Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(74)

“She's not? How about you let her make up her own mind, man.”

“She's mine, Troy,” said Casey a little louder than necessary. I presume it was the alcohol making him so quick tempered. I wasn't looking forward to a repeat of last night. Or maybe I was.

“She is?” I didn't know what had gotten into Troy. He hadn't behaved like this earlier or last night. He'd only been fun and, more often than not, a source of comic relief.

“She is tonight,” Casey deadpanned.

His sudden claim to me made me feel hot and also a little nervous. But before the situation could escalate, I moved around the circular seat to him and extended my arm.

“I want to dance with you,” was all I needed to say. What I'd said was one-hundred percent true. Apparently, I was capable of honesty. Sometimes.

He didn't hesitate, and even gave me a Casey smile, as he walked me to the lower dance floor. When he found a place that suited him, he turned to face me, still holding my little hand in his big one.

“What was that about?” I asked as our bodies cinched together.

“Don't worry about it. He's being a...a Troy.” His lack of a better word made me giggle a little and could feel some of the tension roll off his body. My hands snaked up around his shoulder and he brought one of his around low on my waist. The other hung fluidly at his side.

“I liked your toast,” I told him.

He leaned and looked down at me so that we could talk face to face over the lyric-less music. He started moving us to a hypnotic beat and said, “I thought you would.”

My hand, on its own accord, rose into his hair, my heels giving me an advantage I didn't usually have. I splayed my fingers wide and clutched him.

Then I kissed him.

I couldn't hear his moan, but I felt it. Through his shirt, which was already beginning to cling from sweat, and through mine, which was doing the same, I felt his chest vibrate with a low rumble. His tongue teased at my lips and I opened my mouth without thought or concern. The one hand around my waist soon became two.

We grinded against each other for what felt like hours. Song after song we moved our bodies together like we shared a person. I thought back to the first night we danced and how it felt just like that.

Real. Hot. Genuine. Easy.

He was right. I was his. In that space and time, my body was the property of Casey Moore.





Saturday, October 11, 2008


I TOLD TROY SHE was mine, but the truth was, I belonged to Blake. She could toss me out anytime she wanted, but I couldn't do the same to her.

Her taking that call earlier did things to me. It made me livid and jealous and made me realize, again, that she wasn't mine.

It wasn't a good time to talk about it, but I needed to relieve some of this tension I was drowning in. The music was loud, so bent down closer to her and I spoke into her ear.

“What are we doing, Blake?”

I felt her smile against my cheek. “I think we're dancing.”

“You know what I mean.”

She pulled away and met my eyes with hers. They looked so big, magnified by the shading and makeup I wasn't used to seeing her wear.

“You know what we’re doing. We're having fun.” She smiled, but it slid off her face when I didn't smile back.

“What am to you?”

“Casey?” She looked worried. But I didn't care. I wanted something. I wanted her to say something to me to let me know that what I was feeling wasn't f*cking insane.

“Fucking tell me the truth. You can lie to everyone else, but right here, right now, just tell me what this is?” My mouth overloaded how I wanted that to come out. Immediately, she grew rigid in my arms. I'd made her uncomfortable, but I was uncomfortable, too. And maybe for the first time she would actually deal with it.

I knew that she'd just frozen up and left me. She was in my arms, but I'd pushed her into a corner that Blake couldn't handle.

“We f*ck, Casey. We talk on the phone and we f*ck. Is that what you want me to say?” Our bodies were pulling apart, mostly hers from mine.

“A really long one-night stand, huh?” I joked sardonically.

“Yep,” she shouted over the music, I could see her temper beginning to surface like mine. She continued, “That's what men like you want isn't it, Casey? Fuck and run?”

She was trying to rile me up.

Falsely I admitted, “Fuck and run sounds kind of nice right about now.”