Chapter 2 PRETTY LEGS
RACHEAL
Raymond didn’t hesitate. He tore us apart so fast it was like the sight of me kissing someone else snapped something loose inside him.
Before I could even breathe, he swung, his fist flying straight at the hot stranger, but the guy moved like he’d seen it coming. He caught Raymond’s hand mid-air, twisted his arm, and shoved him forward hard enough to send him stumbling.
“Who the hell are you, man?” Raymond barked, red-faced and fuming. “You’ve got it twisted! She’s my girlfriend!”
I don’t know where the boldness came from, maybe anger, heartbreak, adrenaline, God knows what but a laugh escaped me. Sharp and cold.
I met his eyes without flinching. “Wrong. You mean ex-girlfriend, Ray.”
Then I turned to the stranger. Placed my hand on his chest, solid heat under my palm, and held his gaze like I wasn’t burning inside, like the whole drama wasn’t driving me crazy.
“Can you get me out of here, baby?”
A slow smile curved across his mouth, dimples cutting deep into his cheeks as he held his fingers with mine.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, almost amused. “Someone just killed the vibe.”
He pulled me away from the chaos without looking back.
My heart was a drum. My throat burned. Tears threatened, but I forced them down and followed him step after step, into whatever the hell I’d just thrown myself into.
By the time we reached outside, the cold air hit me like a slap. I pulled my hand from his, stopping to drag in a long, steadying breath before facing him.
“Um… Thank you for helping me back there.” I tried to smile. It felt forced, and shaky.
But, he didn’t answer. He just watched me silently, with that unreadable look, like he was weighing every possible word before choosing one.
“I think I’ll just go from here,” I said quickly.
I didn’t wait for a response. I turned, desperate to escape, to breathe, to break down somewhere he couldn’t see me.
But I barely took two steps before he stopped me.
I turned to face him, trying to pull my hands free, but his grip was firm, steady in a way that made my heartbeat skip.
“I’d be crazy to let you walk off like this,” he said, his voice low. “How about we grab some drinks?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “No, I don’t think so…”
“Come on,” he murmured, stepping just close enough to make the night feel warmer. “You don’t think I’m gonna hurt you, do you?”
I shook my head, ready to craft another excuse, but then his index finger pressed softly against my lips.
A spark shot straight down my spine. His touch felt like heat, like danger, like something I should absolutely walk away from… but couldn’t.
“Just one drink,” he whispered, his eyes locked on mine. “At least let me get a proper thank you… hmm?”
I didn’t know if I trusted him. If anything, he looked like the type of man in those crime thrillers, the quiet, charming one hiding a darker edge. The kind you shouldn’t follow anywhere.
But then I met his hazel-brown eyes. Steady. Calm. Unblinking.
And I nodded.
One drink. What harm could it do? After tonight, I needed something, at least, anything to make me forget the whole drama.
“Alright,” I breathed.
“Good.” He said it softly, like a promise.
“So… where are we going?” I asked as he led the way.
“I’ve got a place in mind,” he replied. “We’ll take my car. It’s over there.”
He pointed, though I barely saw where. My feet moved anyway. My instincts whispered don’t, but somehow I was already sliding into the passenger seat, pulling the seatbelt across my chest like it was the most natural decision in the world.
He drove in silence, not awkward, just… unreadable. When he finally pulled up at a building I’d never seen before, he turned to me with that same steady calmness.
“We’re here.”
He stepped out first, circling around to open the door for me. A gesture too gentlemanly for someone who kissed like sin.
Inside, the place was alive with music thundering, bodies moving, lights slicing through the dark. For once, I wanted to drown in it. To forget Raymond existed. To forget I’d ever cared.
I wasn’t going to cry for him. I’d rather drown in tequila and bass vibrations.
Before I knew it, the stranger’s hand was on my waist, guiding me to the center of the dance floor. The air was thick with heat and sweat and rhythm.
He was too damn smooth, and dangerously irresistible. His hand slid behind my waist as the crowd swallowed us whole, and just like that, we melted into the pulse of the music.
“Are you sure you can handle that?” he asked, raising his voice above the beat as I knocked back a full glass of tequila.
The burn hit instantly, and I grinned. “I love this place!” I yelled, twisting my body closer to his.
He leaned in, moving with me, his lips brushing the side of my neck in soft, slow, devastating kisses.
My breath hitched. I turned toward him, letting my hands settle on his shoulders.
“Do you care for a little adventure, hottie?” I whispered in his ears.
The night, the music, the tequila, everything blurred around us.
And the look he gave me said the adventure had already begun.
Without a second of hesitation, he hauled me into his chest, his hand sliding up the back of my neck before his mouth crashed onto mine.
The kiss was breathless, hungry, like something ripped straight from a fantasy I didn’t even know I had.
“We can get a room… if you want,” he murmured against my lips, kissing me between every word.
My brain was already a scrambled mess from the tequila and the way he touched me. I laughed shakily, breathless.
“I’d love that.”
He kissed me harder, just for a moment, before pulling back. Then he took my hand, effortlessly, like he’d done it a thousand times before, and led me down a dim hallway, away from the pounding music and the haze of all the bodies clashing in the room.
Seconds later, we were inside a room. Dark, thick with heat and something dangerously intoxicating.
He didn’t waste time. His shirt came off in one fluid motion, muscles flexing in the neon low light. His hand was on me the next instant, dragging me against him as he claimed my mouth again.
His tongue slid into mine with so much force, so much dominance, it wiped out any leftover resistance I had. His grip was sure, possessive, like he already owned me long before this night.
A moan tore from me when his other hand cupped my breast, kneading it with a hunger that sent sparks straight between my legs.
“This,” he growled softly against my lips, “is how you really forget an ex.”
Before I could answer, he swept me off my feet, literally, and the next breath I took was on the mattress with him above me, warm and solid and breathtaking.
When he shoved down his boxers, I gasped, my core clenching, already soaked just from the sight of him.
“Open those pretty legs for me, freckles,” he demanded, his voice deeper now, sure, like my body was already his territory.
And God… I didn’t argue. I slid my panties down and tossed them aside without a second thought.
He leaned in, grabbed my thighs, and dragged me closer, firmer, controlled, tilting my hips until I was completely open for him.
Then, in one smooth, brutal stroke, he thrust into me.
My breath shattered. My vision blurred. And I didn’t want him to stop, not for a single second.
My fingers dug into the sheet that instant.