|Book One of Disaster Series|
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❝Please stop doing this,❞ Ridge whispers, resting his forehead on my shoulder blade, his breath hitting my skin, chills coursing through my veins, seeping deep into my bones. The look in his eyes, the hunger and the...
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The strong smell of alcohol fills my nostrils.
"Come on, let's go," Erica shouts enthusiastically, dragging me towards the entrance of the mansion. When Ridge said that Austin throws one of the best parties, he definitely wasn't kidding. I can hear the music playing, very loud and clear even from a good distance. Red cups are scattered all over the floor, people are making out in every corner, having the time of their life. Rihanna's S&M plays in the background.
"Erica, slowdown. I'm wearing heels, not running shoes," I yell, loud enough to catch her attention. I love wearing heels, no doubt in that, but not when I have to run like this.
"Oops. Sorry. I got carried away," she giggles, looking at me sheepishly. Her eyes roam around the house, which is filled with people dancing and playing beer pong and other such games. The red disco lights illuminate the dance floor which is throbbing under my feet.
"Found them," She whoops, dragging me to another direction, again. When she stops, I see what she was talking about. Bruce, Eric, Ashton and Trish are already here, with red cups in their hand. Erica leaves my hand and runs towards her boyfriend, latching onto him like a Koala.
"Lydia!" Bruce exclaims, wrapping me up in a hug, squeezing me right, "So happy to see you here."
He removes me from his hold and shoves the red cup in my face. "Here, some alcohol for the new girl."
"What's in this?" I ask, looking at the liquid curiously.
"Vodka and coke," he tells me, running off to the kitchen, I guess.
"Hey girl. You look smokin' hot," Trish comments, wrapping her arms around me in a hug.
"Me? Look at you." I grin, holding her at arm's length. "I'm sure Bruce is gonna find it really difficult to keep it in his pants tonight." She's wearing a white bralette top with black mini skirt, her blond hair pin straight. I notice that she's wearing contacts instead of her spectacles.
"Fuck you, Lydia Herrington," She curses, hitting me on the arm, but she blushes nonetheless. "I don't like Bruce like that. Neither does he. He's the most infuriating person on this planet."
"Whatever floats your boat," Eric retorts, putting one arm around mine and one arm around Trish's shoulder. "Everyone knows that you guys love each other."
She elbows him in the stomach. "Go share spit with your girlfriend or something. Stop irritating us."
"I cannot. She's not here yet." He frowns. Taking his phone out when he sees that it's ringing, he gestures us to go further, saying, "It's my girlfriend. She's here. Gotta go share spit guys. See you later."
And then, he's out of sight.
"Come on, let's dance." She shouts at the top of her lungs, dragging me to the dance floor
