West pulled his legs from beneath me and sat up. Then, to my surprise, he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me back. There was an awkward moment where I didn’t know what to do with my legs, but he reached down and tugged my heels off before plastering his front against my back. One of his arms lay over my breasts as the other wound completely around my midsection.
His post-orgasm erection was pressed against my lower back, and I dropped my head back against his shoulder and closed my eyes.
“I shouldn’t have come up here, should I?” I whispered.
“Sssh.” He raised his hand and pressed his thumb to my lips. It faintly tasted like me, but I didn’t care much as he softly stroked my lower lip. “How much did you really have to drink?”
“Not enough,” I said, repeating my answer from earlier. “And you know it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re a persistent fucker, but you’re not an ass. Much,” I added as an afterthought. “I need to go.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” I pushed away and looked into his eyes. “I came up here to pee, West. Not get off three times.”
“Three times, huh.” His lips twitched to the side, and he dipped one hand down to the apex of my thighs.
I slapped his hand and darted away, grabbing my clothes. “Do you actually have a bathroom up here?”
He nodded toward the door behind me. “No one will see you. Only I’m allowed up here. Usually.”
That final word was said pointedly, but not evilly, and I backed toward the door, clutching my clothes to me. I slipped through it and into a kitchenette, and another door, this one open, led to a small bathroom. I locked myself in it, and then I dropped my things on the floor as I sat on the toilet and wondered one thing.
The fuck had I just done?
I was certifiably insane.
No doubt about it.
I cleaned myself up the best I could using toilet paper and dressed. When I returned to the office area, West was nowhere to be seen, but my heels were neatly sitting by the door. Shame flushed my cheeks as I slid them on and walked downstairs to the club.
It was much louder down there, and I paused as my ears adjusted to the noise. Four guys were now sharing the stage and shamelessly dancing with the girls throwing their dollars around.
“Mia!” Vicky touched my arm. “There you are. I have your purse here. Is everything okay?”
“Thanks. Yes, why?” Oh god, did she know?
She leaned in toward me. “West came down looking a little frustrated. I wondered if you’d fought about something.”
“Oh...no. Just a slight disagreement about one idea. I’m sure it’s because I brought it up late. That’s all. Bad timing.” I smiled, but my heart wasn’t in it. “I’m headed out, okay? I’m sure I’ll see you in tomorrow. I’ll be back.”
“Day off,” she answered with a sheepish little tug of her lips. “This weekend though, surely.”
“I have to fly back Saturday for... Shit.” I hadn’t asked him yet. Oh god. It was in three days. “Never mind. I’ll figure it out. Thanks for this.” I held my purse up and spun on my heel.
All I wanted was to disappear. Get the heck out of this club and away from West Rykman, if only for a whole night.
I stalked through the crowds of people, to the front entrance area. The fresh air that rushed me had me drawing in a deep breath, and I snapped a hairband out of my purse and roughly and loosely tied my hair up in a scruffy topknot. The air was still horribly humid, and I knew I’d barely make it ten steps without my hair sticking to the back of my neck.
“Ms. O’Halloran?” The security guard caught my attention.
“Um, yes?”
He mumbled something into his radio that sounded suspiciously like, “I caught her,” and clasped my elbow. My heart thundered as he said, “Come with me,” and led me toward a waiting black car.
I felt sick.
Until he leaned in and added, “Mr. Rykman requested we had you sent home in a car, ma’am. He wanted to be assured you arrived home safely.”
“Oh. Well, tell Mr. Rykman thank you very much,” was all I managed to say before I got in the car and he closed the door behind me.
I dropped my head back and closed my eyes.
How very gentlemanly of him.
“What’s wrong with me, Allie?” I slumped forward on the kitchen table, my fingers buried deep in my hair. “I’m a total slut, aren’t I?”
My best friend hesitated. “Well, no. A slut would have been sleeping with him on Monday morning. You’re like...a baby slut.”
“Stop being nice to me. I’m an asshole. I’m so caught up in my own life that I have flights booked for Saturday to come home for the fitting and have no idea if I can even make it because I haven’t discussed it with him because he’s so fucking hot!”
“Boy, admission for one for the pity party.”
“You’ve got a VIP ticket.”
“You’re the host, you idiot. Of course I have a VIP ticket,” she said fondly. “Why don’t you just call Michelle and explain, babe? It’s not the end of the world. So you know this guy and you can’t stay away.”
“Because my life isn’t a fucking chick flick?” I turned my face to the side and pinned my phone to the table with my ear so I didn’t have to go to the trouble of holding it in place any longer.