Nightbloom (6 page)

He held open the flap for me. I stood there a second in a stupor. He hissed out another frustrated breath. “Come on, Ella. I know you’re not comfortable here, so let’s go somewhere else.”

His words were kind, but his tone held such a belittling edge that tears pricked behind my eyes. What was wrong with me that I didn’t want my boyfriend touching me? I bit my lip, forcing my tears back, and hurried to the car.

He blared the radio and drove like a bat out of hell all the way to the Morgon district. My mind replayed the scene over and over.
This
was the special occasion? Popping my cherry? Somehow, that’s not how I imagined it would be. Romantic candles and music or not, it didn’t feel right. I didn’t want…him.

Clayton parked a block away from Spire Maiden, the hottest new club in town. It also happened to be Sorcha’s pride and joy for two reasons. One, she was chosen as the marketing consultant for the place. And two, it was the project that brought her and Lorian together. Why couldn’t I be like Sorcha? I used to accept Clayton’s affection, feeling grateful that he wanted me. Now, I was repulsed by it.

Once parked, I had to jog to catch up to him. He was punishing me for shunning his attentions, not seeming to care if I fell behind.

I nodded to Kraven at the door whose eyes lingered, probably remembering me from the after-party from last week’s game. Dance music pulsed loud and hard. I followed Clayton to the elevator to the right of the dance floor. A human couple joined us, hanging all over each other in the corner. The girl giggled. I glanced at Clayton, who glared accusingly at me. Guilt hung heavy on my shoulders. We stepped out on the third floor.

As soon as we rounded the corner to the bar area, I sighed with relief. Sorcha sat in a plush lounge, laughing at something a silver-winged Morgon girl was saying. As I made my way toward her, I saw Corbin Rowanflame hanging with some friends at the bar. My heart stopped. One of them was
him
.

As if he sensed my presence, Paxon found me. Clayton ambled toward the bar while I stood frozen to the spot. My pulse sped up with nothing more than a look from the man, but an unwavering, intense, heated look will do that to a girl. I found Sorcha on a couch belting out her throaty laugh. Lifting my chin, I strode forward and pretended my knees weren’t shaking as he watched me cross the room to Sorcha.

“Hey, girl!” she screamed, opening her arms for a hug.

“Hey.”

I squished in between her and the Morgon.

“What happened to you? You look like your grandmother just died.”

“Nothing.” I shook my head, forcing a fake smile and glancing at the pretty Morgon on my other side.

“Oh, Willow, this is Ella Barrow. The pretty one who dates the prick I keep telling you about.”

“Sorcha,” I said in my warning tone, though my heart just wasn’t in it.

“Hi,” said Willow. “You want a drink?” She waved a buxom cocktail waitress over.

The waitress trudged toward us, pasting a fake smile on her face. Man, did I know how that felt.

“Hello. What can I get you?”

“Hi, Deva.” Willow pointed at her glass. “I’d like another one of these. What is it again, Sorcha?”

“Brevette on the rocks. I’d like one, too. Just water for my friend.”

The waitress with dark-green wings snubbed her nose at me and prissed off.

“What’s wrong with her?” I asked.

Sorcha laughed. “Oh, that bitch hates me. I think she had a thing for Lorian before I came along, and she somehow thought she had a chance with him. As if.”

Willow laughed, a pretty, tinkling sound. “She probably sensed you were his mate, and it pissed her off.”

I raised a brow. “How do you mean she
sensed
Sorcha was Lorian’s mate?”

Willow looked puzzled.

Sorcha sighed. “I’ll explain it. My friend is a little uneducated about Morgon gifts.”

Willow grinned. “So were you once.”

She arched a brow seductively. “Not anymore. Ella, it’s just that Morgon men have some sort of sixth sense, something of the dragon in them that helps them find their one mate.”

“But, how? I don’t understand.”

“It’s the soulfire.” Willow sipped her drink, her eyes alight with wonder. “This is a mystery even for Morgon women. We don’t have this ability. Soulfire builds within the man as soon as he meets her or as soon as the dragon recognizes her as his own. It continues to grow stronger, burning in his core, until his mate accepts him so he can release the elixir into her.”

I shifted in my seat to face Willow better. “And then the heartbinding.”

She nodded with a smile.

“And damn if it isn’t the hottest thing ever.” Sorcha winked. “Lorian’s already sex-on-a-stick. Soulfire just makes him downright unfair. I can’t ever resist him.”

I rolled my eyes. “Ugh. Too much information. No need to brag about your amazing sex life.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Where’s Lorian tonight, anyway?”

“Something work-related with his father. I wanted to check things out here and see if our place was still hopping.”

“It’s still hopping.” Willow laughed, clinking her nearly empty glass to Sorcha’s.

“Where’s Clayton?” asked Sorcha.

“Oh, he’s over there.” I waved my hand.

“Well, come on. Let’s join the men and have some real fun.”

She linked her arm with mine, hauled me up, and led the way. With every step I took toward
him
, adrenaline pumped through my veins, my blood coursing faster. The group of men stirred at our approach, swiveling their attention in our direction.

“Hey, Clayton.” Sorcha clapped him on the back. I knew she was being overly civil to him because she made me a promise to do so. At the moment, I couldn’t care less after the way he had treated me tonight.

He turned and gave her one of his dimpled grins. “Hi, beautiful. You slumming with the singles tonight?”

“Just checking on my baby, Spire Maiden. She seems to be doing just fine without me.”

I listened to the interaction, my eyes on Sorcha.

He
was watching me. I finally braved a glance. A glass of amber liquor was poised at his lips. His black hair hooded deep, brown eyes. Yes. He watched me shamelessly, not bothering to look away, as if it were his right to look his fill, as if there were no one else here but us. Still in his business best, the top few buttons of his starched, silver shirt were undone, drawing my eye to the
V
of tan skin. I flinched when the waitress nudged me, like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

She passed out our drinks, handing me a glass of water last. Clayton chuckled.

“Water, Ella? You sure you don’t want something a little stronger. It might loosen you up.”

To everyone else, it was a harmless joke, but I saw his face tighten, the ice in his eyes. The buxom waitress grinned before swishing off, as if she caught the dig at my expense. Clayton sauntered away, clapping Slade on the shoulder. Corbin wrangled Sorcha and Willow over for shots. But I didn’t move. I was left standing there.

Alone.

Looking at him.

Unable to look anywhere else.

He shoved off the bar, his wings pressed tight to his back, heading straight for me.

“Good evening, Ella.”

That velvety voice buckled my knees. I stood firm. “Hi, um. Hello.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“Dance? Well…” I scanned the room. No sign of Clayton.

“It’s just a dance.” He held out a hand.

“Right. Sure.” I put my hand in his.

He wound past the lounge section around the corner. He pulled out his comm device and punched something in one-handed before sliding it back into his pants pocket. I thought we’d head downstairs, but he pulled me past the elevator to a nook with a few booths and a small dance floor. A more private dance floor.

Just as we arrived, the fast-pumping song died, and a slow, haunting melody echoed around us. He pulled me into his arms, charming smile in place.

“Did you do this?” I pointed toward the speakers.

“Build this place? No. Wasn’t me. This is my cousin’s gig.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. The music.”

He chuckled and pulled me into a tighter embrace. With one hand on my waist, he held me close but not too close, swaying me gently. “I prefer slow songs.”

“I bet you do,” I mumbled.

His shoulder flexed under my fingers, making me more aware of his body, his strength. I slid my hand to his bicep, loving the sensation of his cotton-silk blend under my palms. I averted my gaze to nowhere in particular, pretending the feel of him had no effect on me.

He spun me slowly to the easy beat. His hand slid to the small of my back. I remembered the last time he touched me there. My breath quickened.

“Ella?”

“Hmm?” Still not meeting his gaze.

“Why are you with Clayton Kerrington?”

That got my attention. “What?”

“Why are you with him?”

Was he serious? Do people really ask things like that?

“He’s…he’s a good guy. Um, you know, he’s—”

“He’s not a good guy.” The expression that hardened Paxon’s face made me shiver. “So what’s the real reason?”

Anger flared in my gut. “Why are you asking me this? It’s kind of personal.”

“I don’t think so. All I want to know is why you’re with someone like him.”

I frowned. “What do you mean ‘someone like him’?”

“He’s arrogant, selfish, and has no idea what he has in having you.”

Blushing, I perked up my chin. “How do you know what he thinks?”

“Because if you were mine, I wouldn’t wander off and leave you unattended.”

If I were his?
Again, he insinuated he wanted me. The idea of being his girl, his woman, sent my nerves into overdrive.

His hand on my back pressed me the slightest bit closer. My body responded, bending for him, wanting him. My eyes dropped to his lips.

This was ridiculous. I wasn’t a cheater. The last kiss was a “prize.” Or at least, that’s what I had told myself. If I crossed that line now, I couldn’t forgive myself, and yet my control was slipping away.

I broke free from his grasp. “I-I’m sorry. I need to—” I pointed back the way we came and rushed off as fast as I could. I walked clear past the bar and down the hallway to the bathroom. After splashing water on my cheeks, I stared at my reflection.

What did he see?

I saw the same blond-haired, blue-eyed girl who lived in a shell inside her own head. Pretty, yes. Docile, yes. Weak…yes. I tossed the paper towel in the trash and headed back out.

Passing an
Employees Only
door, I heard feminine mewling and panting sounds. I walked on quickly but stopped when I heard a familiar voice. “You’re so fucking hot.”

Blood rushed like ice through my veins. Heart pounding in my throat, I slowly stepped back to the door and eased it open. I froze.

Topless and spread-eagle on a countertop was the cocktail waitress, Deva, her skirt hiked up to her hips. Her large breasts bounced with each thrust as Clayton, pants around his ankles, grunted and pounded into her. She made throaty cries as he pushed into her fast and rough.

“That’s right, baby. Moan some more.”

She did, pulling his head down to her breast where he licked her all over like he’d done to me earlier that night. I wanted to vomit.

His voice ground out, “I’m coming, baby.”

She gripped his hair in a tight hold, catching sight of me over his shoulder, opening her mouth in a loud moan as if he had hit just the right spot. Then she gave me a wink.

Mortified, I shut the door and ran down the hall. I paused before I stepped back into the crowd, taking a deep breath to compose. Sorcha and Willow were at a table near the railing, overlooking the dance floor. I bee-lined straight for them and took a seat, anger thrumming through my whole body. Sorcha rambled on about God knows what.

“You got that right. But you should totally date a human guy. You might like it.” Sorcha turned my way. Her brow scrunched into a frown. “Hey, what happened to you?” She snapped her fingers in front of my unfocused gaze. “Hello? Ella? Are you okay?”

I couldn’t even form a word, thoughts speeding through my mind so fast my head was about to pop off. I trembled with rage. But my anger had nothing to do with Clayton. I didn’t even care that he was screwing that sleazy girl in the back room. I was furious at…at
myself
. I was furious that I’d wasted five months with this jerk, thinking myself
lucky
. Lucky? Ha!

I glanced across the bar at Paxon, now back in his spot talking to Conn, who must’ve just arrived.

Something bubbled out of me. Laughter. I threw my head back and laughed, not caring that it sounded a tad maniacal. This was a gift, a blessing. I was finally free, and there wasn’t enough charm in the world to make me forget what I just saw in the back room and change my mind.

“Ella? Seriously. You’re scaring the shit out of me. Are you okay?”

I met Sorcha’s round-eyed gaze, then took her glass of Brevette
and gulped a huge swig.

Her eyes widened further. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

I smiled, watching Clayton amble up to the group next to Corbin just as happy as can be, hair tousled, smug grin on his dumbass face. I wondered how many times he’d done this behind my back. I glanced from Clayton to Paxon. No comparison. Not in any possible way. Why was I such an idiot?

I drank down the rest of Sorcha’s drink and slammed the glass on the table.

“What in the hell are you doing, Ella?”

“Something I should’ve done a
long
time ago.” I gave her hand a squeeze and slipped off the stool.

As I crossed the room, Deva flitted past me, smirking with her shirt hanging off one shoulder. I rounded and stepped in front of her with my hand held out. She flinched as if I was going to hit her. I grabbed her hand and shook it.

“Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.” I was actually giddy with the sudden turn of events. Something that should’ve shattered my world only tore open the cage I’d put myself in. “You saved me from a lifetime of misery and shame.”

Shocked, she just stood there as I strode off toward Clayton where he was hanging with Corbin to one side. Other patrons lined the bar, ordering drinks and chatting. Paxon sat on a stool angled out toward the room, watching my approach. I stopped in front of Clayton.