Page 84 of Their Wicked Ways

One thing about them was they took consent seriously, which was the only reason I wasn’t smarting from them not reciprocating my lame attempts at flirting after we’d smoked that joint the other night.

Moving to the other side of the dance floor, I scanned the crowd again, peering through the flashing lights and darkness for any sign of them.

Nothing.

Disappointment simmered in my gut as a sense of dread descended on me.

What if they’d already found someone?

What if they were in the back room with him right now?

Defiance and anger replaced my disappointment.

So what if they had? It wasn’t like they were the only guys in the world. The club was full of hot, queer men.

They could fuck whoever they wanted, and so could I.

I scanned the room again. A few guys made eye contact with me, their gazes showing they liked what they saw, but they didn’t do anything for me, so I kept looking.

I wasn’t sure exactlywhatI was looking for if it wasn’t Ez and Wes, and I had no idea how to go about actually getting them if I did find it.

All my experience with flirting or hooking up had me in the passive role. Chanel had introduced me to Mia and done all the legwork, so all I had to do was accept a party invite, and suddenly I was on a date.

The same with Ez and Wes. They’d done all the work, been the aggressors and the seducers both times we’d hooked up. All I’d had to do was consent and go along for the ride.

But how hard could it be?

I was young, decently attractive, and confident. Or at least I was good at faking confidence. According to everyone I’d talked to about dating culture, that was half the battle.

And it wasn’t like I was looking for a boyfriend. I didn’t have to like the guy, just be able to get my dick up for him and not be disgusted by the idea of touching his.

“Hey.” A guy around my age with platinum blond hair and black nail polish sidled up to me, giving me a very obvious once-over.

“Hey.” I checked him out, not bothering to be subtle since he hadn’t. His skinny jeans were so tight they looked painted on,and the fishnet crop top showed off his lean stomach and tight chest.

Not my type, but not terrible.

“You waiting for someone?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Want to dance?” He ticked his head toward the dance floor.

“Sure.”

Why the fuck not.

Grinning, he took my hand and pulled me to a clear space between couples.

I’d never danced with anyone other than Ez and Wes. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. I’d danced with women in the past, but that was either at church events or weddings. That kind of dancing wasn’t much more than swaying back and forth and keeping as much distance between you as possible so you didn’t get in trouble for indecency.

Blondie definitely didn’t dance like that.

I tried to relax and let the music take over, but everything about the moment felt wrong.

He wasn’t who I wanted, and I couldn’t get into it.

Just as the song ended and I was about to make a polite exit, a big, hot body pressed against my back.