“You’re an asshole.”
“That’s not news. Anything else you need to know?”
“I don’t know anything.”
“Sure, you do.” He thrusts up just so, the friction maddening, rendering me senseless.
“You described most red-blooded men,” I pant. “Cold beer? Ah,” he thrusts up again and this time I feel how hard he’s become, and my blood boils. “Fast cars? Black coffee? Runny eggs and…”
“And?” He prompts.
I can’t hide my smile despite the insatiable hunger he’s drawing from me. “Me.”
“Then you know enough.” He lifts my shirt, revealing my bare breasts, I went braless tonight, and I feel him physically tense when he discovers it a second before he sucks a nipple into his mouth. Panties soaked, I clutch his head to me as he feeds, rocking my hips over his erection, picking up speed.
“Dom,” I murmur as his fingers explore and he bites my nipple before he soothes it with his tongue. When he pulls away, I’m near orgasm, but he lowers my shirt and stills my hands before again running his fingers through my hair.
“That was cruel,” I whine, my body on fire.
“We’ll have to pick this up—later.” With that, he nudges me up enough to grip my hips, easily lifting and placing me back into the seat next to him before he starts the car, backing up the way we came. Intentional or not, I feel the brush of his fingers on my hand just before we speed off in the direction of the others.
WELL-ORCHESTRATED ANARCHY.
That’s the only way to describe it when we pull in. A slew of cars are parked in a circle around a story-high, raging bonfire. The rest outline a large clearing surrounded by a forest. Kegs are hauled off trucks by some while others wait ready, tossing bags of ice around them. Music blares from the speakers of a truck as a few more cars pull up and empty. Fifty heads, at a minimum, most gathered in small groups as if there’s some social protocol amongst them.
“Please give me a straight answer, what in the hell is this?” I ask Dominic as he surveys the yard, pulling dead center into the circle where just enough space was left as if it’s his rightful place in the lineup.
“Just a gathering of friends.”
“I don’t have this many friends.”
“Lucky you,” he says with an edge as he scans the crowd. He dodges my next question by exiting the car and pulls my door open, lifting me to stand with him as I survey the party. Sean meets us at his car, his eyes going straight to my lips, satisfaction brimming in them when he sees they’ve been left untouched.
“Have fun?” He asks, pulling me into his side.
“We didn’t,” I can’t meet his eyes, “we didn’t…do—”
He shakes his head and tips my chin. “That’s not what I was asking.” He drapes an arm around my shoulder and looks over to Dominic. “They’re here. Waiting on you.”
Dominic dips his chin, his eyes darting to mine before he takes off.
I immediately look over to Sean as he walks us into the crowd. The scene playing out before us looks like one straight out of From Dusk till Dawn, an old Quentin Tarantino flick, and I half expect fire breathers and half-naked girls dancing on poles to pop up at any moment before the fangs come out. “Are you going to tell me what this is?”
“It’s a party.”
“I can see that.”
He chuckles at the arrival of my mean mug. “Then why are you asking?”
“Back home we don’t call parties a meetup.”
“This isn’t the Atlanta suburbs.”
“No shit.” I look around to see bottles and joints being passed around like free-flowing water before noticing the out-of-state plates on some of the cars. “And not everyone lives here.”
He nods. “Good eye.”
“Sean, come on, give me something.”
He gestures in the direction of an El Camino where two mammoth men sit on the tailgate scanning the party, their faces void of any animation. Clearly brothers, their features similar. “See those two?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s Matteo and Andre, The Spanish Lullaby. Behind them is their crew. They’re from Miami.”
“They drove here from Miami?”
“Yeah.”
“For a party?”
He nods.
“Why are they called The Spanish Lullaby?”
He eyes me. “Use your imagination.”
“That isn’t scary at all.”