a dickhead to want to risk the friendship that had been forming between us. Or rather to risk getting rejected. I was a scaredy-cat. A coward. And that pissed me off more than anything else.
I hadn't been able to take my eyes off her as she danced with the biker-looking dude. People had been yelling at me, including Rose, but I couldn't bring myself to care. I had to see, had to imagine what it would be like to sway with her on the dance floor with the heat and sweat surrounding us as the bass pounded. It would be a little different than how we danced together at the hop, that was for sure.
My mind filled with images of my hands on her luscious hips as I pulled her against me. Her ass pressing against my cock, which had been painfully hard since she walked in wearing that fucking dress. The way her ass shimmered as she walked, the light reflecting off the sparkly gold sections of the dress, and the cleavage that was visible through the mesh of the top, had sent all the blood rushing to my cock faster than a vampire running from the sun.
Even now my cock ached in my pants where it was tucked into my waistband to try and hide the fact that I had a raging erection. My hand rubbed against it, trying to ease some of the tension, but unless I was actually going to jerk off at work then it wasn't going to do much.
I just wanted to feel her, to talk to her, to tell her everything that had been running around in my mind while she danced with that guy, while his hands grabbed her ass, while he whispered in her ear. It wasn't even that I was selfish and wanted her all for myself. I'd been alive long enough to know that relationships of all different kinds existed, and if she wanted the biker too then that was cool with me, so long as she was mine as well. I needed her to be mine in the worst way. Needed to bury my cock in her and show her exactly what she did to me while telling her how much I loved her, because that's what it was, I knew that now.
Fuck it.
I walked to the bathroom and shut myself in a stall, unzipped my pants and wrapped my hand around my cock. Plenty of employees had sex here, I mean everyone knew that Calluna and Landyn had hooked up at least twice in the employee room. I wasn't going to be this hard for the rest of the night when Buttercup had already left with someone else.
When my hand smoothed over my cock I wanted to groan with satisfaction. This was what I needed, only I wished it was Buttercup's pussy or mouth that was taking care of me instead of my own hand. I pumped myself faster and faster as I thought about her in that dress, but dancing with me. I imagined pushing her up against the wall, tearing her panties away and fucking her right there on the dance floor. Her moans of pleasure lost to everyone except me because of the music. Her pussy clenching around my cock as she came on me.
It was that last thought that took me over the edge in what was probably one of my fastest solo sessions ever. I cleaned up thoroughly, didn't need any shifters smelling what I'd been up to, and headed back out. Rose was hustling between patrons, slinging beers and mixed drinks and shots like the amazing bartender she was.
"Hey, sorry about that," I said as I moved back behind the bar, my hand rubbing the back of my neck as shame tingled its way up my spine.
"You're fine. It happens, just do us all a favor and deal with that shit. You both deserve better than you hiding in the backroom being pissed that she left with someone else," Rose said as she shook up a cocktail.
"That obvious, huh?" I asked, as I moved to take a patron's order.
"Just a little, Logan, just a little," she said with a laugh. It wasn't mean or directed at me, more like recognizing what had happened and remembering her days of confusion with the Whitaker brothers. She was right though. Sulking in the backroom and getting myself off in the bathroom wasn't going to solve any problems. I needed to talk to Buttercup.
7
Buttercup
"A demon?"