Ambrosia
Inever go out but when I do, it’s never during the week and never when I have an early meeting the next day. Which is why being at this club with my friend Carly is a very bad idea.
“You just moved to the Bay area, Ambrosia. Let me take you out and show you what San Francisco has to offer,” she told me this afternoon.
Since moving to San Francisco, I’ve had very little time getting to know my new home because my focus has been solely on my new job at Simply Surrogates. But a little fun every now and then couldn’t hurt? Could it?
“Oh my god,” Carly gushes. “There are so many hot guys here!”
We’ve managed to snag a high-top table that overlooks the dance floor. Our table is already littered with empty shot glasses and I’m already on my second margarita.
The club is packed with bodies and the thumping bass of dance music is electric in my veins. All of the women are wearing short dresses, hoping to catch the biggest fish in the sea. I feel self-conscious and frumpy in my black jumpsuit. It fits me perfectly but I’m probably not showing enough skin to even get a nibble.
“It’s time you lose your v-card, Ambrosia,” Carly says with a wink. “Now, which one of these lucky fellows is going to feast on your lady taco tonight?”
I nearly spit out my drink at Carly’s crass comment. “Oh my god, Carly.”
“I’m serious! You just need to find some hottie and hook the fuck up. Get it over with.”
I roll my eyes. Carly acts like I’m a nun but believe me, I’m nowhere close to sainthood. I’ve fooled around with plenty of guys, but my virginity is sacred. I’m not just going to let anyone have it. There has to be at least some kind of connection, a spark of some sort.
“Come on, let’s dance!” Carly says after chugging the rest of her drink. She stands up on wobbly legs and grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. I follow her onto the dance floor that’s overflowing with people writhing against one another.
Dancing and getting carried away in the rhythm of a song is one of my favorite things. Alcohol warms my body with its liquid courage and my inhibitions loosen with each pulse of the song’s beat. The DJ plays a popular track that has everyone cheering and raising their arms. My hips sway to the music and I close my eyes as my body moves to the melody.
When strange hands slide around my waist, my eyes pop open. Carly grins and shakes her head with approval. Then she disappears into the crowd.
The stranger and I move together, our bodies pressed back to front until the song ends. When I turn, my heart skips a beat at the pair of smoldering cola-brown eyes staring down at me. The DJ starts to play another song, this one slow and sensual, and my arms slide up around my partner’s neck. I step closer, pressing myself against him, inhaling his scent. He smells so fucking good; like he just stepped out of the shower. But there’s a hint of something exotic that makes my mouth water.
His grip on my hips tightens as we sway to the music together, our bodies completely in sync. Every few moments, my eyes flick up and I catch him; he’s totally focused on me. He slides his hands up to my waist and pulls me even closer, until I can feel his hard erection pressing against my belly. My hands tangle in his dark hair, tugging at the strands until he bends his head to give me what I want. His lips.
We stop dancing so I can reach up and kiss him. He tastes like something spicy with a hint of sweetness. His arms tighten around me, hugging me close as he deepens our kiss. His tongue brushes along the seam of my lips and I open for him. He steals my breath and weakens my knees.
At last, we break apart, breathless. He’s panting heavily as he holds me in his darkened gaze. We stand in the middle of a crowded dance floor completely transfixed.
“What’s your name,” he practically yells.
“Ambrosia,” I shout.
A sly grin spreads across his lips. “Yes, you fucking are.” He grabs my hand and leads me through the massive crowd. We stop in front of a roped-off area and my handsome stranger leans forward to talk to the security guard. They shake hands and then the guard unclips the rope to let us through.
It’s much quieter here, which I assume is the VIP area. There are private rooms on one side, all with views of the club and the dance floor. He stops at the very last one and steps inside. The moment I cross the curtained threshold, he has me pinned against the wall, his mouth claiming me in a searing kiss.
His hands travel the length of my body, tracing my slight curves while his mouth devours me. My knees tremble and I feel a familiar ache between my legs. He swallows my moan and replies with his own feral growl.
He tears his mouth from mine and steps away. Without his strong hands to hold me up, I sag against the wall.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Who the fuck are you?”
“I could ask you the same question,” I tell him with the quirk of my brow.
He smiles. “Sorry. I’m Devon.” His hand reaches down and adjusts the bulge straining against his pants. “You’ve whipped me up into quite the frenzy.”
“Sounds like a personal problem,” I tease.
He steps forward and cups my chin in his hand. “You’ve got a smart mouth, Ambrosia.”
I slowly sink to my knees and look up at him through my lashes. “It’s talented too.”
