Emerald Flight: Wildest Dreams (continued)

Something jabbed her lightly in the ribs and Jenna nearly spilled her drink. She spun her head, ready to at least glare at the inconsiderate jerk, more if he seemed unrepentant. Instead, she found Mauri studying her quizzically.

“Hey, Jen,” she said. “You sure were in la-la land there.”

Jenna gave her a quick smile.

Mauri was dressed in a perfectly form-fitting dark dress. It was a perfect complement to her waist-length waves of dark hair and tropically-tanned skin. Slightly shorter than Jenna, what she lacked in height, she made up in enthusiasm and her ample curves. Jenna had rarely known her to go home alone. Actually, she knew of a few instances where she had not even made it home. Mauri had revealed to her at least two times when she and her pickup had sacked it out in the parking lot.

“Sorry,” Jenna said. “I was trying not to watch the rooster rutting ritual.” She nodded slightly toward the end of bar where the bartender was once again talking with the red-headed man.

Mauri glanced that way and then turned back to Jenna, giggling.

Jenna’s expression remained fixed.

One of Mauri’s eyebrows rose. “You have something against two guys having it?”

Jenna shuddered.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Jenna looked toward Mauri without actually looking at her.

“I can handle two guys making out . . . mostly,” she managed. “But the thought of two of them sacking it together . . .“ She grimaced.

Mauri looked back down the bar for a moment, studied the scene, and then shrugged—an act that caused her fully rounded breasts to wiggle noticeably.

“Neither of them’s my type anyway,” she said, grinning.

She then looked around the room, searching for someone you might be heading in their direction. “You aren’t soloing it tonight, are you?”

Jenna shook her head. “Nah, I’m waiting for someone.”

Mauri eyebrows rose slightly. “Someone new?”

“Yeah,” Jenna answered, hoping to sound non-committal.

Mauri’s eyes conducted a quick survey of Jenna’s outfit and makeup. Her lips pursed slightly, but she nodded in general approval.

“You hoping to sack him tonight?”

Gods, I hope so. Again. Jenna answered silently. And I’m certainly not going to tell you that I already did.

Jenna shrugged, taking a small sip of her drink. “Maybe.”

“Do I know him?” Mauri persisted. Her eyebrows worked an exaggerated leer. “And does he have a brother?”

“No,” Jenna answered evenly. “And yes. And you probably already know him.”

It was a safe bet that Mauri had at least heard of him—if not actually had sex with him. Thad Raynes was a fixture at most of the local clubs. It was a rare woman who did not know his reputation; most of them did not care.

Jenna was saved from having to evade what she knew Mauri’s next question would be by the appearance of a smoothly-muscled man in dark pants and a medium-tinted shirt—and one of the last people Jenna wanted to see tonight. She could see it in Mauri’s face as well.

“Jen!” he called out.

Although it was only one syllable, he managed to slur it. That Jenna that he had already been busy keeping the bar in business—probably by mooching drinks off his friends. She put her own drink onto the bar, wanting to keep both hands free.

“Hey, Mahi-Mahi,” he said to Mauri as he reached them.

Jenna knew that Mauri hated the nickname. She also knew how Mauri had earned it, which did not improve her friend’s opinion of it being used aloud in public.

“Greg.” Jenna addressed him icily.

He smiled at her. The bright line of his teeth reminded her of a shark—an analogy that just a little too apt. Her chilly reception apparently did nothing to cool down his approach.

“Got a kiss for me?” He grinned at her.

Jenna stared at him. She tried to maintain her control and not react further, but some underlying impulse got the better of her.

“Go to hell.”

Greg laughed. He was apparently accustomed to similar responses, particularly from her after they had separated.

“Been there,” he said. “I was with you once.”

Jenna supposed that might have hurt if she did not already understand what a total jerk he was. Mauri’s eyes, however, went wide and she uttered a barely audible gasp.

“Greg,” Jenna said calmly. “Go away. Now.” She took a short breath. “Go find some nice underage emo girl to terrorize.”

Greg’s predatory look now shifted into a sneer. Before Jenna could react, he had grabbed her, forcing his mouth onto hers. Somewhere in her mind, she was willing to tolerate it, to let him have his little victory so he could go away feeling like a man and leave her the hell alone. That attitude changed abruptly, however, when she felt his hands on her breasts. His fingers groped them, massaging them roughly as his thumbs pressed across her nipples.

Jenna reacted, almost without thinking. She drove her knee upward, aiming for his groin. Somehow, he managed to back away at the last moment. She was able to compensate, though, enough to connect with sharply with his diaphragm instead.

Greg bent over, gagging for breath. He managed to stay on his feet, to Jenna’s amazement. His head turned upward and fury burned through his eyes at her. Jenna did not care. He was not going to be making any more sudden movements for a while, and she was certain that their little altercation had gotten the attention of the bouncers.

Glancing around, she saw Mauri staring at the scene in wide-eyed disbelief. She looked further into the room, checking to see if anyone was coming to her rescue or whether it might be better for her to just make a run for it before Greg recovered enough to follow her. The face she spied at the doorway, though, was both the first and last one that she wanted to see at that moment.

Scott watched her from the doorway. His expression was a wash of surprise and hurt. Jenna realized then what he must have seen.

Oh. Shit.

She wanted to nail Greg with another kick, both for complicating her life again and because he truly did deserve. Instead, she shouted toward Scott, who was turned back toward the door.

“Scott!” she yelled, even knowing that there was no way that he could hear her over the din of the music and shouted conversations. “Wait!”

She dashed toward his departing form, pushing her way through the wandering clots of people. Some swore at her, while most stared heatedly at her. She ignored them all, unable to spare the precious moments to pause and apologize, focused on getting to the door and to Scott before he left completely.

After what seemed an interminable passage through the knots of customers, Jenna made it outside. She stopped and looked along the street. There were a short line of people waiting to get their IDs checked so they could enter, but no sign of Scott. She looked again and then watched for his car, trying to remember what it looked like, but did not find it.

Wait, she realized. I can message him. Try to explain . . .

She reached for her phone and then swore aloud, gathering a few curious glances from the people waiting in the security line. She had left it in her purse back at bar. Hopefully, she realized, Mauri was keeping an eye on it.

Muttering additional curses under her breath, along with a few promises of additional punishment to Greg if he was still at the bar, she flashed her re-entry bracelet at the bouncer and went back inside. With luck, she could reach Scott and try to salvage what was left of the evening.