“I saw,” he sighs. “She’s out with her friends. Give the woman a break.”
Nevertheless, the whole glass? It’s irresponsible. She needs some water. “Watch her a second,” I order, taking only two steps towards the bar before I stop dead in my tracks. My ears prick up.
“Oh no,” Drew says over a laugh. “Don’t do it. You’ll scare her away andneverget her back.”
I pout as Justin Timberlake fills the bar and, damn, if it isn’t my favorite track. “What are you talking about? I’m an amazing dancer.” Scare her away? Fair enough, I’m usually ten sheets to the wind whenever I take to the dance floor, but since everyone keeps calling me uptight these days, perhaps I should flatten that stupid claim once and for all. I am not uptight. I’m in love.
I divert toward the dance floor as Sam, grinning, takes Ava’s shoulders and turns her toward me. When she spots me, she looks wary, her body slowing until she’s motionless. That dress. Fucking hell, that dress. I loathe it and love it.
I get up close to her, hauling her up my body. “You’re going to get a lot of men dropped if you keep dancing like that,” I tell her, forcing myself to keep my eyes on her and not the endless men appreciating what’s mine. “You like a bit of JT?”
“Yes.” She can hardly get her words out, and it makes me smile, wide and bright.
“Me too.” I slam my mouth on hers, making a point to all watching, before releasing her and spinning her on the spot. Her face is a picture.Yes, I’m doing this. In public.I haul her back into me and drop my mouth to her ear. “And it’s the extended version.”
She has no idea what to make of this, looking between me and Sam, as if he will confirm what’s about to go down. She’d never guess. But before I can demonstrate how fucking amazing I am on the dance floor, she’s trumped me, throwing the surprise back at me, slipping down my body to the point I’m pretty sure that fucking dress is riding up her arse. But it’s easy to disregard when she’s looking up at me like she is, sex written all over her face. Looking atme. I’m going to take her in every way imaginable, fuck her until she promises to never leave me. This look. I want it every day. Minus the drink.
She starts slowly rising, and I fold at the waist when her nose traces the fly of my jeans.Shit. What’s she playing at? I grab her and drag her up before I relent to my mind’s demand to fuck her here and now with an audience. “I should bend you over here and fuck you until you scream.” My body is alive, my mind clear, my heart pounding. “That dress is absurd.” I spin her out and do the unthinkable. I dance. Sober. In a fucking bar in central London, I dance. What is she doing to me?
Ava, shocked, mouth hanging open, watches as her friends cheer, Sam laughs and Drew, fucking Drew, joins us too.
Go on, call me uptight now, I dare you.I yank her close as she laughs, grinding into her, doing myself no favors. I’m solid and, frankly, it’s fucking uncomfortable. And when she notices my condition, she cups me.Lord above, don’t do that, woman.I shake my head in warning, taking her hips and lowering to my knees. It’s symbolic. If only she knew. The way she’s looking down at me now, it’s with adoration. Love? She glances around us for a few seconds, taking in the scene, maybe looking to her friends for guidance. She doesn’t need it. I’ll guide her wherever she needs to go, hold her hand all the way, support her, hug her, worship her. I want to be this woman’s be-all and end-all. Can I have that? Will she let me?
Ava returns her gaze to me, half smiling, half unsure, her dark eyes shining. I’ll make her sure. I clasp her hips and kiss her stomach, looking up at her, making a million silent promises to her as I do. I’ll fulfil each and every one. It’s my mission objective.
I get up fast and reinforce every one of my silent promises with a hard kiss, and she sighs, taking me in her arms and hugging me.
“It seems I have competition,” I mumble into her mouth, the slippery friction of her tongue on mine dizzying.
“No,” she says quietly. “You win.”
I lean back, getting her in my sights. “I’ve won all right, lady.” The fucking jackpot. Life-changing stuff. Now I have to show her I’m worthy of the prize.
But first, we dance.
I let her go and she flicks her hair over her shoulder sassily, ready for me. She’s not ready. The thought runs on repeat until I bat it away.
Back to the here. Back to the now.
We dance together and it is, without a doubt, one of the most enjoyable things I’ve ever done. So simple, but so much fun. Me? Uptight? Give me a fucking break. Dancing with Ava is one of my new favorite things, and we’ll be doing a lot of it. Closeness. Focus. A room full of people, and yet there is only us.
The beat slows, and with it, so do we. She’s out of breath, her cheeks pink. I pull her close and move us together, singing quietly as she gazes into my eyes. Like... she could love me. I can only pray. Because make no mistake, I am head over fucking heels for her.
Ava instigates the next kiss, and I fall deeply into it, being taken off to a faraway land where pain and regret no longer exist. I feel her pulling away. No. I’m not done yet. So I bend with her, refusing to surrender her mouth, growling deeply in warning. She doesn’t fight me.
This woman.
She’s knocked me sideways, and she needs to know.
I forfeit her mouth for her eyes. It’s no loss, because her eyes are always so alive, and that life is passing over to me. “You’ve got me, baby.” Forever from now.
She gazes up at me, and I will her drunken mind to absorb that statement. Shehasto understand I am wholeheartedly committed to this. To her. But she’s quiet, just watching me, thinking, and I begrudgingly accept she’s had way too much to drink to make sense of this.
So I give her a small smile and a tender kiss. “Come on.” I return her upright and cover her lower back with my hand, guiding her through the crowd to a table, having to encourage people aside to make way. She’s definitely unsteady on her feet, and all I can think is... what if I wasn’t here?
I scan the area for a spare stool, finding nothing. God damn it. I can’t drag her around the bar until I find one. I position her at the table, checking her stability before releasing her. “Wait here,” I order, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “Don’t move.” I back away, my eyes watching carefully for a stumble as she places her purse on the table. No stumble, but I don’t feel any better about leaving her. I’m just about to return to her when I spy her friends joining her at the table. It gives me a few moments to hunt down a stool.
I find one at the end of the bar and grab it. “Hey, dude, I’m sitting there,” a guy calls, making his way over.