Unexpected Angel (3 page)

And with that, my brain
is officially fried. “I need a drink,” is the only thing I am capable of saying.

“Already on it,”
Holly assures me, handing me a white Cosmo.
Dang, that's strong.
I resist the urge to toss it back like a shot, knowing it won’t take much at all for me to be completely drunk. I can only imagine how much fun the girls would have seeing me start to get tipsy after only a drink or two.

“I think I need to
dance,” I say once my martini glass is empty. I’m not necessarily in the mood to be on the dance floor, but I promised to keep an open mind and dancing seems a much safer option than sitting in this great unknown between normal and erotically bizarre.

“Bathroom first,”
Holly shouts, leading me to the restrooms. On our way there, I realize what the sexy stranger meant by glowing. In an effort to avoid making eye contact with anyone lest they might think I am looking for a quick hook-up, I train my eyes on the floor in front of me, allowing Holly's hand to guide me through the crowd. When we reach the hall leading to the restrooms, the black lights reflect off my pure white corset, nearly blinding me with the brightness it returns.

(Dylan)

I had no intention of coming out tonight.
This entire week has sucked and I really just wanted to chill at home. Unfortunately, I had already committed to being here, so I’m kind of stuck. To top it off, most of our group bailed early, wanting to head over to the diner for a bite to eat since it didn’t look like there would be as many depraved freaks showing up as there were other nights. I can only hope the cooler weather means less of a crowd for a few months.

Just about the time I
am ready to bail, I see an adorable blonde with killer legs waiting in line all by herself. That’s enough to catch my attention, but when I see her looking around as if she is lost, I start to get concerned. I fucking hate Leather & Lace night. It’s the night all the perverts come out to play. Yes, I’m fully aware that I would be considered one of those pervs by many people, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Me? I’m here to protect girls like her from the freaks who only think they’re anything like me.

After warning the n
ew girl to be careful, I head inside. I could tell I was making her uncomfortable as it was and didn’t want her to pull a can of pepper spray out of her pocket or anything. If it were up to me, I would have attached myself to her side. It would be fun to teach her what the lifestyle is really like.

“Dylan, where the fuck you been?” Zeke
asks when I finally manage to snake my way through the swarm of sweaty, gyrating punks.

“Had to go out for a smoke. Any problems in here?” I
pick up my glass of water, wishing it wasn’t my night to keep my eyes open. If I have to be here, I’d much rather be having a drink to unwind from all the crap that went down over the past few days.

Zeke
shakes his head. “Nope, but it’s still early. I know it brings people in, but I really wish they’d shut down the back room.”

“You kn
ow Vic won’t do that,” I snarl. We have tried talking to the owner of the club several times about shutting down the playroom. Let the posers have their leather, their lace, their dancing and whatever else, but a BDSM playroom has no place being in close proximity to alcohol. I sometimes wonder how many people wake up the next morning with welts wondering who attacked them. It’s a joke, really, to see what passes in places like this. “It’s his biggest night of the month most of the time. If he took away their chance to lose their inhibitions and let someone whip the shit out of them, no one would buy.”

“D
oesn’t make it right,” Zeke grumbles, slumping against the bar with his own water. His eyes catch someone walking through the bar. “Holy angel of fuckdom!”

“
Fuckdom? Really, Z?” I turn my head to see what, or who, making my friend and business partner make up words like a lame frat boy. As soon as I catch a glimpse of glowing white fabric out of the corner of my eye, I know exactly who he is talking about. Okay, ‘fuckdom’ is still a totally ridiculous word, but I can understand not finding the word he wants to use to describe her. “That’s Betsy. You stay away from her, Z. Stay away, but keep your eyes peeled, too. She’s fresh meat and I’m sure her outfit gives that away to the freak squad.”

“You know her?” Zeke
looks at me, obviously impressed that I know the heavenly beauty in a sea of demons. “Fuck man, how’d you get so lucky?”

I
can’t help but laugh. “Remember how you kept on me to quit smoking when you did? Let’s just say I’ve never been happier that I didn’t listen to you.” I slap him on the back as I set my empty pint glass on the bar. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a damsel to go rescue.”

“Tying her up and taking her home isn’t rescuing,
that’s kidnapping,” Zeke calls out as I twist and turn my way back across the dance floor. One of these times, someone is going to take the shit he says seriously. I am going to be in deep fucking trouble when that happens.

By the time Betsy
comes out of the bathroom, I’m starting to get some strange looks. Even though this is a night where just about anything is acceptable, apparently a six-foot six-inch bald man with bulging biceps and tattoos can’t stand outside the ladies’ room without drawing a few nervous glances. I wouldn’t be surprised if at least three of the women glaring at me have their cell phones in hand, just in case I am there to find a suitably drunk woman to take out back and fuck. It wouldn’t be the first time something like that happened here on L&L night.

(Tasha)

Just like any other club, the ladies' room
is packed. I finish before Holly and decide to wait for her in the hall rather than having drunk women fighting over the next open stall or a few square inches of counter space while they reapply thick black eyeliner jostle and shove me around. No sooner do I set foot outside the restroom door than I hear a familiar voice.

“So, I see you haven
’t run off screaming yet,” he laughs. I look up to see his dark eyes staring down at me. He has to be over six foot six, seeing as I cross the six-foot mark in these heels, and I still have to look up into his eyes.

“No
. It was close but I'm a tough girl.” I’m not about to let this arrogant man know I am a screaming hot mess on the inside, having just found out
all
of my friends are into kinky sex.

“I just bet you are,” he laughs
again. When he puts his arm around me, I’m not creeped out like I normally would be. There is something kind about his eyes; his voice is soothing. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Sorry, I don't take drin
ks from strangers.” That sounds better than telling him my friends are worried I will run into trouble if left to my own devices and I will probably catch hell for being in the hall without an escort. It’s bad enough he pegged me as a naïve, sheltered woman the first time he saw me, I see no reason to bolster that perception.

“Lucky for you I'll allow you to accompany me to the bar, where the bartender will be the one placing the drink in your beautiful hand.” I swear his smile
is so bright it glows like my corset under the black lights. If I have to guess, I would assume that he'd worn braces at some point; his teeth are that perfectly straight.

“Um...” I
am trying to stall, hoping Holly will come out of the restroom so I can let her know where I am going. “I still can't have a drink with you.”

“And that would be because...”
He shifts, crossing one foot over the other ankle. The way he’s leaning against the wall unnerves me. Again.

“I don't even know your name. This is our second conversation in less than an hour and I have no clue who you are. You could be some sort of serial killer whose name has been all over the news and I could be your next helpless victim.”

The stranger cocks his eyebrow at me and I can’t help but laugh. “Really? You're going to use the crazy serial killer excuse to not have a drink with me?”

“No, I used the
‘I don't know your name’ excuse. The serial killer bit was just an added bonus.”

Tasha, shut the heck up. Just stop talking. This man is drop dead gorgeous and wants to buy you a drink. Say thank you, follow him to the
bar, and get a drink. You know how to do this. Holly will get over it. Eventually.

“Well, that's much easier to rectify than proving I'm not a murderer stalking my next prey,” he
laughs again, this time a rich belly laugh that warms something deep inside of me. “I'm Dylan. And now, you'll need to introduce yourself because I also have issues having drinks with complete strangers.”

“Tasha,” I
say softly. “It's nice to meet you, Dylan.” His hand reaches for mine but misses when Holly pulls me away from him.

“Tasha,” she scolds
. “I thought I told you to stay close. Seriously, the first time you're here is not the time to introduce yourself to some random man. You should
never
do that here. Honestly, how hard is it to follow one simple instruction?” When she tries to push her way between Dylan and me, I move closer to him to keep her from going into this overprotective big sister mode I feel coming on. For whatever reason, it seems that Holly has a real issue with Dylan. I don’t think it’s that she doesn’t want me meeting someone in general because she’s been pushing me to start dating for a while now. No, the murderous look in her eyes tells me Dylan is definitely who the problem is as far as she’s concerned.

Dylan laughs,
running a hand across his clean-shaven head. It’s a look that is scary on many guys, just plain goofy looking on others, but on Dylan, it is one more notch on the sexy dial. “See, what did I tell you? I'm glad to know I was wrong and you're not here alone tonight.” I glare from Dylan to Holly and back to Dylan.

“Hi, I'm Dylan,” he
says, reaching past me to shake hands with Holly. Looking at him, I get the feeling he’s no fonder of Holly than she is of him. I’m beginning to feel like everyone knows everyone, except for me.

“Hi Dylan,” she
says coolly. “If you don't mind, we have friends waiting on us.” She pulls on my hand but I plant my feet firmly to the ground, no longer eager to leave Dylan since he was nice to me twice before he even knew my name.

“Where
is your group sitting?” He asks over my shoulder. I might not be in my element but their talking as if I’m not standing between them is really starting to annoy me.

“Back lounge, you can come back later if you want. Right now, I ne
ed to get her back to
her
party,” Holly sneers. I look over my shoulder to glare at Holly. She’s taking this whole “divorce party” thing a bit too far. I don’t consider much about what Holly thinks of him or vice versa, only because I know Holly can be excessively judgmental as well as being one of the hardest people I know to get along with.

“Why don't you head back? Dylan offered to buy me a drink and I'd like to
take him up on it.” I narrow my eyes on her, silently pleading for her to take the hint and leave me alone. Overall, I consider myself a pretty good judge of character and Dylan isn’t giving me any sort of creeper vibe despite whatever Holly’s problem with him is. Maybe they have seen each other here before and didn’t get along.

“You sure? I know it's a lot to take in,” she
cackles.