“I’ll make you a deal?” I waited for him to reply, watched as he caved, the idea of a challenge too much for him to refuse.
“Go on.”
“I won’t let anyone else touch me…” I paused, my tongue darting out to moisten my lips and watching as he tracked the movement with his eyes. “If you promise to do it for me when we get home.”
“I’m surprised you haven’t caught fire,” Arna screamed over the music. “That man has heat in his gaze.”
I brushed her off with a lazy gesture, as if her words were nonsense but I could feel the truth behind them. To know he would be watching like a hawk to make sure no one came within a foot of me.
I thought I was in control of the flirtatious game, driven by liquor and longing, only he’d been in the driver’s seat the entire time. His mouth had unravelled into a full-blown smile - my words clearly pleasing him. Because I’d again openly acknowledged I wanted more and not when we were surrounded by people we needed to convince, but when there was no reason to pretend.
“Deal,” he’d agreed, concluding with, “but don’t drink anymore. I want you completely coherent while I taste that pussy I’ve been thinking about for an unforgivably long time.” His hand released my wrist at that moment, and I was forced to try to walk away without overtly shifting to chase relief at his words.
I was barely a metre away, when he caught me again, icing the entire cake with a seductive vow. “Once you’re done dancing, get back over here and I’ll make that little ache go away, Evy.” Memories of his sinful oath sent a smattering of goosebumps across my skin.
“Holy shit,” Marlee screamed, giving me a gentle shove before getting right up into my face. “You’ve actually fucked him!” Her mouth hung open, her whole body moving to the Paramore track blaring over the speakers. Her perception was unnervingly accurate, but I wasn’t going to be admitting to that when all I could think about was how soon we could leave, and he could make do on his promises.
“Uhhh, I think my brother wants you.” I avoided her statement, my finger drifting toward where Seb lingered at the edge of the dance floor, offering not even a glance in our direction as he scanned his club. She took the bait, beelining for him as the song came to an end.
“I need hydrating,” I called to Arna and Flick who were lost to the lyrics as I headed back to the table.
As if reading my mind, Cooper was leaning up against the wall beside the table with a glass of water.
“You finished dancing?” He asked, as I sculled the entire drink before nodding.
“I am.”
“Did you have any alcohol while you were out there?” His tone was light, and I loved this playful side of him. The side where he was enjoying whatever little game we’d created. I knew he’d been watching me the entire time, but I played along anyway.
“I did not.”
“And did you let anyone touch you?” To anyone watching he was the epitome of calm. Arms crossed over his broad chest accentuating his biceps, sandy blond hair falling lazily across his forehead, stopping just above the sparkling blues daring me to disobey. Bridging the gap between us, I moved into the space between his spread legs, leaving less than an inch between us.
“I did not.” I kept my stance composed, but my voice wavered exposing the storm inside me. I’d imagined what it would be like to be on the receiving end of a look like that from him for so long. Long enough that I didn’t think it would ever happen.
Always a dream, never a reality.
Only this was very much real, and so was the audible moan that slithered up my throat when he slowly trailed a finger up the seam of my pants, pausing when he got to the bottom of my zipper. My chest tightened, my hips involuntarily inching closer, begging for more.
“Does this pretty little pussy need to be touched?” He drawled, and as if connected to his words, the ache between my legs picked up speed. My nipples tightening, my hands shaking as they glided up his chest and around his neck, trapping his hand between us where no one else could see.
I nodded once, suddenly too self-conscious to answer and coiled so tight that it wasn’t far-fetched in thinking I could detonate with even the slightest pressure. He placed his free hand onmy lower back, while the other expertly undid my button followed by my zipper and discreetly slipped beneath the material.
My wide eyes shot to his, as terrified at him continuing as I was at him stopping.
“You better move those hips, so everyone thinks we’re dancing.” His breath was warm against my cheek, laced with the sting of whiskey and his hand dipped lower again while I did as he said, lost in the haze of it all.
“Perfect.” The appraisal fell from his lips as his fingers tickled and teased, edging closer to my entrance as we both rocked to the music, the sounds of conversation and laughter surrounding us.
“Jesus,” he rushed, his touch finally dipping into me, finding me lasciviously wet.
Exhaling, a soft, aching sound tumbled forth and my fingers fought for grip in the back of his hair. Anything to ground me when I felt as though I was about to lose control.
I raised my chin, gazing at him pleadingly, an unspoken demand for him to be inside me. And as if we weren’t surrounded by hundreds of people, at the side of my brother’s nightclub, he didn’t hesitate, finding my swollen clit and applying the slightest amount of pressure.
“I’m going to make you come right here, okay?” he asked, the push and pull of his own breaths mingling with my own.
I wanted to feel him too.
