I did get a look at his ass, though. It answered the question of what his body probably looked like underneath there...
Damn. It was so friggin hot.
I was having way too many thoughts about naked bodies— Conall's naked body!—to know that taking his card would be a mistake. The best thing would be to go find the nearest, cleanest bathroom, release the physical tension as fast as I could, and then start thinking clearly again.
I swigged the rest of my soda water down in one gulp.
I looked at his card.
I snatched it.
CHAPTER TWO
-1-
Cringe 's music snaked around me as I waited outside on one of the massive flowerpots, letting the night breeze cool my skin. The club had a passageway just outside it which formed a kind of a tunnel of air in the cooler months, and a mini sweatbox in the warmer ones. Luckily, it was the former.
I had my eyes closed and had brought the half-empty bottle of mineral water out with me because I just had to get some air! As would be expected, one guy came up to me (he was hot, yes, and, no, he had no shirt on... It's a very popular thing for muscled guys to do at Cringe .) This dude wasn't as big as "Brad" and certainly didn't look as old. (Brad had looked to be in his mid twenties to me.) Mr. Flirter now on my side looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. Twenty-one at a stretch. Actually, he looked a little too much like Kayla's ex (on the body side, not the face) and that just made me, well, cringe . (Maybe that's why they called this place that name...)
I really wasn't interested in what Mr. Smoothie here had to say. I mean, he had the potential: an athletic build (which he was standing there flexing just to make sure I absolutely saw that, yes, he did have muscles. He was so stiff it looked like he had a vibrator up his ass. And that it was on.)
I don't even remember most of the shit the guy said to me. It was eleven-thirty and I was starting to get worried about Kayla. I checked my phone and I hadn't gotten a call or message from her. I put my phone back in my pouch (yeah, my mini-skirt had a phone pouch) and started tapping my feet. Mr. Flirty eventually left (thank God!) and I started walking around randomly, hoping to bump into her (as if!)
Should I call her? Should I not? After that embarrassing moment earlier, I dared not. But it had been thirty minutes since then. And I didn't care how "experienced" Kayla was, thirty minutes in the back of a care is just uncomfortable by any standards! Even I knew that!
I hefted my phone, walked up and down the street outside the Cringe passageway.
At fifteen of twelve, I tried again.
I'm so glad I did.
-2-
At first the phone just rang, and that's when I knew something was wrong. I tried another two times and still nothing. I called for my driver (don't judge!) because there was a built-in computer in the back and I could use the "Find My iPhone" feature to locate her. (We both had each other's passwords.)
The computer booted up and I logged into her account. I clicked the link for "Find my iPhone" and got that dumbass compass swiveling back and forth while it said "Locating..."
"Come on!" I shouted at the screen!
Locating...
"Damn it." I was properly berating myself for having left her alone for so long. But now wasn't the time.
Locating...
I tapped my knee.
The screen said: "All Devices Offline."
"Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shit!"
I clicked "Devices" at the top left. The little green circle thingy on the left was greyed out. "Damn it."
I looked out the window frantically, back at the computer. The light was green! I clicked it. Underneath the name of her iPhone ("Kayla's BadAss Music Phone") it said "Online. No location available."
I clicked "Play Sound" (as if that would help) but then, out the window, I saw...that...that...that fucking asshole! I jumped out the car.
"Hey! Punk! Where's my girlfriend?" I said
"Brad" gave me a smirk as he stood with his thumbs in his pockets. "Who?"
I charged over to him, poked him on
Damn. It was so friggin hot.
I was having way too many thoughts about naked bodies— Conall's naked body!—to know that taking his card would be a mistake. The best thing would be to go find the nearest, cleanest bathroom, release the physical tension as fast as I could, and then start thinking clearly again.
I swigged the rest of my soda water down in one gulp.
I looked at his card.
I snatched it.
CHAPTER TWO
-1-
Cringe 's music snaked around me as I waited outside on one of the massive flowerpots, letting the night breeze cool my skin. The club had a passageway just outside it which formed a kind of a tunnel of air in the cooler months, and a mini sweatbox in the warmer ones. Luckily, it was the former.
I had my eyes closed and had brought the half-empty bottle of mineral water out with me because I just had to get some air! As would be expected, one guy came up to me (he was hot, yes, and, no, he had no shirt on... It's a very popular thing for muscled guys to do at Cringe .) This dude wasn't as big as "Brad" and certainly didn't look as old. (Brad had looked to be in his mid twenties to me.) Mr. Flirter now on my side looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. Twenty-one at a stretch. Actually, he looked a little too much like Kayla's ex (on the body side, not the face) and that just made me, well, cringe . (Maybe that's why they called this place that name...)
I really wasn't interested in what Mr. Smoothie here had to say. I mean, he had the potential: an athletic build (which he was standing there flexing just to make sure I absolutely saw that, yes, he did have muscles. He was so stiff it looked like he had a vibrator up his ass. And that it was on.)
I don't even remember most of the shit the guy said to me. It was eleven-thirty and I was starting to get worried about Kayla. I checked my phone and I hadn't gotten a call or message from her. I put my phone back in my pouch (yeah, my mini-skirt had a phone pouch) and started tapping my feet. Mr. Flirty eventually left (thank God!) and I started walking around randomly, hoping to bump into her (as if!)
Should I call her? Should I not? After that embarrassing moment earlier, I dared not. But it had been thirty minutes since then. And I didn't care how "experienced" Kayla was, thirty minutes in the back of a care is just uncomfortable by any standards! Even I knew that!
I hefted my phone, walked up and down the street outside the Cringe passageway.
At fifteen of twelve, I tried again.
I'm so glad I did.
-2-
At first the phone just rang, and that's when I knew something was wrong. I tried another two times and still nothing. I called for my driver (don't judge!) because there was a built-in computer in the back and I could use the "Find My iPhone" feature to locate her. (We both had each other's passwords.)
The computer booted up and I logged into her account. I clicked the link for "Find my iPhone" and got that dumbass compass swiveling back and forth while it said "Locating..."
"Come on!" I shouted at the screen!
Locating...
"Damn it." I was properly berating myself for having left her alone for so long. But now wasn't the time.
Locating...
I tapped my knee.
The screen said: "All Devices Offline."
"Shit. Shit shit shit shit. Shit!"
I clicked "Devices" at the top left. The little green circle thingy on the left was greyed out. "Damn it."
I looked out the window frantically, back at the computer. The light was green! I clicked it. Underneath the name of her iPhone ("Kayla's BadAss Music Phone") it said "Online. No location available."
I clicked "Play Sound" (as if that would help) but then, out the window, I saw...that...that...that fucking asshole! I jumped out the car.
"Hey! Punk! Where's my girlfriend?" I said
"Brad" gave me a smirk as he stood with his thumbs in his pockets. "Who?"
I charged over to him, poked him on
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