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𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒏: 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆
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𝐀 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 Grace's spine. She didn't know whether this feeling that took over her guts was nervousness or relief. Maybe it even was a combination of both. His piercing blue eyes seemed to stab through her, wandering over every bit of exposed skin the dress did not cover. His brow was furrowed, his cheek sucked in on one side. Since the last time she'd seen him a few days ago at Starbucks, his stubble seemed to have magically transformed into a fully-grown beard. 

The thought of how it would feel on her palms, between her thighs, flashed into her mind before she got pulled back to reality as someone bumped into her, one hand jolting to her waist for support, making her entire body tense up instantly.

"Sorry," a tall guy with dimples apologized before his gaze dropped to the young woman's appearance with a slight smirk. Suddenly, she felt overly exposed. Her dress was too short on all ends, and she cleared her throat, turning away from the stranger quickly, hushing toward the thick, red curtains that led to the bathrooms. The surprise had sobered her up a little, and her thoughts became much, much clearer again.

"Fuck," she muttered under her breath, her heart rapidly pounding against her ribcage as if begging to get out. Her skin burned, she had the urge to pull her skirt down and neckline up at the same time. How did a single moment burn her confidence to ashes?

"Wait," a low voice buzzed over the chatting and the music that surrounded her, and she held her breath as she instantly recognized the voice. He'd followed her. Slowly, she turned around, her face beet-red, her hair an untamed mess, her hands clammy. As harsh as his face looked, the crease between his brows ever so prominent, the soft expression that lay in his ocean eyes had a reassuring effect on the nervous girl.

"Professor," she choked out from a dry throat, making way for a group of loudly laughing girls in short mini skirts and cropped sequin tops. But his gaze remained on her like it was glued in place, his eyes flicking over her concerned face and the exposed skin of her torso. He swallowed heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in a mesmerizing way.

"Could I possibly talk to you for a second?" he asked in a very steady, professional-sounding voice that left Grace startled. She quickly nodded, and in one swift move, James pushed the "Staff Only." door open and pulled Grace into the dimly lit hallway behind it without any of the other guests seeming to notice. When the door fell shut behind him, he groaned, leaned against it, and looked down at her while one palm ran across his face in despair.

"Jesus Christ, Grace," he sighed. Then, silence took over the room. Nervously, Grace looked around, noticing two more doors that were labeled "Supply Closet" and "Storage". She took a deep breath and let her green eyes find his tense face in the gloominess.

"Why are you even here again," she asked hesitantly, trying to not sound like she didn't want him to be at the bar. His tongue slid across his teeth, the bulge traveling from left to right of his mouth before he spoke.

"The owner is an old friend," he simply said, one hand adjusting the ring on his thumb. Grace felt her heartbeat in her throat. The tension was sizzling, but she didn't know with what exactly. Was it anger? Arousal? She wasn't sure of it. And the way he stared at her didn't leave her able to think logically at all.

"Enough of me," he eventually growled, pushing himself off the wood behind him. He took two steps in her direction, leaving him less than two feet away. The young woman tilted her head up to be able to look into his eyes, attempting to find what expression now lay in them. His pupils had taken over most of them, leaving only a thin ring of darkened blue around them.

"This... guy touched you," he grunted angrily, but she knew it wasn't directed at her but rather at the stranger with the dimples. She nodded. One hand drifted to the curve of her waist, just where the guy had rested his hand earlier. But his touch now sent tingles over her skin, even through the fabric.

"I wanted to rip his hand right off him," James admitted quietly, his raspy tone reverberating in Grace's ears in the most heavenly way, "Are you alright?"

"Yes," she stuttered in surprise, her lower stomach clenching. "Don't worry about it."

"I want to be the only guy who gets to touch you the way he did, Grace."

"Mhm," was all she managed to let out of her mouth. She felt the cold wall behind her back, and just then realized how he'd gently nudged her in that direction. Her eyes were fixated on his oh-so-delicious lips, and she realized just how bad she wanted to feel them on her. Everywhere.

"And shit, you look so fucking good in that dress. So. Fucking. Gorgeous," he stated, his forehead basically touching hers, their noses brushing against each other. She could feel his hot breath on her own lips that now tingled in a desperate need to touch his.

"Why thank you," she breathed, her eyes glossy, her lips aching to be kissed.

"The problem is," James carried on quietly, "that other guys get carried away easily. They don't know how to treat such an attractive woman right just because her dress ends mid-thigh."

"And you do?" Grace muttered in a teasing tone, but her voice was so faint it broke. Mr. Barnes huffed, a larger puff of exhale landing on her lips.

"Oh, I thought I already gave you a taste of that," he whispered, and the blonde let out a whimper in response. She was melting underneath his touch, her guts turning into a tingling, burning heat. Oh, how badly she wanted him right now... She nudged her face forward, and for a brief moment, her lips touched his, soft and faint like butterfly wings, almost not tactile, until he pulled away, just far enough to break up the contact.

"Which is why I'm not going to take you against this wall, no matter how badly I want it right now."

Grace's stomach flipped upside down. The strong bass of the music outside the door vibrated through the floor up into her feet, and her breath hitched in her throat as he tried to inhale. She pressed her lips together. Now she knew what expression she saw in his eyes. Neither anger nor arousal—it was a combination of both. She squirmed as she felt his left hand mirror the actions of his right, holding her body by her hips gently, her shoulder blades and ass pressed against the drywall behind her.

"James—" she began, attempting to try and convince him to throw that plan of his overboard, but he shut her up with the long-awaited kiss she'd yearned for. Relieved, she groaned against him, her hands finally finding out how his beard felt on the soft skin of her palms. It was slightly scratchy, but it felt so insanely good. The kiss quickly turned passionate, feverish, needy.

"Jesus Christ, Grace," he mumbled, trying to bring himself to pull away, "We have to get out of here. Now. I need all of you all for myself."

"Just a small issue... What about my friends," she uttered, her tongue heavy with need. He shrugged.

"Tell them you're not feeling well," he suggested in a raspy voice, "Tell them you'll go home early. I'll wait outside and smoke one, and when we're at my apartment, I will finally fuck you the way I always wanted to. Does that sound like a deal, Sweetheart?"

Grace could only nod. She'd only felt out of place with the two flirting pairs anyway, no matter how hard she'd tried to convince herself she didn't. And just like that, she had a new plan for the night.

A much better plan.

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♡𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒐𝒕𝒆♡