. “The question is…why are
you
here? Testing your boundaries?”

“Maybe I’m testing yours.” Wes eased to the stool beside her and looked directly into her eyes. “Haven’t decided on a guy to take home yet?”

“No. But I can guarantee it won’t be you.”

He grinned at her feistiness. “I don’t remember asking.”

“Touché. Why aren’t you still with Bolton?”

“Because the man is a lush and can’t hold his liquor. I dumped him home an hour ago,
after
he started another brawl at Shooters. Busted up the place pretty good.”

“How’d you keep him out of jail?”

“I paid for damages and bribed the manager.”

“That’s my sweet country boy. Taking care of everyone. Making things right.”

“My mama would disagree. She’d tell you I was trouble from the day I was born.” He shifted on his stool, moving closer to Rubi. “And since I know you love trouble as much as I do, I have a proposition for you.”

Her brows rose in question.

“You and me. Friends with benefits.” He lifted his hand in a stop gesture. “But…benefits do not include threesomes.”

“Not into multiple partners?”

“I’ve always had a problem sharing my toys.”

She broke out into laughter.

The sight and sound filled his chest with carbonation. “I think that’s a yes.”

She shook her head and made a derogatory sound in her throat. “That proposition sounds dubious at best.”

“I think it sounds like someone might be chicken.”

Her gaze transitioned into a glare. “I hate the way you do that.”

“You can never turn down a challenge. It’s your greatest weakness. I love that about you.”

She turned toward him and rested her elbow on the bar. “Lawson, have you even had a one-night hookup—ever? In your
entire
life?”

A lick of embarrassment heated his face. Stupid, yeah, but real. “What difference does that make?”

“I think it makes a lot of difference considering you’re trying to start nothing but a series of one-night hookups with me.”

“Friends with benefits is not a series of one-night hookup. There is no series in one-night hookup, Russo. Hence the title:
One-night
hookup.”

Her mouth quirked, and she shook her head.

Roméo set their drinks down and Wes handed him a twenty. He picked up the shots and offered one to Rubi. Then lifted his high. “To…?”

“Friends,” Rubi said with a purposeful look in her eye.

“With benefits.” Wes clinked their glasses and tilted his head back, downing the mixture of Jägermeister and Red Bull.

When Rubi finished hers, Wes took her hand as the sassy, feisty beat of “Die Young” by Kesha pumped through the club. “Let’s take the idea for a test drive. Dance with me.”

On the floor, they fell into an instant rhythm. He loved dancing with Rubi. She was smooth and hip and daring. They were always so in sync, playing off each other, making it fun and sexy. And Wes couldn’t get enough of watching her body move.

When “Die Young” transitioned into Rihanna’s upbeat “Where Have You Been,” Rubi was laughing at Wes’s improvised—and overdramatized—hip-hop moves. He loved making her laugh.

He was warm and loose when he took her hands and eased their bodies closer, lifting their arms overhead. The music pulsed through his blood. The Jäger tingled in his limbs. He felt relaxed and free, and with Rubi’s body rocking to the rhythm alongside his, Wes was high on life.

He stepped back, released one of her hands, and turned her under his arm. With a small nudge to her shoulder, she twirled away from him, and when she circled back, Wes caught her with her spine to his chest. He held her there, his arms tight around her waist, her ass fitted to his cock, and swayed, rubbing against her.

She laid her head to his shoulder and met his grind. The return of pressure, that succulent ass cradling his erection, shot his blood into a rolling boil. Wes dropped his mouth to her neck. A hum of pleasure vibrated in her throat, and one arm came up to circle his head.

Wes was floating. Everything was so perfectly in sync—the music, their bodies, their desire.

He released her hands and slid his own down her arms, skimming her breasts on the way past. Holding her waist, he soaked in every sexy movement of her body before continuing down to grip her hips. With their bodies fitted, he started a deliberate, erotic grind. In Wes’s mind, he had her alone, naked, bent over a bed.

She had to be feeling the Jäger too. She didn’t resist, didn’t pull away. She was loose, her body meeting his thrusts and rolls with her own sensual flair. They’d seriously tear up the sheets together. She had to feel that, too. Wes lowered his mouth to her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, licking and sucking every inch of exposed skin. He smoothed his hands up her ribs while meeting the rock and thrust of her ass against his cock. A moan of pleasure vibrated in her throat.

His brain was gone. His common sense, dust. She was the hottest, most exciting, and sexually uninhibited woman he’d ever known. Rubi’s sexual confidence allowed his own to flow without restriction, and he knew for a fact this was something he’d been missing in past relationships.

He slid one hand down the middle of her belly, pressed the other to her face until she turned her head and met his eyes. Hers were heavy and hot. Needy. Knowing that heat was for him pushed his heart beat higher, and he lower his hand until his palm rested on her mound, then stretched his fingers to cover her. She was small and tight and hot. A knot of lust tightened between his legs.

“Oh God.” Her eyes closed and her lips parted in a look of pleasure so rich, even more blood traveled south, filling his cock until he was painfully hard.

He covered her mouth with his, slid his tongue over hers, circling slowly as he matched the movement with his hand.

“Ah…” she gasped, the sound part surprise, part ecstasy. That sound women made just before they came. “Wes…”

He pulled his hand back, and pressed his temple to hers. “Easy, baby. I’m not ready for this to end.”