Save Yourself by H.G. Lynch Read Free Book Online Page B

shit?”
    The big guy, Jet, flipped Brogan off.
    Brogan snorted and shook his head, muttering, “That’s what I get for putting my roommate in charge of the music.”
    Then he looked at me and a shiver passed from my head to my toes.
    “First things first, let’s get you a drink.”
    I didn’t protest as he grabbed my hand and dragged me through the throng of drunken, gyrating guys and girls. His fingers were long and strong, gripping mine tightly, and I remembered with painful clarity how they’d felt rubbing me through my panties at the club. Immediately, my stomach tightened, and my face turned hot.
    Brogan glanced back at me, his heather-coloured eyes blazing with hunger from under his unruly black hair. He paused, pulling me close, and bent to whisper in my ear, “Patience, Kez. We’ve got the whole night ahead of us yet.”
    My heart tripped over a beat from the silent promise in his words, and suddenly being patient was the last thing on my mind. Brogan smirked, and towed me into the kitchen area. He grabbed me a can of cider out of the fridge, and told me not to move while he went to talk to the big guy, Jet. I watched them talk for a moment, saw Jet glance at me and nod. I nodded back politely, and he said something to Brogan. Then Brogan was back by my side, watching me sip from my can.
    “What was that about?” I asked, jerking my chin toward Jet, who was back to fiddling with the docking station.
    Brogan blinked. “Huh? Oh, I was just telling Jet to quit fucking with the music. Nobody wants to listen to Lady Gaga for Christ’s sake.”
    He was lying, I could tell, but I didn’t push. I didn’t really care if he was talking to Jet about me. I was there for one reason; to get this guy out of my system, so I could go back to my life without him plaguing my dreams every night.
    Of course, Evie was going to have a fit when she found out. But whatever. At nineteen, I was technically an adult. I could do what I liked, and she was the one who was always telling me I was too uptight. Well, for one night only, I was officially loosey goosey.
    “Wanna dance?” Brogan offered when I’d drained the last of my cider and tossed the can in the bin.
    I shrugged, trying not to seem too eager, but damn, I was more than ready for him to put his hands on me again. We joined the couple dozen people pawing each other in the middle of the room, and the smell of cigarettes, alcohol and sweat was masked by the woodsy scent of Brogan as he tugged me close. He put his hands on my hips, and the song changed to something slow and sexy with a pounding bass line.
    Brogan flashed his white teeth in a grin. “I love this song,” he purred and started moving, slowly rolling his hips to the beat.
    I forgot about my uneasiness, forgot about the people around us. It was just him, me, and the music. For a long moment, I was too dazed to move, just watching him dance as if he was fucking the air, his eyes on fire. Heat pooled low in my gut, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I licked my lips, tossed my hair back, and began to dance, meeting his rhythm.
    Brogan’s eyes darkened. He yanked me forward by the hips until I was pressed against him, and his arms snaked around my waist. One of his hands slid up my spine and knotted in my hair, gently pulling my head back as he rocked against me. I could hardly breathe, as if my brain had forgotten how to make my lungs work, and my body ached in all the right places. Brogan dipped his head, his breath hot against my neck, and I remembered, in a flash, the dream I’d had where he’d bitten me. For a crazy second, I thought he would bite me, and the idea both scared and thrilled me.
    Instead, his breath trailed up my neck and along my jaw, and my eyelids fluttered shut. My heart raced with anticipation. I was painfully aware of his hand spread on the small of my back, his fingers laced in my hair, and the hardness of his chest against mine. He was no longer dancing, his focus all on me. He