Rowdy || 18+ || RH

Chapter 13 🌶️

Emersyn

Returning to our corner table, the laughter and playful conversation continue. We're all feeling the effects of the drinks by now, our movements looser, our speech a bit more slurred. My body is warm, a mix of the alcohol and the arousal that's been pulsing deep in my core. I need to do something about it, but I can't right now.

I don't know, maybe I can go to the bathroom and find a quick release in there. It only takes me a few minutes to bring myself to orgasm. I think I could do it and be back in time as thought not to draw suspicion to myself.

"Emmie," Fowler declares, taking me out of my thoughts, his words drawn out and a little tipsy, "you should join the professional pool circuit!"

I laugh, shaking my head, my thoughts still drifting back to Marx at the bar. "I think I'll leave that to the experts," I reply, looking over to the bar where Marx's white hair is visible as he mixes another cocktail. His movements are graceful, his concentration focused, but there's a rigidity to his posture I can't ignore.

Cruz nudges me, his eyes bright with mischief. "Come on, Em, don't be so modest! That was one hell of a shot!"

I roll my eyes, laughing with them, but my attention is suddenly caught by someone approaching our table.

The man is strikingly handsome, his features finely chiseled and symmetrical. His dark, wavy hair is impeccably styled, giving him a slightly rakish appearance. His eyes are a deep, captivating green, framed by thick, dark lashes that any woman would envy. His lips are full and expressive, and they quirk up in an inviting smile as he looks directly at me.

Standing at least six feet tall, his build is athletic, with broad shoulders that taper down to a narrow waist. His black t-shirt hugs his body perfectly, and the way he carries himself exudes an air of confidence and charisma. He radiates a warmth that draws people in, and I find myself unable to look away.

"Hi," he says, his voice smooth and melodic, with a hint of an accent I can't quite place. "I've been watching you and your friends having a great time, and I couldn't help but notice you. Would you like to dance?"

I'm taken aback, but before I can respond, Fowler, Locke, and Cruz are all cheering me on.

"Yes, yes she will," Fowler urges, pushing me in the direction of the man.

"Don't let us hold you back," Locke adds, smiling at me.

I glance back at Marx and see that he's watching us closely, his eyes dark and intense. Something in his expression sends a chill down my spine, but I can't quite put my finger on what it is.

Looking back at the attractive stranger, I feel a spark of excitement. "Sure," I say, smiling back at him. "Why not?"

As we head to the dance floor, I can feel Marx's eyes on me, and I glance back at him one last time. His expression is unreadable, but his eyes hold a deep intensity that makes my heart race.

The music changes to a lively beat, and the handsome stranger takes my hand, leading me into the dance. His movements are fluid and confident, and I find myself swept up in the rhythm, losing myself in the music and the intoxicating sensation of his body moving in perfect harmony with mine.

The dance continues, and the man's smooth movements keep me enchanted. His hand finds the small of my back, and we move together as if we've been partners for years. His green eyes lock onto mine, and I can see a spark of something more.

"You're really beautiful, you know that?" he says, his voice low and inviting.

I blush, caught off guard by the compliment but pleased all the same. "Thank you," I stammer, trying to maintain my composure.