My Holiday Secret: A Romantic Comedy, page 2
Then, like a dream, it was all over.
The pressure on my arms disappeared, and suddenly there was a pocket of space all around me as people cleared out of the way. I hadn't realized I closed my eyes, but when I opened them I saw the man who'd been grabbing me was sprawled out on the disgusting floor. He was completely unconscious.
I staggered back a step and tried to figure out what happened.
Someone had stepped between me and the other two douchebags. Where the tacky gym bros were puffy and inflated looking, this new guy was all taut hardness. The black T-shirt my savior wore stretched tightly across his broad, muscular back and rippled when he raised an arm to point at the door.
I suddenly realized it was the bouncer! He must've seen what was happening and stepped in.
The douchebags outnumbered him two-to-one and took their chances. The bouncer dodged a blow and popped one of them in the nose, instantly breaking it. He then snapped a hand around the neck of the one whose face wasn't gushing blood, and with one arm, forced the man to his knees.
The chaotic lights only gave me brief flashes of the fight, but watching the power and grace in the bouncer's movements made my pulse race. Weak hearts ran in my family, so I couldn't tell if I was swooning or having a heart attack. I was pretty sure it was the former, because WebMD didn't mention getting wet as a medical side effect.
Jesus. This guy was incredible.
It was eerie to watch because there was no sound from the fight. It was all drowned out by the music. Although the other dancers around us got out of the way, the rest of the club hadn't noticed yet.
When the DJ finally realized what was going on, he paused the music and turned up the lights, but by then it was all over.
My Savior stood over three broken men without breaking a sweat. His back was to me, and with the house lights up I saw just how big he was. He wore just a T-shirt, jeans and big black boots, and was easily a foot taller than me. His fists were still clenched from the fighting, which made the veins running down his rock hard arms bulge.
I had this irrational urge to trace his arms with my fingers just to see if they were truly real.
“The fuck's goin' on, Vance? Are we good?” The DJ covered the mic and asked in his regular, un-modulated voice from the raised platform fifteen or so feet away.
Vance? I'd never heard a name like that before...
Vance turned around, but ignored the DJ. He looked directly at me. With his long, brown hair and beard brushing the tops of his massive, sculpted shoulders, he looked like a heavy metal singer. His hard, dark eyes glinted in the overhead lights but began to soften the longer he looked at me. The adrenaline from the fight was starting to fade from his features.
He was terrifying and at the same time—my type be damned—he was the sexiest man I'd ever seen...
“Are you alright?” He asked. His voice was rough and deep, and the look of concern he gave me made me shiver. I swallowed and nodded, my ears were ringing from the absence of the music. “Do you want to press charges?”
I thought about it, then shook my head. Instead I stomped down onto a pair of sunglasses that had fallen off one of the douchebags; destroying them. I'd been drinking way too much to want to deal with any cops. Besides I was rescued before anything really bad happened.
Vance smirked at that. Seeing him impressed made my insides beam with pride. He gently placed a hand on my lower back and led me away from the three groaning men on the ground that were finally starting to come to.
“Vance!” The DJ repeated my savior's name impatiently.
Vance gave the DJ a thumbs up, then with the help of two other security guards that were called in from outside, they threw the three assholes out into the street.
“Let that be a lesson, kids,” the DJ addressed the crowd. The modulator on the mic gave him a robotic voice. The lights were lowered and the music was kicked back up. “Play nice, because the boogieman is alive and well. And he works for us!”
By the end of the DJ's sentence, it was just as loud as it was before the fight. The crowd parted for Vance and I, without him even needing to say a word. NO one wanted to get in the way of a man like him.
He picked up his leather jacket halfway to the front door and stopped to drape it over me. It hung heavy on my shoulders and made me feel warm, covered, and safe. It was just what I needed at that moment.
Especially when I looked outside and saw that the party bus/boat had abandoned me!
Chapter 2
Vance
“Any luck?” I asked, locking the nightclub's door behind me. The leftover haze of loud music was a low hum in my ears. Five years working this club, and my ears still hadn't fully adapted to the volume. At least the weather was nice.
It was unseasonably warm for late December, but I'd seen enough October snow to know not to complain. It made kicking everyone out at the end of the night a little easier. The shifts before Christmas and New Year’s were always the worst. It probably had something to do with people blowing off stress from their families and shopping. Whatever it was, I didn't give a damn. It was a long night, and I was just glad it was finally over.
My knuckles still ached from laying those clowns out. They were lucky that's all I did.
“Goddamn, piece of shit Uber driver! I've talked to this guy four times, and he still has no idea where the hell I am.” Abby bristled angrily, stomping her heeled feet up and down the sidewalk. She was obviously frustrated, but I couldn't help but think her temper tantrum was cute as shit.
I was too concerned with her safety earlier to really get a good look at the five foot nothing red head. Now that everything had settled down, I had time to soak her in. She was beautifully curvy with olive skin, and had these tight curls in her long hair. In the way she moved and talked, I could tell she had a strength to her.
I liked that.
I normally wouldn't give a girl like Abby a second look, but there was something fiercely attractive about Abby that I couldn't put my finger on. I couldn't see any tattoos or piercings on her, and she didn't have the bad dye job and heavy mascara of the rocker chicks that usually landed in my bed. I tended to fuck around with the girlfriends of the bands that played here. With her stylish glasses and marvel comics tights, Abby had that nerdy thing going on.
I usually scared the hell out of those girls.
“That sounds like a no. Your sister?” I asked Abby, before returning a wave to the bar's manager who was hoping into her car. Aside from exchanging names and her thanking me, Abby and I didn't have time to talk. I still had to evict the drunks so the club could close. I honestly didn't expect to see her still hanging out.
Abby laughed. “Jan probably passed out the second she got on the duck boat. I'm going to give her so much hell tomorrow—later today... whatever, for her friends bailing on me.”
Abby looked at me in my T-shirt, then started shrugging off my jacket. I stopped her. There was no way I was going to let a woman wait outside in the dead of winter, in just a halter top and skirt.
“It's cool. I have a spare hoodie in my car if you want it. It's not—” I waved my hand at her outfit, unable to keep the smirk off my face. “bedazzled or anything, but at least it doesn't smell like a roofie and coke cocktail.”
“None of that is my fault! I was at a bachelorette party!” Abby's eyes flared. It'd been almost an hour since the incident inside, and it looked like she had sobered up a bit. “I'm usually a little more...put together.”
She followed me into the parking lot behind the bar, where the employees park. My mustang was the last car in the lot. No surprise, I was always the last to leave. It could be a rough area, so I'd usually hung around to make sure everyone left safely.
Right when I opened my trunk to rifle around for the hoodie, the outside flood light loudly clicked off. Abby jumped, but I assured her it was normal. The building owner was a cheap bastard who told us exterior lights would only stay on during business hours.
“Textbooks?” Abby asked, peaking into my lit trunk. I had three semester's worth of books in there that I'd been meaning to take out. Her face screwed up in disbelief. That obviously wasn't what she'd expected I'd have in my trunk. “Whose are those?”
“Mine,” I replied, giving her a flat look. And that's why I stuck with groupies. They didn't look down at me.
“I didn't mean to insult you. I'm just...” Abby trailed off not knowing what to say.
It was fine. You don't look the way I do and not have people assume I'm just a meathead. I had thick enough skin to let all of it roll off me.
“Yeah I get it. I don't look like a guy whose finishing a master's in finance.” I tossed her the hoodie. “You should change out of that wet shirt before it freezes to you.”
“Here?” Abby looked around to see if anyone was around. As much as I wanted to watch the show I turned my back. I'd have given her more privacy, but I sure as hell wasn't leaving her out here alone.
“I'm sorry,” she said. She put my coat on my roof. I could hear her peeling off that tacky monstrosity and slipping on the thick black hoodie. “Really. I must still be a little drunk. I hate when people do that shit to me. Other people's expectations were the reason I moved away from Boston in the first place.”
“You need a lift home?” I asked. I turned around when I heard her zipping the hoodie up.
“I'll be OK.” Abby's voice was unconvincing. She might have lived in Boston, but she obviously didn't know the area.
“I can't leave you out here, and I don't feel like waiting around for some stoned, college kid who doesn't know his ass from his elbow. I’ll take you home.”
I heard Abby chuckle in resignation as I started my car. The engine roared to life, but it’d still take a few minutes for the chill to be pushed out of the cabin, so I turned the heat all the way up and closed the door. When I turned back to Abby she was shivering, so I draped my jacket around her again. “This'll help till the car warms up.”
“Thank you.” She hovered near me. Her teeth nipped at the corner of her lip and her eyes flickered. “For everything. Seriously.”
I knew that look. Abby was lonely, and frustrated, and horny. It's a look I devoured, and tonight would've been no different, but I never made moves on drunk girls, no matter how cute they were. Granted, some nights were a hell of a lot harder to restrain myself than others.
This was one of those nights.
“Thanks.” Her voice got softer. She looked up at me. Thrill was twinkling in her eyes.
Fuck me, I thought. I had one fucking rule...
“How drunk are you?” I asked, my cock beginning to ache.
“I'm fine. My last drink was two hours ago.” She smiled shyly, glancing away only to dart back.
My eyes narrowed as I met her gaze. I wanted her to see that she was playing with fire, and to know the consequences. The look made her gasp excitedly, and right then I knew she was fine. There was eagerness in her brown eyes; there was also a little fear.
She was right to be afraid.
I dipped low and kissed Abby.
It was quick and light; something to test the waters and see how far she wanted to go. She tasted like a liquor cabinet, but I didn’t mind. Our cold lips clung to each other as I pulled away. When her teeth caught my bottom lip, I smiled. I didn’t know if it was the residual adrenaline or genuine curiosity, but Abby wanted to let go and walk on the wild side. Good thing for her that she found the baddest mother fucker around.
Who was I to deprive a beautiful stranger the time of their life?
I scooped her up with one arm, like she was made of feathers, and slammed us against the side of my car. The mustang rocked from the impact. Abby exhaled hard, her breath dripped with lust. She gave herself over to the one-night-stand fantasy, knowing we’d never see each other again.
And so did I.
My beard was thick, but neatly trimmed. Finding her lips with my own was the easy part, it was letting them go once I’d got more of a taste that was damn near impossible. Dull fruit and bitter flavors were on her tongue when I pushed back in for a longer, more intimate kiss.
Finally, I tore away and dragged my mouth down her neck to feast on her subtle collarbone.
“Mmm.” I moaned, pulling her head back by her hair and smelling her neck. Her perfume unlocked my baser urges, and the texture of her silky skin lit my nerve endings on fire. “I love that scent.”
Abby half muttered something in French at me, but she was too lost in what my lips and teeth were doing to her neck to get out the full name of the fragrance. I unzipped the hoodie and chased the new opening down to her bra with my tongue.
A flash of anger welled in me when I tasted the sticky sweet of the mixed drink that was spilled on her. If those scumbags ever showed their face at the bar again, they’d be leaving in an ambulance. I buried the hell I would visit on them and focused on the heaven that was right in front of me.
Abby shiver laughed when my cold hand slid between her warm back and the hoodie to unclasp her bra.
“You are awfully good at that.” Her voice brimmed with nervous excitement. A blue glint of distant police lights played off her glasses lighting up her gorgeous face.
It struck me like a blow how pretty she was. I stood up straight and took a moment to catch my breath.
“That’s just the opening act.” I looked down at her and unleashed a wicked grin. With a quick tug at the bridge of her bra, her perky tits popped out. I slid my hand around her ribs to cup one; her nipple was a little pebble in my palm. Then I squeezed. “Wait till you see the finale.”
“Fuuuuuck,” Abby pressed her eyes shut and whispered, a wide smile halving her face. She grabbed my ass and pulled me against her.
The long, thick outline of my denim covered cock snaked down my thigh and pushed against her stomach. I peeled back her lower lip with my thumb as I took the side of her face in my hand. Her teeth were expectantly clenched, bracing for whatever I was going to do next.
Any inhibitions she had blew away like white, fluffy, dandelion seeds in the wind.
Abby squeaked adorably when I reached down beneath her skirt and grabbed her thigh. Staring into her eyes, I watched them become saucers as I dragged my hand higher. Even through the thick leggings, her pussy was scalding. She pushed her knees together, trapping my hand in tighter against her.
“You’re a kinky girl, aren’t you?” I grinned, moaning softly at the thought of how she would feel when I peeled all her layers off. With my other hand I pinched her nipple and gave her breast another squeeze. A fire raged in me so hot that, despite only wearing a T-shirt and jeans, I didn’t even feel the cold.
“Not typically.” She dragged in breath raggedly, and furiously undid my belt and top button of my pants.
“Let’s change that.” I tore open my backseat door. A wall of heat met the winter air and turned to steam. I picked Abby up off the ground, in one easy pull. The leather jacket, her purse and the hoodie, fell away.
Mindful of her head, I threw her into the backseat of my Mustang, tore off my shirt, and dove in after her. I couldn’t think straight. I’ve never wanted someone as bad as I wanted her.
The corded muscles in my arms flexed as I propped myself up. Her hands traced down my chest and abs. The hard lines in my body captured the darkness, giving my tattooed form a look like it was carved from rock.
A noise somewhere prompted her to glance around. “Is—is there anyone around?”
“If there is, they’re about to get one hell of a show.” I tore her bra away entirely, taking in her beautiful half naked form for a second, before plunging into her stomach with kisses.
Her moment of self consciousness was fleeting as she giggled. She loved the scratch of my beard against her bellybutton. She took off her glasses and tossed them into the front seat.
Good, I thought. I wanted a better look at those stunning brown orbs.
I grabbed all the fabric at her waist and jerked it all down under her ass and over her knees.
“Goddamn…” the word was ripped from me involuntarily when I saw all of her. It was as if someone went into my dreams and created my perfect woman. Abby wasn’t super thin, which I liked. She had all the right curves in all the right places. Her curly red hair spread across my black fabric seats like an erupting volcano.
I felt like I should pinch myself to make sure she was real.
Instead, I buried my face into her pussy and went to town. She braced herself against the door and passenger’s seat, as I grabbed her ass, and arched her back up. I wanted her to watch every second. I dragged my tongue down the length of her slit first, enjoying her wetness, then I peeled her lips back and started in on her clit.
Her heart was a war drum. Her fingers clawed across my seats. Her body tightened and bucked. She bent to my every whim. I had complete control over her. It was an intoxicating feeling bringing someone to the edge of their senses. I was the only thing on her mind. Just for tonight, Abby was all mine.
Abby moaned in ecstasy and disbelief as I moved her anyway I saw fit. I could tell by her expression that she’d never been fucked like this. I looked into her eyes as I kissed, bit, and dipped my tongue into her pussy.
“Do you like this?” I asked in between sucks. She tasted amazing.
“Fuckfuckfuck,” she sighed. Her hips kipped forward against my mouth. “God yes. Keep going! I’m…”
I pushed my teeth against her clit, the added pressure sent her spiraling over the edge. Abby screamed the word “Coming!”
Her body crushed together, and rippled with spasms. I clamped my hands around her hips and continued feasting on her like I hadn’t even noticed. Abby squirmed and moaned, becoming more and more sensitive. The prickles of my beard sent little shocks of erotic pain through her pussy.
“I can’t—” She twisted to one side, laboring breath in and out as quickly as she could manage. “Stop. Please.”
I did.
“Are you alright?” I asked, letting her hips collapse onto my seat. I scanned her with the discerning eye of an EMT. I hadn’t gone through the program, but I picked up several things from a friend, in case I ever had to keep someone alive at the club.
