Frayed (Torn #2)(19)

The man in question stood up and shook their hands. “I am that Taylor. It’s nice to meet you Eliza and Mia from Rome.”

The girl , who introduced herself as Eliza , gushed and turned tomato red when she got up up close and personal to Taylor. She ordered Mia to take pictures of the two of them together.

Taylor was an Armani underwear model? Holy sexy man! I needed to Google that, like right now! Lindsey moved closer to me and whispered in my ear. “Did you think he modeled for like The Dollar Store or something?” Lindsey nudged me. She could easily see through my reaction.

I flicked my hair to the other side, not caring that Taylor was engrossed talking to his fans now. “Want to put your Greek plan in action?” I asked the grinning Lindsey.

“f*uk, yeah! It took you long enough. It’s time to rock those tittays of yours woman!” Lindsey gave me a wink. Her brown eyes sparkled wickedly with amusement.

Ever since my breasts developed to full C-cups, she’d always teased me about it. I mean, they’re pretty decent, but since I’m petite, they look somewhat huge on me, and much more pronounced when I wear a tight top, like tonight.

She held her hand out and guided us through the throng of people dancing. She stopped when we were squashed in the middle of those people, who were lost in the groove of the music. Reggae Techno blared through the speakers. We started dancing like no one was watching us. I danced and drank from my bottle, having not a care in the world.

After ten minutes of dancing, two British men came to join us. I barely glanced at Lindsey because the Brit looked like Josh Duhamel, but with a British accent. Talk about loaded ammunition! I was sold. “James,” he whispered in my ear, his hands holding my hips possessively. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or how disarming his looks were, but I was melting in his arms. James could be my cure —t . T he cure for my reaction to Taylor , , not Harry. There was no cure for the kind of hangover that Harry had produced.

“Trista,” I whispered against his cheek. I shivered deliciously when my cheek made contact to the light stubble he had on his jaw. Could I melt some more, please? I clung on to him as we danced together. I liked how he didn’t really push himself on me, or feel me up like other men would. His hands stayed put on my hips, planted firmly. I finished off my champagne to the very last drop.

“Here, let me dispose of it.” James took the bottle, tossed it away and was back in a flash, looking too irresistible and without much restraint; I pulled him close and kissed him. As my kisses deepened, it earned me a satisfied moan from him. In under a minute, James weaved us through the crowd, half kissing as we went along. We both made a sighing sound once we were against a wall, somewhat hidden, close to where our table was, but I couldn’t be bothered to check if Taylor was there or not. He was the last thing I needed to see when I was getting my freak on.

James didn’t hold back kissing me this time. I pressed my body against him, matching his fevered kisses, his hands wandering. One cupped my breast, the other holding my ass in place, pushing it against his raging hard-on. Yes! I silently screamed in my head. Make me forget. Even just for a little while. I just want to forget about it all.

Then I heard his laugh somewhere. My eyes snapped open, searching to find where it originated from, still lip-locked with James. My eyes scanned the crowd, stopping almost right across from me. Taylor was talking to a woman, whose features I couldn’t see because she was facing him, so close to him. In fact, she looked like she was about to begin kissing him. I was sure she’s just waiting for the right moment. I loudly gasped against James’s lips when he grinded his hips against mine.

Forget Taylor and his lady brunette. I commanded my mind to focus on the kiss because it was getting extremely hot and loaded. I tilted my head back when James sought my neck, kissing it. My front teeth sunk into my bottom lip when James gave my left breast a hard squeeze.

That weird feeling of being watched caught my attention. My eyes connected to Taylor’s. He looked observant, but at the same time, guarded and challenging. I broke eye contact when James parted from the crook of my neck. He placed his cheek against my own, as he tried to level his breathing. It was not a great wonder to me since I knew how tortured he was. The hardness of him poked me, sending warmth and excitement all over me.

“I apologize if I’m being too aggressive. You have completely broken down any self-control I had left.” James bluntly admitted, while his hands freely roamed, skimming my physique.

“Take me to your room,” I said looking up at him. I haven’t been with anyone since Harry. For the first time in my life, I hadn’t declined when the doctor offered birth control like I usually did. There was never going to be a next time. I was going to be extra careful from now on. A broken condom was simply not reliable, note taken.

James seemed taken aback by my blatant invitation. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured.” He genuinely sounded like he meant it, but my mind was made up. It was best to get on with it.

If I was to be a prisoner of my dark conscience, indulging in sexual urges was a small consolation. It was the only thing that was left for me to enjoy. Well, I hoped I would, at least.

“Yes, I’m sure.” I leveled my eyes at him so he could see how serious I was. James bent over and kissed me one more time before he ushered us towards the exit door. James took hold of my hand, leading me away from the club.