Or maybe even a mumbled “whatever”.
What he didn’t expect?
“Well, sorry to break it to you, dude, but your girlfriend’s a cunt.”
Chapter Eight
Heaven. Dylan was in heaven. Hidden away in one of the shadowy alcoves of the club, he had his back against the wall, an eager girl on her knees before him, and a warm mouth surrounding his dick. Groaning, he pushed his hips forward, threading both hands through the blonde’s silky hair as he thrust deeper.
“That’s it, honey. Nice and slow.”
She moaned in approval, then teased the hard length of him with the tip of her tongue, torturing him with featherlight licks that drove him fucking crazy. He was dying to get inside her, but she wasn’t ready to leave the club yet, so they’d ended up striking a bargain—she’d help him take the edge off with a quick BJ, he’d stick around and dance with her until last call, and then they’d head back to her place for a night of fun. Win-win-win.
Another low groan slid out as she wrapped those succulent lips around his engorged head and sucked. Gentle and sweet.
“Ah, that’s good, honey.”
Suddenly that incredible suction was gone. He glanced down to see a pair of shrewd blue eyes looking up at him.
“Something wrong?” he murmured.
“What’s my name?”
A smile tugged on his lips. “You think I don’t remember your name?”
She shrugged. “You keep calling me honey. Call me old-fashioned, but I like it when the guy I’m blowing knows who’s blowing him.”
“Trust me, I know. Rachel.” His smile widened. “Last name is…Carver? Yeah, Carver. And you’re in college for fashion merchandising.”
She looked mollified. “Wow. Okay. You were actually listening.”
“I always do, honey.”
With a little laugh, she encircled his cock with her delicate fingers and gave it a sharp pump. Despite the brief hiatus, he was still harder than concrete and so very ready to come. Rachel took him in her mouth again, her head bobbing up and down as she sucked him with fervor. His own head lolled to the side, eyes closing and hips moving, balls tight and tingling.
Just as he got close, a familiar voice called out his name.
Dylan cursed under his breath. The black velvet curtain separating the alcove from the public rustled but didn’t open.
“Seriously, Dylan, I know you’re in there,” Aidan called, his voice muffled by the pounding techno beat. “I need you out here pretty bad. Normally I wouldn’t interrupt you when you’re…yeah…but O’Connor took off a while ago and Zack and Fletch just left, so I need you.”
He stifled another expletive. “What’s up?” he called back.
“Masterson’s about to beat up some guys.”
Aw shit.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Dylan gently reclaimed his cock from Rachel’s mouth and tucked it into his khaki cargo pants.
“I’m sorry,” he told the confused blonde, helping her up to her feet. “I have to go. My buddy’s in trouble.”
Disappointment flickered in her eyes. “Come find me when it’s over?”
He nodded, then bent down to brush a kiss on her cheek. “Definitely. And I’ve got your number, so if for some reason I don’t make it back, I’ll message you, okay?”
“Okay.”
He felt like a total shit as he darted out of the alcove. Aidan was waiting behind the curtain, his dark eyes lined with worry and a hint of aggravation.
“What the hell happened?” Dylan demanded.
“A bunch of morons decided to trash-talk the bartender your boy’s panting over.”
“Fucking great.”
He followed Aidan toward the back of the club, feeling slightly dizzy as the strobe lights assaulted his vision and the deafening music attempted to destroy his eardrums. For a second, he swayed on his feet, growing disoriented and a tad nauseous. Shit, he was drunker than he’d thought. And it was incredibly difficult to match Aidan’s breakneck pace when he still had an erection of monstrous proportions.
Fortunately, all signs of arousal drained from his dick the second he and Aidan burst onto the smoking patio.
Unfortunately, the scene they came upon was utter chaos.
Dylan had barely registered it when he became the recipient of an elbow to the groin that made him see stars.
“Son of a bitch,” he croaked, doubling over.
A blur of fists and elbows and legs flashed in front of his eyes, heavy male grunts echoing in the night air. He quickly recovered from the accidental nut shot and dove in Seth’s direction, though it was clear his roommate didn’t need much assistance. Even surrounded by three guys and a bouncer determined to stop the scuffle, Seth was completely holding his own, unleashing left hooks and uppercuts that landed with resounding thwacks on their intended targets.