3
Quincy
I can’t believe how packed the Clearwater Tap is on a Wednesday night. As Kyara and I step inside, the booming music drowns out my thoughts, and I’m struck by the sheer number of people filling the space. It’s not what I expected, but I’m pleasantly surprised. The dance floor is already lively, and before we even reach the bar to order drinks, I’m eager to join in.
Kyara pushes her way to the front of the bar to place our order while I linger back, scanning the crowd and tugging at the hem of the dress she lent me. It’s too tight and way too short, but it was the only remotely suitable option I found in her closet. I’m at least six inches taller than her and have a different cup size, which makes this stretchy black tube dress my only choice aside from my brewery t-shirt and work shorts.
Suddenly, I feel a hand slip behind my back, and a low voice whispers, “Hey, Quincy.” I jump slightly, turning around to find Kyara’s boyfriend, Tony, standing next to me.
“Oh, hey Tony,” I reply, trying to steady myself.
He smiles, his dark eyes scanning me, his hand still resting on the small of my back. “You look amazing.”
The way he says it sends a shiver down my spine. I care about Kyara, but there’s something about Tony that has always made me uneasy.
“Uh… thanks,” I mumble, shifting away so his hand drops off my back. “Kyara’s just up at the bar getting drinks.” I gesture toward her.
Tony grins. “Guess I should grab one, too.”
I nod, forcing a smile as he walks away. I turn my gaze back to the dance floor, scanning the faces in the crowd.
It feels strange to be surrounded by so many strangers. As the alpha’s daughter, I’m well-known in Sommerdame. I’ve never been in a place filled with shifters and felt so… anonymous. It’s exhilarating. Tonight, I can be anyone I choose.
“Anyone catch your eye?” Kyara asks as she returns, handing me a shot glass.
“Not yet,” I chuckle, gratefully accepting the shot glass from her. I bring it to my lips and down the chilled tequila in one swift motion, feeling it burn my throat as it goes down.
Kyara scrunches her nose. “Ugh, how can you stand that stuff?”
I shrug with a smile. “Because it tastes great. Aren’t you going to drink yours?” I glance at the other shot glass she’s holding.
She shakes her head and holds out her shot glass to me. “That’s all you, girl. I can’t handle tequila. Tony’s bringing me a drink.”
I laugh and take the second shot from Kyara’s hand, downing it quickly. I love tequila; it’s pretty much the only alcohol I enjoy, especially in shot form. I prefer it chilled so it goes down easily while I keep my hands free for the dance floor.
“Thanks,” I say, shifting both shot glasses to one hand and pointing at an empty high-top table with the other. “Should we grab that table before someone else does?”
Kyara nods in agreement, silently taking my elbow and guiding me toward the vacant table. We claim it just before another group can get there. A minute later, Tony joins us, arms laden with drinks. He sets them on the table—one for himself, one for Kyara, and two more shots for me.
“Ky said you like chilled tequila?” he asks, sliding the shot glasses toward me.
I nod and smile at him. “Thanks, Tony.”
Taking four shots in quick succession will definitely give me the buzz I’m looking for before I hit the dance floor. I quickly down the two shots Tony brought over, placing the empty glasses on the table in front of me.
We chat for a while, with Tony disappearing occasionally to grab more drinks. Since it’s ladies’ night, the drinks are free, but I’m still trying to keep track of my tequila shots. I’m up to seven when Kyara leans in with a mischievous grin.
“That guy at the bar hasn’t taken his eyes off you since we arrived,” Kyara says, raising her eyebrows and glancing over in his direction.
I follow her gaze, trying to spot the man amid the crowd, and then my eyes lock onto another pair. I can’t quite tell their color from this distance, but those eyes are incredibly intense, and my heart skips a beat when I realize just how handsome he is. I can’t believe I missed him earlier—he’s definitely the best-looking guy I’ve seen all night. He has dark blonde hair that’s tousled and a bit wavy, styled to look effortlessly messy yet perfect. His square jaw is covered in stubble, giving him a rugged look, and his body—wow, his body. He’s casually dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, but I can see how the sleeves of his shirt strain against his muscular arms, and the front is tight across his broad chest.
And Kyara’s right—he’s staring right at me.
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and my heart races as I turn back to Kyara. “Who is he?”
“I have no idea; I’ve never seen him before!” she replies excitedly, glancing back at him. “He must be new around here… but he’s stunning, right?!”
Normally, I’d tease her for being so infatuated, but she’s spot on—the guy is incredibly attractive, exuding sex appeal. Just looking at him makes my insides twist and leaves me feeling breathless and flustered. After everything with Clinton, my desire seemed to fade, but now it’s clear it’s still very much alive. This guy has me thinking all sorts of naughty thoughts.
“Are you going to talk to him?” Kyara nudges me playfully.
I bite my lip, pondering my next move. While I’m not opposed to making the first move, something about him feels like he’s a hunter. “How about we hit the dance floor?” I suggest with a wink.
Kyara doesn’t need to say a word; the grin spreading across her face and the determined look in her eyes tell me she’s on board. She takes my hand and tells Tony we’ll be back, leading me through the crowd toward the packed dance floor.
I start to sway to the music, casting a casual glance back toward the attractive guy, and once again, our eyes meet.
He’s still watching me.
I tear my eyes away, refusing to give him another look.Hecan come tome. I start dancing, arms above my head, hips swiveling, long hair swaying behind me like an extension of my body.
And then he does.
I feel fingertips skimming my hip, feel his presence looming behind me. Before I even turn around, I know it’s him- it’s like he’s radiating dominant energy. I allow my body to melt back into his, meeting every hard line of his chest and torso as I finally peek up at him over my shoulder.
Blue. That’s what color his eyes are. They’re a light greyish-blue, his irises darker around the outer edges. Beautiful, like him.
We don’t exchange words- we just dance. His hands cruise down my waist, gripping my hips firmly, holding me against him as we move to the music. I grind my ass against the hard bulge straining the front of his jeans, arching my back and reaching up behind me to trail my fingers along the column of his neck, the exposed skin feeling almost electric beneath my touch. The attraction between us is thick; palpable. He skims the fingertips of one hand up my belly, over my breast, to my throat. Then he takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, turning my face sideways to meet his over my shoulder, his lips capturing mine.
It feels like a current of energy slams through me, stars exploding behind my eyelids. It’s a simple kiss, but it rocks my world off its axis. My knees buckle, my pulse races- I don’t try to make sense of it, I just know I wantmore. I deepen the kiss, lips parting, tongue dipping into his mouth and twining with his own. All the while, I’m still moving my body against his, dancing as flames of desire coil deep in my belly.
I spin around without breaking the kiss, looping my arms around his neck and holding on for dear life as he continues to devour me. I’m completely lost in the sensation by the time he breaks it, dipping his head beside mine so his lips hover next to my ear.
“Wanna get out of here?” he rasps, and the deep tenor of his voice sends a fresh flood of heat to my core. For the first time since he walked over, I blink my eyes open and actually get a good look at the guy up close, and I’m not disappointed.
Yes please!
Before I can fully think it over, I’m nodding my head in the affirmative. This is what I came here for, right? Something to make me forget about Clinton. Someone to make me forget.
His lips curl into a heart-stopping smile. “Your place or mine?”
Ugh, that voice again. It’s so deep, rich, and velvety that it sends shivers down my spine.
“Yours,” I respond, my words escaping like a breathy moan. “I’m not from around here.”
“Me neither,” he murmurs, leaning closer so his lips brush against my ear. Another shiver runs down my spine. “I’m staying at the packhouse.”
I smirk. “Perfect.” If he’s at the packhouse, he must be visiting from another city. It doesn’t get much more anonymous than that, which is exactly what I want. I’m not looking for a relationship or even a fling right now; the wound Clinton left is still too raw. I can focus on healing my broken heart tomorrow, but tonight, I just want to forget about that jerk and enjoy a one-night stand with this Adonis.
He leans back, wrapping his arms around my waist and looking into my eyes. “What’s your name, beautiful? I’m…”
I quickly raise a finger to his lips, shaking my head slightly. “No names,” I say. “No strings. No attachments. Just one night.”
A glimmer of amusement sparkles in his pale gray-blue eyes as he lifts a hand to my chin, brushing his thumb across my lower lip. “Okay. Deal.”
Holy crap. Am I really about to do this?
“Shall we?” he asks, taking my hand.
Suddenly, I remember I wasn’t alone when I hit the dance floor. I step back slightly, scanning the crowd for Kyara. I feel a wave of relief when I spot her at our high-top table, nestled in Tony’s arms. We lock eyes, and I give her a subtle wave to signal that I’m leaving with this guy. In response, she beams at me and gives a thumbs-up.
The queen of subtlety, that one.
I turn back to my sexy stranger with a coy smile.
“Yeah,” I breathe, stepping close to him again. I rise up on my tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Let’s get outta here.”