Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(82)

“Why? Your girl is out on the dance floor. Don’t you want to dance with her?” Posey asks, taking a seat.

“She’s having fun. I’m not going to wreck that.” I glance at Holmes and say, “Surprised to see you here.”

“He’s attempting to get a certain someone out of his head,” Posey says.

“Dude, come on,” Holmes bemoans. “You said you weren’t going to say anything about her.”

“I just mentioned it, nothing more.” Posey lifts a bottle of beer to his lips that he must have grabbed on his way in here.

“I told him to go for it,” Rivers says. “Holmes is a catch. You’re telling me she wouldn’t choose you over some other guy?”

“She won’t,” Holmes says as he sinks into his chair and lifts his beer as well. The server appears at that moment and brings the boys more bottles.

When she stands tall, she says, “There are some girls who want to come join you boys. Would you like me to let them in?”

“In a second,” Posey says.

When the server leaves, I raise my brow at him. “Getting into trouble tonight?”

“Celebrating our first victory,” he replies. “And attempting to find a girl for Holmes. Rivers, you’re on your own, bud.”

“Actually, Ollie’s good friend Ross is interested,” I say just as I look out toward the dance floor and catch a guy grinding into Ollie.

Red-hot anger flashes through my body in seconds, and I find myself standing just as Ross filters in. “Hey,” he says. “Uh, who all is here?”

I don’t even bother with introductions. I blow right by him and head toward the dance floor. He’s outgoing enough to fend for himself.

I have one thing on my mind, and it’s to get that fucker off Ollie immediately.

Not that it really matters, but Sarah’s betrayal was private, unseen—thank fuck. But if Ollie is photographed with another guy so soon into our “relationship”, it will be very, very public.

Let’s be real, Silas. This has nothing to do with paparazzi.

Okay, Ollie might not be mine, but she isn’t going to be someone else’s, that’s for damn sure.

Mine.

My fists clutch at my sides, my jaw is so tight I think I might crack a molar, and with every step I take forward, I feel myself growing angrier and angrier until I reach them and tug on the guy’s arm, pulling him away.

“Silas,” Ollie says in shock.

“Dude, what the—hey, you’re Silas Taters.”

“I am, and you’re dancing with my girl. So unless you want to know what it’s like to have your face beaten in by a professional hockey player, then I suggest you leave her the fuck alone.”

The guy holds up his hands and takes a step back. “Dude, I had no idea.”

“Beat it,” I growl.

The man gets the hint, and without another word, he takes off.

“Was that necessary?” Ollie asks, arms folded, looking just as angry as me.

“Don’t fucking test me tonight, Ollie. I’m not in the mood.”

“Excuse me, but I’m pretty sure it’s my birthday. Therefore, I can dance with whoever the hell I want.”

“It might be your birthday, but my boys are also here, which means you shouldn’t be dancing with anyone but me.”

“Is that really the reason you just scared the piss out of that poor guy? Or is it because you can’t stand the thought of another man touching me?”

My jaw works to the side as I look away. She’s got me pegged. I could give two shits about my boys being here. What I care about is her being close to another man. Touching another man. Even looking at another goddamn man.

“Answer the question, Silas.”

“Both,” I say. And when a satisfied smile crosses her face, I know I’m fucked.

How could I not be fucked?

Ollie is easily the sexiest woman in this club. Hell, the sexiest I’ve ever seen. She has me by the balls, even if I want to believe that’s not the truth.

“Then dance with me,” she says as she slides her hand up my chest and around my neck, pulling me onto the dance floor. “I want to feel you against my body.”

“Ollie,” I groan as she spins and presses her backside to my front. She starts moving to the music, and I just stand there, letting her rub against me, enjoying every goddamn second of it.

She moves my hand around her waist and presses it against her bare stomach, just like I envisioned. As she moves against me, her ass grinding into my pelvis, I find myself growing more and more frustrated with holding back rather than just taking what I want.

Maybe for a moment, just a moment, I can give in.

I can take.

So I allow myself to loosen up, and I pull her in even closer as I move my hips with her. Her hand grips the back of my neck, anchoring herself in place, and I explore her body with my hands as we dance together, in unison, like this is what we were meant to do our entire lives.

Everything else around us fades, and it feels like just me and her out here on the dance floor. There isn’t a fake contract, there aren’t complications, and there’s nothing to worry about. It’s just the two of us.

She grinds into me. I bite my bottom lip, holding her right where I want her, and together, we move, her ass making me harder with every beat of the music. I grow so hard that my body starts to float from the euphoria of it all. All intelligent thoughts dissolve, and I’m left with pure animalistic behavior.