I fall right into his huge arms like a damned fairy tale. Okay, now I'm really pissed.
Ty flattens me against the wall as I fling my elbows against his hard abs, screaming my frustration. It doesn't faze him.
“Shhh. Quiet, babe. Just relax.” His voice rolls low, soothing, dangerously close to my ear. “Let me walk you out for a taxi. Just need to get a shirt on. I never got your name.”
“No!” Hellfire flows through my elbows again, and I stab him in the guts, as hard as I can.
I can't even hope to hurt him. I don't care if he's trying to help. I don't trust this jackass, and I need to get away before he drives me insane. I shove my elbows into his rock hard abs two more times, squirming like a madwoman.
He's just stunned enough to let me go, and I practically crawl up the stairs. For some dumb reason, I stop and look back, using the banister to get back on my feet.
There's a wicked sneer twisting his lips. He looks at me like something he's just stepped in, shakes his head, and shrugs. “Fine, babe, do it your way. Go the fuck home. Get some sleep.”
My stomach heaves. I'm terrified I'm about to lose the liquor left in my belly all over the place. I fight back the urge to vomit and watch him stomping back to his room.
I feel like total shit. I've made an ass of myself way too many times tonight, even if it was partially this dickhead's fault. I call out to him and stumble forward, back down the stairs, before I know what I'm doing.
“Wait!” My voice echoes down the long corridor.
He stops when he's almost to the burgundy door and turns, waiting for me. “Is there any way I can hit you back for the money? I spent it, and I shouldn't have.”
Brutal guilt. Shame. Typical for a Frost girl, especially one who grew up seeing her mom slandered every two years for re-election. But I don't want to owe this fucker a dime, even if we're talking about my own internal good karma counter instead of money.
“You don't owe me shit,” he growls. “I paid you for the laugh, just like I said. No different than any other entertainment tonight. You wanna give me something? Go home and rest like I told you. You're not Club Zing material.”
“You're not my boss.” I try not to shake my head, though it's impossible when this ham-fisted apology is the dumbest idea in the world. “I just want you to know I'm not a bitch. I'm not a bad person.”
He looks me up and down. Slowly. His eyes zero in on my cleavage, and I flush.
“Does that mean you changed your mind about the foursome?” He steps close, and next thing I know, I'm back against the wall. Fighting but not really fighting as he moves in for a kiss. “Shit, I'd settle for one on one at this point. Drunk and pissed, you're still fucking hot.”
Hot. Nobody's ever called me that before. It's the only explanation for why I let his vile lips connect with mine.
This isn't a kiss. This is a fucking explosion on my lips. My entire body tenses up, muscles clench, everything below the waist writhes like I'm made of snakes. I moan just as he presses his tongue in my mouth.
Of course, I've read about sexual tension in books and seen it on the big screen. I just didn't think it really happened, not like this animal spark igniting between us.
His tongue twines with mine and his lips move rougher, faster. My palms are on his back and my fingers go jagged, tearing at the skin underneath his thin robe. I can't decide if I want to hurt him or make him fuck me.
The unbelievable hard-on I feel grinding on my thigh definitely says he's willing.
I'm about to come completely undone when my legs kick hard. I knock my knees on his and shove my hands to the wall, twisting and flattening myself, crazy to get away before I do something I'll really regret. The other shit that's happened tonight is an afternoon sprinkle compared to this hurricane staring me down.
“Don't!” I yell, pushing against him when he comes close. “Really. I mean it. This was all a mistake...I need to go.”
“That's not what your body says, babe. I know a girl who wants to fuck when I see one. Hell, I can taste how bad you want it.”
I run. This time, I don't stop. I'm like a hummingbird darting up the stairs and through the bar, grabbing Dana by the wrist.
“Hey! I've been wondering where the hell you went. I've got your water if you want to down it before they –“
“We need to go. Right now, Dana. Now, now, now,” I whisper, urgent as all hell. “Let's find a cab.”
The rest of the night happens in a blur. Dana makes me crash at her apartment, and she doesn't let me sleep until I take a multivitamin and swallow three huge glasses of water.
I keep telling her I'm okay. I whisper something about a guy being too aggressive, too close to me when I'm drunk off my ass.