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Chapter 9

Bellamy shrugged out of his leather jacket and folded it over his arm, making sure that it covered his throbbing erection.

He all but sprinted to the bathroom, weaving in and out of the crowds of dancers.

“Fuck,” Bellamy stared at the 3 bathroom doors before him. “Which one did she go in?”

Just as he was contemplating which door to try first, a slender hand shot out of the middle door, dragging him in by his t-shirt.

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