Feel (31 page)

Three months later.

Fast, pulsating, endorphin inducing music blares, even through the closed door, as I round the corner.  The line of people is longer than I imagined; it wraps completely around the opposite side of the building.  I hesitate.  Nerves, excitement, and a twinge of desperation seep through my body.  Shivering, I blame it on the crisp November night air instead of the fact that this is my first night out to a bar since leaving Pickens…leaving Justin.

“The line’s over there.  Go or get out of the way.”  The voice of a stunning blonde with perfectly straight hair and flashy manicured nails snaps me back to the moment. 

“Sorry,” I mumble. 

Giving a smug smirk, the look in her eyes tells me she couldn’t care less if I’m sorry or not; she just wants to get her coveted spot in line before the bar reaches its capacity and the unlucky ones are sent home after hours of fruitless waiting.

“Go ahead,” I offer, stepping out of the way, wondering if I will be mobbed by an angry crowd when I walk straight to the front of the line.  The girl gives me a haughty glance filled with distaste as she walks by me, being sure to rudely brush against my arm on the way. 

Taking a deep breath, I steady my nerves and make my way to the large bouncer whose eyes roam over me, filled with anything but distaste.  Self-consciously, I tug on my dress, well, Jess’ dress, and berate myself for letting her talk me into wearing the sapphire blue one-shouldered mini contraption.  The clingy material that I bravely thought I could pull off after Jess’ pushy encouragement now squeezes me too tightly and I pull at the hem, thankful for the sweater I threw on in a moment of self-insecurity. 

The bouncer glances at the crowd then back at me, “Are you trying to get your fine ass kicked into a bloody mess?”

His British accent is sophisticated, matching his sleek clothing, but there’s an air of danger, and something I can’t place, lurking in his dark eyes.  His black hair is cut short on the sides, but longer on top, and slicked back into a cultivated style that suits his large, muscular frame.  I feel like a kindergartener standing in front of the principal after cutting in the lunch room line, except I can smell the threat of blood in the air with this crowd instead of the threat of silly names being thrown by five-year-olds.  Shifting nervously from one foot to the other, I wish I didn’t have on these ridiculous knee high four-inch heeled boots that Jess threatened to maim me if I didn’t wear. 

The man stares at me with humor as my words tumble out, “I’m Emma, Jess’ friend.  She told me to just come straight to you, but I can go to the back of the line if I need to.  I mean, I don’t want to be unfair or -”

“You’re Emma?  Jess told me to let you in.”  He gives me a quick wink, mercifully saving me from my rambling.  “You better get inside before you hear all the ugly words that are getting ready to be thrown my way.” 

I give him an apologetic smile, and he lets out a hearty laugh.  “Jess told me you aren’t from around here.  Go on inside, sweetheart; the bar is in the back.”

“Thank you.” 

My words seem to elicit another laugh from him as he steps to the side and nods his head for me to enter before grabbing my arm as I start to pass.  “If anyone gives you a hard time just mention my name and they’ll leave you alone.  I’m Gavin, and nobody wants to fuck with me.”  Amusement lights his dark brown eyes as he winks at me again, “At least not in a fight.”

From the looks of him, and the power in his grip while he’s effortlessly holding me in place, I imagine he’s right.  “Thanks, Gavin.  I’ll remember that.”

  Gavin pushes open the heavy metal door and I step inside, immediately regretting my decision as the door slams closed.  Flashing strobe lights blind me.  The noise is deafening as my eyes finally adjust to the dim lighting mixed with colorful flashes streaking vivaciously through the large room.  It’s impossible to walk through the bar without touching someone with every step.  Parts of people’s bodies touch various parts of mine, making me feel uneasy, as I try to maneuver through the rowdy crowd.  I’m about to give up and leave when I see Jess standing at the end of a hallway yelling at someone inside a room I can’t see.  Quickly, I push through the crowd, giving up saying ‘excuse me’ after about the tenth time; it doesn’t do a bit of good anyway.  I can’t help but laugh when I’m almost to Jess and hear her severely scolding the unseen person. 

“You know where the mop is.  I suggest you grab it and clean up your mess before I kick your ass.”  Jess points inside, “And don’t forget to take out your trash!”

She smiles at a response I can’t hear and shakes her head, causing her long blonde hair to bounce as she walks, the jet black tips at the bottom of her natural blonde locks starkly standing out against her snug white short-sleeve shirt.  Jess looks great in anything; she’s model-type beautiful from the second she wakes up until the time she goes to bed.  It’s annoyingly unfair, but I love her.  She may look like a princess, but she’s as fierce as a cornered tiger and just as lethal if she doesn’t like you; luckily, she loves me, too.

“Insatiable bastard,” Jess’ lips curve into a knowing smile with her words, and I slip my arm through hers, thankful to be close to someone I know. 

“What’s going on?” I ask, confused and curious by my recent best friend’s reaction to whatever just happened. 

“Oh, just Breck slummin’ in the supply room.  He knows better than to bang his whores in my place.” 

Her strong words are in discordance with her soft voice, and I glance over my shoulder to see a pretty brunette walk out of the room, smoothing her dress before flashing her sated smile and leaning in close to a tall, broad shouldered man who steps out next to her. She whispers something in his ear, and he takes a casual step backwards.  My eyes seem to disconnect from my mind as they slowly drink in long legs covered in a dark material that I don’t recognize but can tell is expensive and looks amazing on the fine masculine specimen sporting them. 
Where the hell did that thought come from?
 

I vaguely feel my feet moving forward as I continue to glance over my shoulder at a lean waist in a thin gray dress shirt that shows just enough to prove he has toned muscles beneath.  My breath hitches when the man turns around.  Dusty brown hair is tussled into sexy, disheveled perfection.  Strong, masculine features frame his tan face; a firm jaw is speckled with dark stubble that makes him look recklessly handsome instead of in need of a shave.  Something about his presence is imposing, demanding my attention.  His eyes scan the room before he slowly blinks, then lands his gaze on mine.  The need to turn away hits me, but I can’t.  I’m frozen.  Paralyzed.  My pulse quickens and I can’t breathe when he walks towards us.  Jess pulls on my arm when my body stops.  I want to follow, but my entire body is rioting against my brain at the moment. 
Move!

Finally, my treacherous dexterity finds reason and I turn away, but not before witnessing the most captivating steel blue eyes bore straight through me.  This strange tingling sensation takes over, sending an electric current sizzling through my body, causing me to feel shockingly energized.

“C’mon, Emma, there’s going to be another fight if I don’t get to the bar and provide these heathens with their liquid tolerance, and I don’t feel like patching Jason up after another brawl tonight.”

Shaking my head to clear the buzzing that is turning my brain into mush, I blindly follow Jess until we reach the bar.  The seat is welcoming as I sink into it, trying not to think of what just happened. 

Jess puts a glass of water in front of me before giving me a quizzical look, “You alright?”

Distractedly, I take a sip.  “Yeah,” I respond, not exactly sure I’m telling her the truth.  Before I have the chance to question my integrity any further, I feel him behind me.  I’m fully aware that I don’t know how I know it’s him; I just do, then he touches my arm. 

“That’s Jess’ dress, but you are definitely not her.”

His voice is better than I imagined, powerful, sure, smooth, and so flippin’ sexy, as it does terrifyingly enticing things to me.  Despite my best intention not to, I blush.

Plopping down next to me, he orders a beer before glancing my way, giving the dress another look, “It doesn’t suit you.”

I spin towards him.  Bad choice.  His mouth is flush to my face, and I’m struck motionless again as I watch how the smooth skin of his neck moves when he swallows.  His lips curve when I try to rip my gaze away from them.  His scent, that’s what does me in; it’s an intoxicating mixture of a clean summer breeze, a hauntingly elusive spice, and pure masculinity.  The thought of burying my nose between the soft spot of his neck and his chiseled chest and inhaling until I can place that decadent aroma alarms me.  I’ve never reacted to any man like this; I’m not liking it at all!  Well, maybe just a little.  His earlier words reclaim my sanity, and I scowl, “You were not in my thoughts when I put it on, so your comment, which was rather rude, by the way, means nothing to me.”

The way he tilts his head back slightly when he laughs affects me more than I want.  “That’s only because you hadn’t met me yet.” His voice is cocky, pissing me off. 

  Rolling my eyes, I give him my best disinterested glance.  The eyes staring back at me are the most amazing I’ve ever seen, so bright, but distant, guarded. Their exact color alludes me.  They search me, so I search back.  My gaze penetrates his, matching his intensity, and I see a flash of admiration before his gaze turns harsh.  Inhaling sharply at the sudden anger in them, my gaze falls. 

“I have no desire to meet you,” I snap, fairly sure I’m not lying.  Cringing at how my voice is a little shaky from the strength behind what I saw, I’m pissed off even more.

No response is given, providing me with a shot of relief as I take a long, slow breath. Assuming he took the hint and left, I hope that he did and didn’t at the same time, but I refuse to look.

Jess steps in front of me with a worried expression on her face as she glances at me, then next to me, and I get a sinking feeling, realizing he’s still there.

“I think I hurt your friend’s feelings, Jess,” he scoffs.

A heavy, strong warmth seeps into my lower back.  His touch mesmerizes and infuriates me.  Spinning in my chair, I break the connection.  The anger is gone when I force myself to look at him again, and he smiles, his eyes crinkling at the sides with the genuine action. 

“I wasn’t suggesting that you don’t look good in her dress.  You do.  Amazing, actually.”  The steel blue darkens, turning carnal.

I feel breathless, slightly lightheaded, imagining what he’s thinking. 

“You just look lost.  Fake.  Like you’re pretending.”

Apparently his thoughts are nowhere close to mine.  I want to yell at him, but his words weren’t accusatory, just matter of fact.  He’s right, and that causes me to really want him to go away now. 

“Leave her alone, Breck.”  Jess shoots him a scathing glare, making me want to hug her. 

Ignoring Jess, he flashes a titillating smile, not attempting to hide his intentions.  “What’s your name?”

I’m seriously tempted to give him the finger, but my southern upbringing wins.  “Emma.”

  His anger returns, appearing stronger than before, spilling into his words after he takes a long swig of his beer while he glares at me, “The preacher’s daughter?”

Stiffly nodding, I’m at a loss of saying or doing anything else.

  Just as quickly as it came, the anger vanishes and he leans close to me.  His breath is soft, mesmerizing, as it warms my lips, “You don’t like me?”

I shake my head in confirmation.

“That’s a wise decision.” 

His lips are so close to mine, if I hiccupped, our mouths would collide.  I swallow hard when his fingers find a strand of my hair and he slowly wraps the chestnut lock around them.  “But, you want me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Leave her the hell alone, Breck!”  Jess yells, the warning evident in her voice.

It’s obvious something’s happening that I don’t understand, more going on than just what’s being said, but I don’t seem to have privileged knowledge. 

Sliding my hair through his fingers, his eyes never leave mine.  I see the soft rise and fall of his chest as his breath continues to warm my lips, “I will be inside of you, Emma, doing all sorts of forbidden things that you have never even heard of, and you will be the one begging me to….you just don’t know it yet.”

The shock of his words slam into me.  I open my mouth to shoot back an angry rebuttal, to quench his arrogant attitude, but no words come out. Slapping his hand away, my hair falls back against my shoulder. 

A soft chuckle tumbles from his mouth as he leans closer, brushing his lips against my ear, sending shivers spiraling through me.  His touch burns as his fingers skim down my arm, then, the warmth is gone, leaving me cold, rattled.

My cheeks flame, and I stare, trembling, with my mouth gaped open, before I have sense enough to snap it shut. As I try to come up with something to say to get him to leave, he slowly steps backwards, giving me one last look of undiluted anger before walking away.

My breathing is erratic as I again try to process what just happened, but, within seconds, his attention is focused on a beautiful redhead who stops him, giggling when she leans in too close and her breasts rub against his arm. Disgust joins my conflicting emotions.  His arrogance and sheer inappropriateness make me furious, but it’s the small stab of jealousy that makes me want to smack myself.