Page 10 of The Cowboy's Cabaret

“Thanks, Wes! It means so much you guys came to see me dance. Hopefully it wasn’t too crowded down there.”

“The only thing crowded right now is Wes’ pant—” I’m smacking Jasper hard on the chest to shut him up before he notifies the entirety of this hallway about my unrelenting hard-on. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, of course it’s to fuck with me.

“Naw, it was amazing. You’re a great dancer. Seriously, it was awesome.”

Dahlia smiles up at me. “I’ll be wrapped up in like ten minutes. Just gotta change and we can grab a drink. Daphne is about to be done with her shift too, so we can chill for a bit.”

In the tenminutes Dahlia spends changing, I’ve strengthened my resolve to follow her lead for friendship or whatever she wants with me—I’m at her mercy. It’s not fair for me to act like a horny caveman from watching her dance—doing her job, mind you. Though when I do my job, I don’t look like that, for damn sure. She reappears, still made up in all her glory, but dressed in a tight black dress. We decide to grab drinks from the bar, where Daphne waits with shots for each of us.

“Cowboy Cocksuckers, anyone?” she asks with a quirk of her brow. The butterscotch and Bailey’s concoction is delicious, though Jasper eyes it like it’s poison.

I’m ready for another when the song changes, making Dahlia shriek as she runs off to the darkened dance floor. I throw back the shot and decide to brave the crowd to dance too. No reason.

As I’m weaving through the scantily clad bodies, I see Dahlia sandwiched between a woman in the tallest heels I’ve ever seen and a massive broad-shouldered dude. The red head at her front is moving the hair off Dahlia’s shoulder, while the dude is gripping her hips as he dances on her from behind. I’m trying to tamp down the jealousy making a home in my chest when I feel hands trail up my stomach.

The hands belong to a five foot nothing blondie who winks at me. “Dance?” The neon lights caress the dance floor and I look around to find Dahlia’s massive smile as she laughs with her dance partners.

For my sanity, and since I have zero claim to Dahlia, I nod my agreement and follow her to a spot near Dahlia and my newfound enemies. Maybe dancing with another woman will cure me of this affliction, crush—same thing. Blondie is certainly moving her hips in an effort to pull me in closer, but I’m too focused on the assholes rubbing on Dahlia.

By some miracle, they break apart when the beat fades out. Daphne appears with more shots, Jasper towering behind her with an expression fit for a funeral. Dahlia takes the shot before spotting me with a splitting grin. She saunters over and whispers something in Blondie’s ear. Blondie loosens her grip on me, and swings me between her and Dahlia. I hear Dahlia’s drunken laughter as she backs up even further into me, her ass pressing exactly where I’ve wished it to be all night.

My tattooed fingers snake around her hips, one settling on her soft stomach while the other anchors to her hip. Blondie is rubbing her hands up my back, smacking my ass with a giggle.

Dahlia leans back, her head fitting right under my chin, back pressed perfectly into my chest. She looks up and I see her flushed cheeks and glassy eyes. She quirks an eyebrow at me as she dances against me, testing me with every sway of her hips. This closeness to her has me biting my cheek until I taste blood.

The heat of the dance floor and thrum of the music beating in my chest has me near feral. I need to get out of this dance before I torpedo our friendship, because I’m seconds away from damning the consequences and making her mine. I know she’s tipsy and as much as I’d love to kiss her senseless, I know it’s not the time. Still, we dance for what feels like forever, her hands trailing up and down my chest as she twirls and laughs with pure joy.

The rest of the world fades away—only Dahlia and I exist in this fated moment. Blondie must’ve moved on, but I couldn’t tell you when.

SEVEN

pour decisions

Dahlia

Drunk Dahlia isin control now and she’s having a blast. All the reasons for my romantic distance from Wes have evaporated.

As we dance, I feel the tension blanket us like we’re the only two people here. His big hands trail up and down my body; my hips, my outer thighs, my stomach. As he pushes against me, I feel something hard in my lower back. I’m smug over my effect on him, because I feel the same arousal coursing through me. His beard tickles my ear as he leans down to whisper in my ear we should drink some water.

Wes turns me in his arms so now my chest is pressed against him and I don’t miss the way my nipples pebble at the contact. I feel so tiny compared to him, it’s hot as fuck. He brushes a hair behind my ear before taking me by the hand and leading me out of the crowd.

While we prop up at the bar for hydration, I notice Jasper trailing behind Daphne. Sober me would question his motives, but present, drunk me wants to climb Wesley like a tree. My stomach rumbles so I drop some not-so-subtle hints I need discofries ASAP. Everyone nods in agreement and soon we’re spilling out onto the sidewalk outside.

Daphne and I link arms and sway in the moonlight as we march to our favorite late night spot, Moon Palace. A diner that has seen many a heartbreak, drunken gyro feast, and plenty of post-dancing disco fries.

I’m still at the fun level of drunk where everything is bright and silly, and my anxiety is non-existent. This emboldened version of me decides to sit on Wes’ side of the booth, completely gone to all the reasons why I told Daphne I was keeping my distance. She and Jasper sit opposite us. Jasper appears to be fantasizing about jamming a fork into his eye. Mine and Wes’ thighs are touching.

His big, strong manly thighs.

Drunk Dahlia is also apparently a lustful lady because I’m fantasizing about Wes’ thighs as he orders a burger. What would they look like if he perched me on them as he pounded into me? Oooh, what about dry humping?

In this moment, it seems so very foolish to insist on being just friends. He’s so fine, rugged looking too—all broad chest and from what I felt on the dance floor, a hard lined body. Don’t get me started on his tattoos, his body is seemingly covered. I’m staring at his hands, picturing them wrapped around my neck, lining my throat with the words hell bent collaring me, when Daphne’s fingers wave in front of me.

“Dude, it’s your turn. We’re ordering.”Oh nooooo. I suppose drunk Dahlia isn’t a great multitasker.

I lick my lips in an attempt to clear my sexy-hands-induced haze and end up ordering a cheeseburger. Daphne narrows her eyes at me and at Wes before launching into a tirade of the sluttiest shots one can order at a bar. Jasper looks like he may grind his molars into dust at her mention of slippery nipples.And now I’m visualizing Wes’ nips.

Wes leans in. “I thought you wanted fries?” My mouth forms an O and I realize I let this man’s sexy fingers distract me from my post-dancing prize. With a look of understanding, Wes leaves the booth to put in an extra order fries. I’m stunned silent when Wes looks over with a soft smile, and I know I’m so fucked.