Zach easily caught the beer that Conall tossed at his head without his eyes ever leaving the partying crowd.
“Crowd looks pretty good tonight, huh?” Conall walked behind Zach, his own beer grasped firmly in hand.
“Guess.” Zach took a long gulp, and went back to scanning the crowd.
“Not here yet, is she?”
Zach glanced at his friend. “Who?”
“Zach, don’t bullshit me.” Conall smirked.
He was right, of course. Zach was looking for her. He couldn’t stop himself from looking for her. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she shoved her tongue in his mouth.
“Oh, her.” He tried to sound disinterested. “Yates still wants me babysitting her. That’s all.”
“Yeah. That’s all.” Conall could at least pretend to buy his brand of bullshit.
“She’s probably not coming anyway. Your big-mouthed girlfriend probably talked her out of it.”
“I have to ask you not to call the woman I love my girlfriend…she’s my future wife!” Zach shook his head as Conall grinned. “Besides, that Latina was definitely coming and I’m thinking she’s not coming here without ‘em.”
Zach hoped Conall was right. He needed to see her. To prove to himself that she wasn’t anything but a distraction. A problem to be solved. Nothing more. Yeah, right.
It was the “Whoooowho! This fuckin’ rocks!” that caught his and Conall’s attention. Christ, these women were loud.
Zach looked through the crowd, his eyes picking up images that others would never see. He caught sight of her pretty quickly. The Latina was dragging Sara and the other one to the middle of the rave. This was definitely not their first all-night rave. They had no purses. No jackets. And they were prepared to sweat the night away. The Latina—Angelina, right?—had her long hair in a pony tail, allowing the black bustier she was wearing to be seen in all its tight, form-fitting glory. Plus, baggy blue jeans and sneakers. And the thong peeking out from under her jeans was a nice touch. The other one had on a tight belly shirt displaying a gorgeous set of abs that he could hear Conall growling over, shorts, and hiking boots. Sara was sporting a tank top, green camouflage skirt with cowboy boots, and a hat that on anyone else he would have said looked stupid. But it worked for her. Although he figured she was wearing it to hide the scar on her face, the logic of which completely escaped him.
Sara didn’t dance. Her damaged leg prevented that. But she moved really well. Nothing elaborate or fancy. And her moves weren’t exactly “stripper-hot,” which he and Conall had learned to appreciate over the years. But whatever she did, it made his dick bang against the inside of his jeans demanding release…release into her.
Tragically, Conall was not fairing so well. “My. God. She is the worst dancer I’ve ever seen.”
Zach had forgotten there was anyone else at the rave until Conall spoke. His eyes shifted and he took in Miki’s idea of dancing. It was kind of sad…and frightening. But clearly she was having a good time.
“But,” Conall added, “Her ass looks great in those shorts.”
Zach shook his head, Conall was hopeless.
After about an hour of straight dancing, Miki motioned that the water bottle she had brought with her was empty. Sara and Miki moved through the crowd, leaving Angelina behind. She had found herself a nice crowd of beautiful boys to dance with and seemed happy enough.
“Great music, huh?” Miki asked when they had finally extricated themselves from the dancing crowd.
“Amazing!” There were European DJs here; she recognized several of them. How did some, to quote Miki, “low-life bikers” get amazing DJs like these to come out to the middle of nowhere?
The pair made their way to the edge of the park grounds. The first booth they hit was manned by two tall women.
“Is it me or a lot of these females mammoth size?” Miki muttered quietly, almost to herself. Almost. Clearly the two women heard her as they turned and glared.
“Two waters,” Sara asked quickly hoping she wasn’t about to get in one of those fights caused by Miki’s big mouth.
One of the women moved over to them and looked at Sara. Looked at her hard for several long seconds. Uh-oh, I am going to have to fight. Fuckin’ Miki! She thought desperately as the woman reached under the fold-out table and grabbed two waters and handed them to Sara.
Sara, releasing a breath, went to pull cash out of her back pocket but the woman stopped her. “Take it. No charge.”
Sara looked up at the sign that clearly listed water bottle prices. And the tiny bottles she held were $5 each. This was getting weird.
“Why?”
“Take the water and go.” The woman turned her back to them and went back to her friend.
“What the hell…”
“Hi.” Sara and Miki turned to find Miki’s big blond stalker standing next to them. He nodded at Sara but smiled at Miki.
“Hi,” Sara answered. “Nice little party.”
“Thanks. Name’s Conall.” It was like Sara and the other 300 people weren’t even there.
Miki nodded, “Great.”
It was in fact physically painful to watch Miki and Conall stand there, with absolutely no idea what to say next. “Well.” Miki glanced at Sara, but when her friend offered no assistance, she decided to make a break for it. “Bye.” Miki took her bottle of water and walked off.
Sara’s head tilted to the side as she watched the dejected expression on Conall’s face. She just couldn’t help herself, “Well, don’t just stand there. Go get her.”
“I think she hates me.”
“Are you kidding? She really likes you. She’s just shy.”
“Really?” He disappeared into the crowd, looking for the elusive Miki.
Sara let out a laugh as she realized that Miki would make her pay dearly for this tomorrow.
“Having a good time fuckin’ with my friend?”
Or she may be paying for it a lot sooner.
He was behind her. His breath in her ear, as he leaned into her. He didn’t touch her, but her entire body was on fire wanting him to touch her.
“I didn’t…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence. This was getting just ridiculous. She forced her body to move away from him. “Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she snapped as she turned to face him. Great. The sleeveless Harley T-shirt he wore, revealing large tanned muscular arms sporting tattoos on both triceps and his left forearm, was not helping her keep her composure, “And I’m sure your sturdy friend there can take care of himself.”
“Against her? Are you kidding? That girl’s mean as a snake.”
“No, she’s… Don’t talk about my friends.”
“Don’t mess with mine.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
The two stood staring at each other. And Sara didn’t know whether to punch him in the stomach or lick the black tribal tattoo on his right shoulder.
In order to avoid both, she turned and walked away. She’d gotten several feet when she realized he was walking beside her. She stopped, “What?”
“I didn’t say a word.”
Sara took several more steps but realized he was still there with her. She stopped again, this time turning to face him. “What are you doing?”
“Living life to its fullest.”
Sara’s eyes narrowed, “Go away.”
“Why?” Zach leaned into her, but still didn’t touch her, “Do I make you nervous?”
She snorted, “Please. I’ve known tougher gangs than you people.” She started walking again, but stopped short when she realized he was no longer walking with her. It was what she had asked for but she didn’t expect him to actually listen. She looked back at him, “What?”