Page 73 of Lured By Shadows

Carter blinked, surprise flashing across his face before amusement settled in.

“Right,” he laughed. “I clock ya, American girl.”

“What, were you expecting me to be conservative?” I asked, tilting my head.

He scratched his cheek, eyes flicking around the room before settling back on me.

“Not sure what I was expectin’, t’ be honest. Maybe a bit bashful, eh?”

A quiet laugh escaped me. “We’re all different, Carter, but I’m not shy about things I want.”

Another drink magically appeared in my hand from somewhere in the crowd. I downed that one too.

“Keep ’em coming,” I added. “Though fair warning, I’ll probably be drunk before you know it.”

His grin widened beneath the strobe lights. “A drunk Ira’s a proper Ira.”

The night unraveled fast after that.

Drink after drink blurred the edges of everything until sound and color melted together into one hazy rush. Eventually, we ended up pressed together near the corner of the room, bodies moving against the heavy pulse of the music. His hands gripped my waist, guiding me back against him with shameless intent while the hard outline of his cock pressed through denim into my lower back.

I let my head fall against his shoulder, a soft sigh slipping free as his mouth found the curve of my neck. He wasn’t gentle about it either. His lips moved wet and hungry against my skin with the sort of urgency that didn’t bother asking permission first. His hands slid beneath my top, boldly cupping my breasts while his thumbs brushed over my nipples until they hardened beneath his touch.

The sensation sent heat spiraling low through my stomach. I moaned softly, fingers tangling into his hair as I tilted my face toward his.

“Wanna take this somewhere else?” I whispered, words slurring slightly beneath the mix of alcohol, boldness, and the sharp thrill of being wanted so openly.

Instead of answering right away, he pressed closer, grinding into me while his breath heated the side of my neck. Music blurred beneath the crush of bodies and bass shaking the walls. My pulse kept pace with it: messy, quick, reckless from liquor and adrenaline. For one suspended moment, it genuinely felt like he might drag me into the nearest bathroom or empty bedroom and fuck me against the wall without hesitation, my body already reacting to the possibility of quick, dirty release strong enough to wipe my thoughts clean for a little while.

Then everything shifted.

A group of girls swept into the room, glittering and loud enough to slice straight through the haze Carter and I had built around ourselves. Their laughter cut through the music while I felt Carter tense behind me before I fully understood why. His hands stilled against my body, and his gaze flicked sideways, quick and guilty, as if someone had just caught him doing something he wasn’t supposed to.

I didn’t need an introduction to know exactly who they were.

Girls like that didn’t simply enter rooms. They arrived like they already owned the place. The one leading the group was tall with smooth, straight hair and eyes already narrowed in my direction, marking her as the obvious center of attention without needing to speak first. Whether she’d earned that position or simply claimed it didn’t matter. The way the others moved around her made it obvious they were a unit, sharp-edged and loyal in the vicious sort of way girls sometimes became together.

Their eyes found Carter. They weren’t surprised or curious. Just… knowing.

The sort of familiarity that smelled like sex and unfinished business, the heavy mix of past nights and tangled sheets lingering in the air between them.

I shifted my weight back into him, grinding my ass into the hard length pressed against me, letting the friction spark heat low between my thighs. If they wanted to stare, then fine. Let them watch. I knew exactly the kind of show that lingered in people’s heads long after the music stopped.

Still, even while I leaned into him and played along with the moment, I already understood what Carter really was. Not some complicated mystery wrapped in secrets and intensity. Just a common kind of temptation. Easy to read. Easy to touch. Easy to lose myself in for a few hours without pretending it meant more than that.

And maybe that was the point.

I wasn’t looking for promises or feelings deep enough to hurt me later. I just wanted something loud enough to drown out Culver lingering in the back of my mind. Every touch from Carter felt rebellious, a temporary distraction.

“Cart, I thought you were spending time with me tonight.”

Her voice sliced cleanly through the music, sweet enough to rot teeth. She sauntered forward like every movement had been rehearsed beforehand, hips swaying with polished confidence. Dark glossy hair spilled down her back while the look in her eyes screamed she’d absolutely ridden him somewhere in this house before.

Carter’s hand slid hard against my stomach, pulling me flush against him like he needed to make a statement without using words. His cock strained visibly beneath the denim between us, throbbing against me while tension crept into his posture.

“Bree,” he said evenly, though the strain underneath it didn’t escape me. “Can’t ya see I’m tied up tonight?”

His other hand drifted lower, fingers brushing the hem of my skirt without fully slipping beneath it. The contact sent another pulse of heat through me, but the tension underneath his touch set off quieter alarms in my head.