Corrupt(54)

But I was inside before he could protest further, the door closing and leaving them outside.

The warmth of the pool hall, smelling of wood and hamburgers, greeted me as soon as I walked in, and despite the warmer air, the change in temperature made my sensitive skin tingle. I felt my nipples grow harder, and my hands shook.

Maybe it was just nerves.

Scanning the area and trying to appear like I had no idea the person I was looking for was right at the bar, I tried to act casual. Several people looked up from their pool tables and small groups to see who had just entered. Some smiled and others jerked their chins in hello, before turning back to their conversations.

Corrupt by Depeche Mode played over the speakers, and I flipped my hair to the side, tipping up the flask and taking a small swig, trying not to wince at the burn coating my throat. I caught Miles’ head turned toward me from the corner of my eye.

Holding the flask in one hand and sticking my other hand into the back pocket of my jeans, I walked down the aisle between the bar and the pool tables, forcing myself to smile and my hips to sway. I tried to look flirty, even though my heart was stretching my throat and sweat cooled the back of my neck.

Turning my head, I pretended to be interested in something happening at one of the tables and not watching where I was going.

And then I crashed into his arm, spinning my head back around and feeling the vodka from Will’s flask splash my arm and seeing the blotches on Miles’ shirt.

“Oh, my God!” I gasped, making a big show of wiping him off. “I’m so sorry. I—”

“It’s okay,” he cut in, running a hand down his shirt and then over his blond hair, fixing himself. “What are you drinking there, Pretty Girl?”

He took the opportunity and grabbed my waist with one hand, stealing my flask with the other and taking a drink.

His eyebrows shot up, probably surprised to actually find alcohol and not Kool-Aid in there. The perk about being the quiet girl was not many people really got to know you, which left you the advantage of surprise if you ever decided to switch gears in situations just like this.

I pinched my eyebrows together, trying to look worried and vulnerable.

“Please don’t tell anybody,” I pleaded. “Trevor and I got in an argument, and I just needed to relax.”

Not that he’d tell anyone I was drinking. Everyone drank, but I wanted him to see me as easy prey. Miles and Astrid were aware I knew about the episode on St. Patrick’s Day, even though I couldn’t remember it, but I was hoping he would buy the fact that I was too drunk to care right now.

His lips quirked, and he handed me back the flask. “What did you fight about?”

I dropped my head back, like the alcohol was getting to me as I moaned. “He thinks I belong to him, and I disagree,” I played, bringing my eyes back to him and giving him a “f*ck me” look.

I saw the heat grow in his eyes and felt his hands hold my hips possessively.

“Holdin’ out for someone else?” he whispered, getting closer to my mouth.

I licked my lips and hung a lazy arm over his shoulder, my hand dangling behind him. “Maybe,” I taunted, forcing myself to sway in his arms.

“Can’t really blame him, Rika,” he spoke low, yanking my body into his. “I mean, look at you.”

I smiled, forcing down the bile coming up from my stomach.

Stumbling backward, I groaned, acting like I was dizzy. “The room is spinning,” I whimpered. “I think I need to splash some water on my face. Where’s the bathroom?”

He took my hand, leaning in and whispering, “Come on.”

I didn’t bother looking back to see if his girlfriend or friends had seen. I knew they had, and hopefully Astrid would only be a moment behind.

Letting him lead me, we walked through the bar and around the corner to where the bathrooms sat. He pulled me into the men’s room, and I immediately went for the sinks, turning on the water. Thankfully, the room empty.

Leaning my hand on the side of the basin, I got my other one wet and patted my chest and neck, making a show of arching my back and flipping my long hair over the side.

Come on, guys. Get in here.

“Oh, that’s better,” I moaned, continuing to slide my wet hand around the back of my neck and letting it glide down my chest.

And Miles didn’t waste any time. Coming up behind me, his hands gripped my hips as he pressed himself into my ass.

“God, I bet you’re a hot f*ck,” he breathed out, bringing up one hand the squeeze my shoulder at the neck while the other reached around to take my breast.

My breath shook and my mouth went dry.

Michael.

I kept going anyway, forcing a small laugh and pushing his hand away. “What are you doing?”

He grabbed for my tits again, growling low in my ear, “You know what you want.” And he reached down, fiddling with the button of my pants.

My pulse pounded in my ears, and I glanced at the door.

You’re not a victim, and I’m not your savior. My eyes burned, and every inch of my skin crawled with fear.

Where were they? What the f*ck?

I gritted my teeth and inhaled a deep breath. Breathing out slow and steady, I calmed down.

“You think that’s what I want?” I said, trying to sound less nervous than I was.

My phone was in the car, and my keys were in my sweatshirt. I was naked in here. No weapons, and my only hope was to make it out of the bathroom.