Right now, I want to take a king-sized white sheet, wave the hell out of it, and then wrap us both in it. Preferably naked. The cut of his tux. The hands casually slung into pockets. The way he stands with an energy and superiority that most men couldn’t even attempt to muster. My brain is short-circuiting. Or I’m just ovulating. Could be both.
He hooks his pointer finger at me and flexes it in a “twiddle-a-twat” or come-hither kind of motion.
And even though the condescending nature of it annoys me, my body is already moving toward his silent command.
“The hell you want, Hanky?”
He smiles at me like there’s something funny I might have missed. He looked me over completely as I walked over, but he takes his time again to drag his eyes from my feet back up to my eyes. I feel his gaze languidly caressing my body, across my skin, and through my bloodstream. It sizzles right through me. I’m so affected by his observance of me that I’m almost waiting for words of appreciation or approval. I widen my eyes for a response to my question, but I’m met with silence and that stupid, sexy smirk.
“Well? Did you need something? I’m not sure if you’re aware of the social gesture you just gave me, but it gives the assumption that you wanted something.”
No response. He just stares back. Breathing loudly and basking in silence.
“Unbelievable. I don’t have the patience to decipher your facial expressions or what could possibly equate your need to beckon me over to you like I’m some kind of eager pet,” I say in a huff.
That gets him to laugh. “Shut up.”
“Shut up?! That’s what you’re going to say to me right now.Shut up!There’s something wrong with the way you think you can talk to women. It’s like a man puts on a tuxedo, and we all, as the opposite sex, should genuflect, when really, it’s just a suit with a dumb bow—” he cuts me off by grabbing my hand. His strong, comforting grip drags me behind him in the direction of the dance floor, through couples already moving and a few feet away from the twelve-piece band.
He pulls me around and into his arms, making my heart pick up speed. I bump into his chest as he wraps one arm around my lower back, the other close to our sides, clasping my hand in his.
“Yes, shut up. I was going to tell you to dance with me, but your big mouth wouldn’t stop moving. So shut up, pull that fine fucking body up against mine, and dance with me.”
What!?
But I can’t even question what he just said, because my entire being has some kind of chemical reaction to his words. My temperature spikes. And the warmth feels good. An infusion that goes straight to all the parts that like attention. I step slightly closer, just like he demanded. Into his orbit. It’s like the air that’s around him is cleaner, easier to take in. Lighter and more freeing than I’ve breathed in a long time.
I should be doing the opposite. I should be reminding myself of the reasons why this proximity is dangerous. I should remember the words that Bea just spouted off mere minutes ago. But I can’t. Iwon’t.
Leaning in, he lowers his mouth next to my ear. “Can we just pretend that we don’t know each other? That we aren’t supposed to stay away. Just for the rest of this song? You looked too good in this dress. There was no way I couldn’t touch you tonight.” As he hovers along my neck, he takes a long breath in through his nose, like he’s smelling the lemon blossoms that decorate my skin. His voice is low as he says, “You’re lucky I don’t drag you right out of here and taste you, Pixie.”
I nod, enough that he can feel my hair brush up against his cheek. I’m aware of how close we are to one another. How anyone who is watching can probably see exactly what my body is doing. I’m fucking melting into this man. My legs feel numb and the only thing I want more than for him to keep talking in that low rasp in my ear is to remind me of how to be properly kissed.
I can’t seem to find words. And silence isn’t something I’m familiar with. He closes any gaps left between our bodies, so I’m flush against him. That’s when I really feel him. How he holds me. But also… “Please tell me you have a water bottle in your pocket,” I say with a smile. I know full well he’s not toting around water to get his gallon in today.
He never flinches. Not even a twitch of his lips. Instead, he says, “I have a water bottle in my pocket. You thirsty?”
I lean in closer because we’re talking about his cock, and I need him to hear me loud and clear. I have no idea what they’re pumping into these air vents, but I have pure unadulterated lust pulsing through my body, and I want nothing more than to get this man in my mouth immediately.
“I’m fucking parched, baby.” I look up, and finally, the dimple pops in his cheek.
29
Giselle
“Where are they going?”I hear Law say to himself as Henry pulls me through the doors. We rushed from the tent, and into the main house. If we weren’t moving so fast, then I’d probably feel the small shivers that I know are running across my skin in anticipation. Perhaps even nervous energy that has nowhere to go other than forward. I don’t dare look back to acknowledge it. Law’s question or the fact that I heard it. Who knows what kind of need or truth would flash in our wake. If we’re lucky, he’s drunk already, and nobody else even noticed the way we danced. Or how Henry held me. Or how he’s speeding me out of here, like if he doesn’t hurry, I’m going to take back what I just said.
Spoiler: I won’t.
The funny part is that it’s usually him who has enough stamina to walk away, remember our agreement, and drop back into the roles we’ve cultivated. But the man is on a mission. Something finally snapped, and he doesn’t want to think about the truths or realities. Maybe tonight we can be in a bubble. Tomorrow, we’ll remember the reasons why this shouldn’t happen.
With where my head’s at, there isn’t a single brain cell that would dare peek through and tell me this was a bad idea. There’s nothing that would keep me from clinging to his hand and following him wherever he’s willing to take me. I can’t keep the smile from my lips, but I bite them just in case I look slightly insane to anyone that may see. “Where we goin’, big guy?”
He doesn’t answer, squeezing my hand instead. We walk with eager steps up the staircase and down the hall of the second floor. Henry nods at one of the security men in the hallway. Yeah, they know what’s about to go down. I assume they’re there to be sure people don’t wander around the house. Kind of like what we’re doing.
Henry pulls me into the room at the end of the hall.
“I don’t get a bedroom?” I start laughing, because in all honesty, I don’t care where we are. I want this man to hold me and touch me everywhere. The location of where that happens means less than nothing to me. But I also can’t help busting his balls a little. It’s too easy. And it’s second nature by now.