Hendrix (Caldwell Brothers #1)

I lean in. “You got something better in mind?”


She stands completely still for a moment. Then, I swear to fuck, she rubs her ass. I am liking where this is heading. “I suppose I do.”

“Care to,” I pause, “share?”

She laughs, snorting again. As the band starts up, some chick comes up, dragging the giggly little thing away. Oh, well, I’m not here to hook up with some highballing broad, anyway.

I grab another drink and walk to the edge of the dance floor to listen to the band play some nineties rock. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a glimpse of the giggler and her friend edging their way closer in my direction as they dance together.

Mask or not, I can tell they are checking me out. I’m hiding nothing at all except my face. My interest, though, I make sure that is obvious.

Of the two women, one is a curvy, sexy Latina, and the other is the giggling little snorter with the long legs and a dirty mind. Well, hell, this night might not be as bad as I thought.

When the Latina points to me and curls her finger, calling me over, I point to myself. The giggler instantly smacks her friend’s hand away then begins laughing. They don’t have to call me a second time.

I walk out as the band starts cranking “Panama” by Van Halen. I won’t be jumping around like the crew to my left or doing some seventies, John Travolta moves like the drunk fucks to the right. I’m gonna do me. I’m gonna grind.

As soon as I get to them, I put a hand on each of their hips and pull them both closer. One on each hip, I began to move. The sexy Latina places her hand on my chest, rubbing up and down my abs, before sliding the other one onto my back.

“Nice.” She smiles as the giggler laughs. “You’re nice and hard.”

“Nothing wrong with that, is there?” I ask with a wink.

“Feel how hard he is,” she instructs the giggler.

“No way,” she says with a laugh. “Consent is fucking required.”

The way she says fucking in a whispered screech makes me look at her. “What did you just say?”

She smiles that big-ass, drunken smile and repeats, “Consent is fucking required.” This time, she says it with a little more confidence.

“You’ve got consent, squeak. You wanna feel me, you go right ahead.”

“Oh, I couldn’t.” She shakes her head.

“Oh, please, girl, you sure as hell can.” Her friend takes her hand and slaps it against my lower abs.

She starts to pull her hand away as she giggles again, but I hold my hand over hers, stopping her. “Consent is fucking given.”

Her mouth drops open as her friend laughs and walks away. She looks down at my hand, “Oh. My. God.”

I look down to see what she is talking about and I smile. “You like ink?”

“Well, I’ve never seen so much of it,” she replies like she is lost in thought. She takes my hand, holding it up as she looks at it, really earnestly looking at the ink covering the top of my hand.

“Panama” is over and “Rock You like a Hurricane” by Scorpions plays next.

“We dancing, or are you gonna just stand here and look at my hands, babe?” I pull her hands up to rest on my shoulders then grab her hips and pull her a little closer as she finally moves in even closer on her own.

She smells like vanilla and spring, and after how hard winter has already fucked me, I fucking lust after spring. I look down at her closed eyes, her face relaxed. She is feeling the beat, and I am feeling her hips grind against me.

I’m growing hard, causing me to worry for a split second that she may not take kindly to that shit, but when she pushes against my erection, all of that dissipates. Yes, we are on the same page.

She continues rubbing against me with an occasional whimper or moan as we fall into a perfect rhythm together. I position my leg forward and pull her against it. When she is all but humping my leg, I lift her chin.

“As much as I enjoy hearing your sexy little noises, I think we either slow it down or return to the discussion started at the bar.”

Her eyes are glazed, nearly black, as she nods. The black and red mask she is wearing only highlights the deep green color and the smolder in her eyes.

“You think you have something better than coming on my leg on a crowded dance floor in mind?”

She nods again.

“You wanna go finish this off somewhere less … public?”

She bites her bottom lip innocently as she nods once again.

“Tell your friend you’ll be back in … a little while.”

I leave her watching me walk toward the exit just off the dance floor, and then I watch her tell her friend something. As she walks back toward me, my cock stiffens even more.

I hold my hand out as she nears and, without hesitation, she takes it.

I look around to only find a closet. “It’s not the Ritz, but it’ll work.”

As luck would have it, the door is unlocked. I open the door then close it behind us.

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