Girl Crush(16)
“Yep. They always have the best cover bands. Typically, classic rock. Busy but low key. Come on. I know the guy at the door.”
I couldn’t imagine in this Podunk town we’d have a hard time getting in, but sure enough, he was steadily turning people away.
“Roxie.” His eyes scanned her body looking for more than a greeting. “Hey, babe. Where’ve you been?” Before she could answer, he turned his attention to me. “And who’s your friend?” Then he whistled between his teeth.
This guy was Justin in a better body, and his clothes weren’t meant for a woman. I could envision him urinating all over my house and telling me he had marked his territory. I gave him a saccharine-sweet smile and waited.
“This is Giselle.” I stuck out my hand, knowing I’d have to go to the bathroom to wash off the stank once we were inside. “Giselle, this is Luke.” He kissed my knuckles upon introduction, and I had to swallow the bile that rose in my throat.
“Good to see you, Roxie. Don’t be a stranger.” Without any further conversation, he opened the heavy wooden door for us and disappeared when it closed.
Roxie looked back at me with a remorseful gleam in her eye. “Sorry. I know. He really is nice, but he comes on a little strong.”
“No worries.”
The talking ended there. Roxie could dance, and before long, we were both covered in sweat. I’d never heard the band who’d played all night, or been to the club we’d hung out in for the last four hours, but the longer we stayed, the closer we got. Everything about the way she moved was totally seductress. Something about how her shirt clung to her perky ta-tas in her water bra and her jeans that indicated a lack of panties called to me—and every other person in the room.
I’d kept the alcohol flowing between the two of us—one: because it was hot as balls in here, but two: because it kept me from getting stiff. Liquid courage. I wasn’t much of a dancer and needed a little help. With each passing song, we began to explore. My hands on her hips, hers on my ass. She’d turn and gyrate in front of me, pressing herself into my hips, and I’d reciprocate. The guys around us ate up the show. I wasn’t sure if I was turned on by the woman who’d caressed my entire body fully clothed or the men watching us. Neither of us minded when they circled us, became part of our unit, got handsy with one or both of us. I didn’t care. It felt good to be touched—by anyone.
Justin was the closest thing I’d come to a man in weeks, and that had ended miserably. I still hadn’t bought any batteries for BOB, my first date flaked on me and returned to her girlfriend—and right now, I’d take a hand job through my jeans if she could get me off.
“I can make that happen,” she whispered into my ear from behind me.
Surely, I hadn’t said that out loud. Seconds later, with a wall of muscular men blocking the rest of the club from view, Roxie situated our bodies to face each other. And with her hands on my hips and her thigh between mine, I started to grind. Her palm found the dip in my lower back, her forehead landed on the slope between my shoulder and neck, and I easily fell into the same hold. But when I glanced over Roxie to the men behind her, I locked stares with someone I recognized. Those pale-green eyes held my attention with an intensity that almost scared me, but I couldn’t chance his missing the ecstasy that brimmed so close to the surface. Collier’s jaw clenched, and even from a few feet away, his agitation showed every time the muscles in his face went tight. I refused to put any thought into his regard for me, and instead, bit down on Roxie’s trapezius, not hard—just enough to quiet the moan escaping as I rode her leg to a jean-clad orgasm. Even when my eyelids became heavy and my movement slowed, he never moved, and I couldn’t tear my stare away from him. People danced around him, but he stood stoically as though entranced by my pleasure. When I’d finally come down from my little high on the dance floor and moved back from Roxie, I caught just the slightest hint of a smile when he tipped his head and left.
He was forgotten as quickly as he passed through the door. I was on cloud nine with my first lesbian orgasm and couldn’t wait to tell Ronnie. But it didn’t take long for my warmth to turn into discomfort. The dampness left my bikini biscuit longing for air. I needed a breather before I got a yeast infection from an orgasm paired with incredibly tight jeans. I didn’t know what protocol was under these circumstances, but somehow, I determined five minutes was an appropriate amount of time to continue dancing before excusing myself and calling it a night. The orgasm had been so long in coming it zapped what little energy I’d had remaining. Now I just wanted to be naked in my bed…alone.
*
Roxie and I said goodbye in the club. She left ahead of me while I went to make one final stop in the ladies’ room to empty my bladder before driving home. I wasn’t terribly steady on my feet but hadn’t realized it until I didn’t have her body in front of me to hold me up. Roxie had already gone out the door when I finished in the restroom. I decided to walk back toward my car before making a decision about my ability to drive, but it wasn’t looking good. Trish was going to flip shit if I called Ronnie to come pick me up at two in the morning—drunk. I didn’t even want to think about how bad work would be in seven hours. My boss would be in court, and I would be alone and hungover, trying to stay awake to appear peppy for anyone who might wander in.