Hot breath fanned across his neck, carried away by the music and alcohol.
Absentmindedly, Persha ground against the person behind him, his body rolling to the beat as large hands roamed every inch of him.
For a moment, it felt like no one else existed in the room except him and his prey for the night.
Until his world came crashing down with one single sentence.
“I miss you.”
Suddenly, the hot breath no longer sent shivers down his spine.
Instead, it made his stomach churn.
Marcel Stonner.
His demon of an ex.
He had been grinding against Marcel this entire time.
Who knew alcohol could leave a person’s system in seconds?
Because Persha was sober now.
Completely sober.
He refused to cause a scene.
Refused to acknowledge the mistake he had just made.
Swiftly turning around, he attempted to walk away toward the bathroom to clear his head, but Marcel had other plans.
“Where are you going?” Marcel whispered against his ear, dragging Persha flush against his body and locking him in place.
“Let go,” Persha shouted, though the music swallowed his voice whole.
Marcel used that to his advantage.
Nobody around them was paying attention, too consumed by the party to notice what was happening.
He had enough privacy to do whatever the hell he wanted.
One hand gripped Persha’s waist while the other held his head firmly in place.
“Let go, you bastard,” Persha shouted again.
“Get off.
Get the fuck off me.”
Before Marcel’s lips could touch his, he was suddenly yanked away by someone Persha did not expect to see tonight.
“Ah…
I’m sorry, I didn’t mea…”
His voice cut off abruptly when a hand grabbed his head, shutting him up instantly.
Tiffany adjusted his glasses and fixed his messy hair.
“No need to apologize,” she said calmly, watching him steady himself and pull himself together.
An embarrassed smile spread across his flushed face.
He tried desperately to avoid eye contact with her chest, which proved difficult considering her breasts were practically spilling out of her dress.
A dress far too short to even be considered a proper dress.
She noticed his distress immediately, a sly smile stretching across her face.
“Instead of apologizing, why don’t you say thank you?” she asked, shifting her weight slightly.
“This is Tiff, and this is Any,” she said, lightly bouncing each breast as she introduced them.
“Say thank you to them.”
She said it so casually, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Wha…
sorry?”
“They saved you, didn’t they?” she asked, holding his face gently.
Baylee gulped.
He knew it was inappropriate to stare at a woman’s chest, and people were already beginning to look their way.
Squeezing his eyes shut tightly, he opened them again and stared directly ahead.
“Um…
thank you, Tiff and Any?” he said awkwardly, sounding more like he was asking a question than giving gratitude.
Finally, he forced himself to look back at the woman standing in front of him.
“You’re welcome,” Tiffany replied with a laugh.
With the help of her heels, she towered over him easily.
“What’s your name, handsome?” she asked softly, fingers trailing down his face.
Baylee shivered and shuffled away from her touch slightly.
Baylee.
My name’s Baylee.
Baylee Miles,” he replied, adjusting the glasses on his face nervously.
“Nice to meet you, Baylee Miles.”
***
Marcel staggered backward, trying to regain his footing.
Anger burned visibly across his face, but it died instantly the moment he realized who had pulled him off persha.
Zabi Foss.
Her expression was unreadable as always.
Persha could barely make out her face beneath the dim lighting and the strands of dark hair falling across it.
She wore loose trousers and a fitted vest, though he could not properly tell what color either of them were beneath the flashing lights.
His heartbeat spiked uncontrollably.
“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate you doing what you were about to do stonner.” Zabi said loudly enough for Marcel to hear clearly.
Like the sly snake he was, Marcel immediately reached for an excuse.
“My bad.
Guess I had too much to drink,” he said with a careless laugh.
He did not apologize to Persha.
not even acknowledging him.
Clearly, he saw no wrong in what he had just done.
And with one last look At Zabi, he walked away.
Zabi never broke eye contact with Marcel until he finally disappeared into the crowd.
Now it was just the two of them.
Persha could not bring himself to look at her, his heart racing from embarrassment and something else entirely.
Something he could not quite name yet.
“follow me” She says leaning down close enough for him to hear her.
So he simply let her walk him toward the nearest bathroom to cool off.
Hello Gentle Readers…
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