Midnight Muse

“I think you should change it to ‘the most special cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of coming on.’”

“I think there’s a character limit,” I exhale harshly, and for some reason, I can’t stop looking at his lips.

His tongue darts out to wet them. To tease me.

“Oh, Quinn,” he whispers, and when he says my name like that, it makes me shudder with pleasure. My eyelashes flutter with the sensation that zips down my back. “You’ve never been one to complain about length.”

I bark out a sharp laugh that has the other three looking our way. I’m sure it wasn’t Knox’s intended reaction, but he smiles easily, drawing away only slightly so our friends don’t figure out what’s going on behind our menus. His eyes are still hot on mine, and I know that I’m going to be in for it later tonight.

“Hi there,” a cheerful voice greets, the waitress interrupts us before Knox can continue his incessant teasing.

She’s pretty, young and youthful, full of happiness. Her bright orange hair is in unruly circlets, barely tamed by the claw clip it’s slowly falling out of. It works for her, though, and stands out starkly against her dark uniform and bright eyes.

“I’m Isla, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I get you all started to—” Her light tone drops and her smile falls when her eyes meet Slates. She’s quick to recover, I’ll give her that, clearing her throat and looking pointedly down at the notepad in her hands. “Do you know what you want to order or do we still need some time here?”

I almost rear back in my seat from the sudden change in her tone. It seems forced, and she’s chewing on her lip nervously, like it’s taking all of her self-control to not sprint out of here.

It only takes one glance at Slate to understand what I’m seeing, because he’s slipped down in his seat and is hanging his head like a scolded child.

“A few more minutes would be great,” Knox pipes up, trying to ease her discomfort with a soft smile. “Thanks, Isla.”

She nods and skitters away. I hope that she can’t feel all of our gazes on her back and she descends into the kitchen like a dog is nipping at her heels, but none of us can seem to pry our gazes away until the door swings shut behind her, then we’re all whipping our heads around to stare at Slate.

“What was that all about?” Rory asks, breaking the uncomfortable silence first.

“Nothing,” Slate answers all too quickly, and the rest of us share glances.

It’s obvious that something has happened between Slate and the waitress, but he’s never acted like this in the presence of one of his flings before. Perhaps she was a failed conquest, one that saw through his playboy act. He’s fucked so many girls that I didn’t even know it was capable for him to feel bad about any of them, unless something really went wrong in the bedroom that time.

“What? You forget her name or something?” Ace jokes. Rory scolds him but Slate ignores them, turning one of the harshest glares—one of the only glares—I’ve ever seen him make on Knox.

Knox’s hand on my thigh tenses and even I flinch a little under that look Slate’s throwing his way. “I thought you said she wasn’t working tonight,” Slate grumbles, sinking even lower in his seat. He resembles a kicked puppy, and it’s so unlike him that I’m feeling concerned on his behalf.

Knox only shrugs, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and drawing me against his side. “I didn’t think that she was.”

“Fucking douchewaffle,” Slate mutters, and I hide my grin in Knox’s shoulder.

After Slate has eaten his bodyweight in pancakes, we head over to one of the bars only a block away. It’s packed with people, which Slate preferred when we offered to go to a less popular bar or even when we offered to all go back to the apartments and drink the rest of the night away.

It seems like he’s more than ready to forget about whatever the fuck happened back at Rhonda’s.

The air is hot with bodies and laughter. As we make our way through the throng of people, I’m glad that Knox talked me into a pit stop at the apartment so that I could put my things away before we went for our late dinner.

My hand is tucked tightly into his as we shove through the crowd to the dance floor. Rory is leading the charge, tugging on my other hand while Ace had gone off after Slate to apologize and make sure he’s getting everyone drinks and not just himself.

Knox isn’t usually one for parties, and I’m worried that he’ll be uncomfortable here, especially as Rory draws us into the center of the crowd. Peering over my shoulder, I’m pleasantly surprised to find Knox easing his way through the dance-floor, shoulders lax as the clubby music washes over us. It’s bass heavy, which isn’t unlike the music I’ve heard him listen to through the wall, but I know that he prefers hard riffs and lyrics that are screamed so loud it makes my eardrums rattle.

He tosses me a smile that he only reserves for me.

I can feel his gaze on me while I dance with Rory, letting the beat of the music wash over me, drawing the rest of my unease away. I know I’ll have to face my project again tomorrow, but for now, I revel in the feeling of being free, being with all of my friends.

Ace hands Knox and I drinks when he returns. I take a sip of mine and hum in approval. It’s something fruity and I can barely taste the alcohol, which means it’s dangerous. Delicious. There is no Slate in sight and Ace shrugs, pulling Rory into his side when he shouts that he’s still by the bar, taking shots with a group of girls that stopped him.

I roll my eyes because that is very much like Slate. Knox pulls me into his front, plastering his broad body up against mine. His free hand slides around my waist, pinning me to him in a possessive way, and when I peek up over my shoulder, I catch him glaring at a guy a few feet away, whose face drops when they flicker down to the way that Knox is holding me and then back up again.

I can’t help the giddy feeling that erupts in my stomach and I use the brim of my cup to hide my grin when the boy turns away and slithers back through the crowd with his tail tucked between his legs.

I roll my hips with the rhythm, my ass brushing up against Knox’s front where I can feel the beginnings of his interest against my hind. His grip on me tightens, tugging me even closer and steadying me against his chest when I stumble.