Chapter Fourteen
Sawyer
The club was off the hook. The floors and bars had fog from dry ice covering them. It gave a wanton feeling with lights flashing throughout the dark, hazy club. I loved it. All the furniture looked like ice. Even the temperature was set a little cooler than most places. The pulse of the music coursed through me as we were escorted across the dance floor to a VIP section, and I let my hips sway to the beat. Of course, women clambered to get close to the band. None were granted access yet. It was chaos.
Kurt kept me close and paid no attention to any of the other women. I had no official claim on him, but it would slay me to see him with someone else. I hoped we would have things worked out before this tour ended. We were halfway to the VIP stairs when Kurt’s nemesis, Cole Davis, approached us. Kurt’s hand tightened on my waist.
Cole was drunk, slurring as he spoke. “This one charge by the hour?”
“Shut the fuck up, Cole. Say something else, and I’ll have you thrown out.”
Wobbling a bit, Cole lifted his glass in my direction. “Cheers.”
“Asshole.”
Laughing, he staggered away.
I scoffed. “When we get home, I’m cutting up that shirt I had made.” To get back at Kurt, I’d had a shirt made that said cole davis is a sex god. Gross.
“Wonderful. Let’s go upstairs.”
The area upstairs was roped off. Sykes greeted us with shots. “Drink! There’s more coming.”
Edge joined us, his drink raised. “To suspenders.”
I threw back the shot and grimaced at the burn. Harlem handed us seconds. I jumped in and said, “To no bad influences on George.”
The second burned as well. From this point forward, I would need to pace myself. It had been a while since I drank. We made our way to the couch, where Kurt sat next to me, and the music kept thrumming through me, working me up sexually. The vibrator was seriously not cutting it any more.
Kurt leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his breath. “Seriously, Louis is on my shit list.”
Beaming inside, I leaned toward him. “Why? This dress is amazing. There is a downside, though.”
“That it’s too fucking short.”
I wasn’t sure if it was the small bit of alcohol coursing through my body or the fact that I was sexually in need, but I fanned the flames. “No, it causes a panty line. So I had to go without.”
The fire burned in Kurt’s eyes. “I’m cutting that dress up.”
“Oh yeah, and I can’t wear a bra because of the back. It’s cold in here.”
Kurt worked his throat. What’s come over me? I had blazed past the gray lines we’d created over the past two weeks.
Another shot glass was placed in front of me, breaking the tension. Harlem held up his. “A toast to Sawyer. She’s got balls of brass and lots of sass.”
“Hear, hear.”
The alcohol burned going down. “Aww…you make me feel all official and the like.”
Another shot was pushed in front of me. I held it up. “Dicks before chicks.”
Four shots and I would be feeling it. No more. In fact, I needed some water.
The men all took a swig, but Edge sputtered. “Wait. What the fuck kind of toast is that? Are you trying to curse us?”
I laughed and stood. “I’ll be back. Save my seat.”
As I approached the bartender, my head swirled a little more. “Water, please. And where’s the restroom?”
“Right around the corner. You have private facilities up here.”
“Thanks.” I downed the glass, hoping it would help sort through the alcohol sooner rather than later.
The restroom was easy enough to find. When I walked out, Kurt was standing there, staring at me. Déjà vu. I swallowed. “What are you doing here?”
“I don’t know.” He prowled toward me, and I backed against the wall. We were within inches of each other, and I could smell him. Arching ever so slightly, I let my chest brush against his. Kurt grabbed my hips with both hands and pushed me against the wall. His hardened length pushed against my abdomen. “You drive me fucking insane.”
I licked my lips. Some of the fog had cleared. “Is this going to be like last time?”
The lust cleared from Kurt’s eyes, and he took a few steps back. Shit. Now he would pull back. But in all truth, if it turned out like last time, my heart wouldn’t make it. I waved my hand. “Alcohol and us always leads to not thinking clearly. At least we stopped the runaway train.”
“Yeah.”
That was it. Yeah. Irritation bubbled to the surface. I took a step to the side and walked back out to the VIP area to reclaim my seat. When I turned, Kurt was sitting beside me. Something was going on inside him—he worked his jaw and kept looking at me, about to speak but then taking a drink of water.
The bouncer who stood at the top of the stairs approached us. “Ms. Wade, there’s a Jordan Stiles here to see you. Should I let him in?”
Wait. Jordan is here. What the actual fuck? I turned to Kurt. “Did you know about this? Is Cameron here?”
His voice was flat. “No. I knew nothing about it.”
I turned back to the bouncer. What in the world do I do? “Umm…yeah…sure.”
A few seconds later, Jordan walked in, nicely dressed in slacks and an expensive button-up shirt.
“What are you doing here?” I asked. “I had no idea you were in town.”
“On a business trip and saw you were touring here. Figured I’d swing by and take you up on that dance you promised me New Year’s Eve.”
“I…uh…”
I turned to Kurt, who watched us with a blank face. Then he stood and said, “I’m going to get a drink. Good to see you again, Jordan.”
“You, too, man.”
I stared at Kurt’s retreating figure as he moseyed up to the bar. I swore I saw tension in his shoulders. What’s his deal? He’d just left me hanging outside the restroom. Inside, I was a confused mess.
Jordan took Kurt’s seat, and I shifted a little farther away. “Is Cameron here with you?”
“No. I just wanted to see you. Listen, can we talk?”
“Talk?”
“Yeah, go someplace. Have dinner. Talk.”
The music boomed louder. A knot twisted in my stomach. I glanced over to Kurt. The waitress was leaning over, showing her ample breasts. They laughed together. The sickening feeling intensified. I needed to get out of there. The room felt like it was closing in on me. If he walked away with her, I would lose it. “I’ll go for coffee. I think I saw a place around the corner.”