Good Game (The System, #1)

“I’d sooner dip my dick in acid than Decker’s ass.”

We make it to the table and claim our spots next to Jackson again. The VIP area has gotten noticeably busier since we left. I count a few more familiar faces, including Allison’s best friend, Deer—her pink hair stands out at the edge of our booth. I slide the Don Julio to them.

“All yours.”

Lee tosses me a giant smile. “Always the gentlemen.”

Jackson pours them both a shot from the glasses piled on our table. They down them quicker than Parker and I did, Lee scrunching up her face while Deer laughs at her.

“You need to get better at that.”

Lee sticks her tongue out at her best friend.

I twist away from them. Looking over the edge, the dance floor is rife with moving bodies. I watch the different colors bleed as everyone grinds on each other. Groups of girls bounce up and down, their heels slamming into the floor as their curves sway to the music. Men on the outskirts eye them while throwing back shots and chugging beers, but bouncers watch them in turn. It’s a recipe for controlled debauchery. Sin and pleasure seeps into the air, every moving body drunk off the taste. It’s a riot to watch.

My veins warm up as my body loosens. The shots are working their way through my system, and my foot starts to tap to the bass pounding through the venue. I’m about to turn back around when two girls catch my eye. I don’t know how I pick them out from up here, but my eyes zero in on them.

They’re holding each other’s hands as they weave through the throng of bodies to the bar. The girl with the purple dress and mocha skin pushes her way through the waiting customers to the front of the bar, waving her fingers to one of the bartenders. A guy walks over, depositing two shots in front of her and then motions up to the VIP section, handing her two wristbands. I watch as she looks up, almost exactly at me, and smiles. She flicks her white braids over her shoulders and shimmies back out of the crowd to the brunette, handing her the shot. The brunette turns around to her friend, accepting the liquor with confidence. She throws her head back, and when I see her face, the club falls away.

Stevie.

Her olive skin is deliciously on display, gleaming under the neon lights. I wish I wasn’t wearing the mask so I could see her better. She tugs her friend onto the dance floor, laughing. Her hips sway to the music, skirt swishing around the tops of her thighs. They move farther into the throng of bodies, but now that I’ve seen her, there’s no way I’ll lose her.

She holds her friend’s hands, bouncing up and down to the music, screaming along to the lyrics. Happiness bleeds from her body, and I feel a smile curl on my own lips. She’s infectious. I wish I could text her, tell her to come up here. But I’m not Aleksander. I’m Blade.

I’m not stupid enough to go down there myself. I’d be mobbed in minutes. Everyone knows we’re here tonight. Not just streamers, but The System, LoveLee, FlyingFox—as much as I despise him, the people love Decker. All the big names are out, everyone is watching. If I was worried she’d be a target at the VSAs, it would be even more so tonight. The space is too small, the eyes too wary. Fuck. I really wish we’d just come here normally.

I watch as some guys make their way to the girls, dancing around them, attempting to grind. Stevie and her friend flip, dancing back-to-back as they face the men. Appeasing them, but not giving in. Smart girls. One of the guys grabs Stevie’s hand, pulling her in to dance. It looks like she laughs, but I can’t tell if it’s real or not.

Heat bubbles under my skin as I watch him twirl her around.

Her friend pulls her back though, out of his grip. I watch, transfixed, as they dance on each other, basically grinding to the music. Stevie dips down, disappearing from my sight for a second, before she bops back up. She’s a goddess to the grind, a minx to the music. My body twitches, desperate to be in her grace.

She lifts one of her legs, hooking it around her friend’s hip before dipping backward. Her bare stomach stretches and glows in the orange light. My cock stiffens at the sight. The guys around them watch with rapt attention. Fucking hell. If they thought this show would dissuade them, it’s had the opposite effect.

Her friend leans forward, whispering in her ear. She pulls the wristbands the bartender gave her out of her boobs, attaching one to Stevie’s wrist before her own. The girls smile to each other before Stevie grabs her friend’s wrist and pulls her through the bulge of bodies. I watch as they weave their way through to the bottom of the stairs.

They brandish their wristbands like Cartier bracelets before the security guard gives them a nod and pulls back the rope for them to walk up. They grasp each other’s hands again, giggling as they jog their way up the steps.

I turn back to the table now.

Waiting. Watching. Expecting.

I can’t see the door from where I currently am, and it’s pissing me off.

I lean forward a little, a sliver of the doorway entering my peripheral view.

Stevie saunters in, arm still linked in her friend’s. Her friend lifts her hand, motioning to the table on the far right, just opposite and to the side of where we sit. I watch as they stride over, nothing but pleasure dripping from their skin.

I hold contact with Stevie, pleading that she turns my way. They pass the table, and I track as her gait doesn’t break, not even for a second. She’s on a mission.

They reach their table, and her shoulders drop, relief entering her body. Her friend reaches forward to pour them another shot. Their alcohol is crap compared to ours. Still good, don’t get me wrong, but not nearly as good. She downs the shot, not a grimace in sight. There isn’t much room left at their table. Her friend squeezes in next to a guy with a bleached fade, and Stevie deposits herself onto her lap.

“Will someone take Deer to grab a drink?” Lee’s voice breaks through my fixation.

“What?”

Allison’s brows furrow at me for a second before she flicks her attention to Jackson.

“Shield, do you mind taking Deer to the bar? She’s going to get trampled otherwise.”

“Hey, why not me?” Parker leans excessively over the table.

“Because you’ll get distracted on your way.”

“Fair nuff, babe.” Parker leans back, resting against my shoulder. I can feel his knee twitching, tapping up and down. He’s a bundle of energy, waiting to explode.

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