What is wrong with me?
The question didn’t stop me from putting my arms around his neck and swaying against him, letting my body brush and press into the hardness of his. He hadn’t spoken a single word and in truth, I didn’t want to talk. I just wanted to dance, to lose myself in the music with a gorgeous guy and forget who and where I was.
His lips danced over my ear as he murmured, “And to think I thought this party would be boring.” His fingers tightened reflexively at the small of my back.
I grinned along his jaw, close to his ear so he would hear me, and said, “The party is just starting.” My fingers slipped into his as I pulled back, staring him in the eye. The look I saw sparkling there sent a shooting star of lust through me.
This guy was wicked… wickedly bad, not someone I should probably toy with, but I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted danger and recklessness.
But that wasn’t all I wanted.
The dance floor grew crowded, so I led Dreamy Eyes out of the reception room, snatching a pair of champagne flutes on the way. In the common room, the double doors drowning out the music behind us, I clinked my glass to his.To random hookups with hot guys,I toasted in my head right before I drained my glass.
He followed, tossing his back like he majored in drinking. Grinning, I gave into my earlier temptation, grabbing the end of his tie and tugging him into one of the other rooms. I stumbled once or twice along the way. The room was a lounge with a big picture window of the gardens where fireflies danced through the flowers. A quick scan revealed that it was empty.
Perfect.
The door clicked shut behind him, and I lifted up on my toes, twining my fingers around his neck. “You have incredible lips. And eyes,” I added, rambling thanks to the boost of liquid courage. “In fact, everything about you is pretty incredible.”
“Is that so?” he replied, bemused. “Let me take that,” he offered in a husky voice that had me trembling. He took my glass, setting his and mine on a little round table just to the right of the door. His hands came to rest at the side of my hips, and heat seeped through my dress. Something in his touch was possessive.
“Thanks,” I replied, my teeth grazing along his jaw. I had to keep touching him. I was desperate to feel those glorious lips on mine.
He seemed to read my mind, leaning down to brush his lips across mine in a teasing kiss. I let out a soft moan and tilted my head to give him better access. He chuckled at the invitation, a deep, raspy sound laced with an arrogance that turned me on even more.
But I wasn’t in the mood to play. I wanted the pleasure of his lips, so I closed the very minuscule distance between us and fused our mouths. Parting my lips, I glided my tongue across his teeth, waiting for him to give me what I desired.
At the first contact of his tongue darting between my lips to touch mine, I shuddered.
My eyes closed, and I let my body take over.
With his lips on mine, he started to guide me across the room, but kissing and walking were proving to be difficult. My feet got tangled together, and I stumbled into him. A giggle escaped my lips, breaking the kiss momentarily. I kicked aside my shoes, hands clasping his shoulders for stability. Once the heels were gone, he lifted me, and I wrapped my legs around him. Good thing, because my weak knees were about to give out on me. It was so much easier being carried to the leather couch and allowing my lips to explore every angle of his face.
He sank us into the plush couch, and I straddled him. A low-lit electric fireplace nestled into the wall in front of the couch, the flames flickering and dancing in the dim room. Neither of us had bothered with the lights.
The truth was, I had no intention of ever seeing Dreamy Eyes again. Tonight I only wanted one thing from him. To forget where I was—who I now was. I just wanted to lose myself in the pleasure his body offered.
Pressing tightly against him, my arms wound around his neck so I could tangle my fingers into his mess of silky, dark hair.
“What’s your name, Firefly?” he murmured as those glorious lips cruised down the column of my neck.
My stomach fluttered at the nickname. How very appropriate, since the room seemed to be surrounded with fireflies prancing in the gardens. “Names aren’t important,” I replied, sinking my hands into his hair and pulling his mouth back to mine, successfully silencing any more questions. But soon kissing wasn’t enough. “I need you.”
His eyes darkened, like a turbulent storm. His fingers slid the thin straps of my black dress over my shoulders, all the while watching me with those intense eyes. His brow lifted in a silent question.Are you sure?
I bit my lip and nodded.Hell, yes.
He sealed our mouths together in a kiss born of desperate hunger. I heard the zipper undo along my spine, felt the silky material of my dress fell to my waist. The warmth from the fireplace, from his body, and my desire kept my skin blazing hot, despite the exposure.
Holy shit.
I am doing this.
My first one-night stand.
I don’t know what this guy saw in me, didn’t care in the heat of the moment, but it was a question that would haunt me days after when I remembered the feel of his lips on mine—tasted him on my tongue.
He handed me a condom, which I quickly unwrapped and slipped over him, my fingers lingering. His kiss grew more demanding, his hands more urgent on my body, and yet I met him touch for touch, often the one pushing harder, faster. I couldn’t seem to get enough from him. His fingers cupped my breast, squeezing before brushing gently over my nipple.