“I’ll have one of those too, but make it a double. My tolerance for clubs is low.”
“Funny how we’ve been to two clubs together.” I get the bartender’s attention and place our order. I spin in his hold while we wait, draping my arms around his neck. “We don’t have to stay long. I appreciate you being here, even if it’s only for half an hour.”
“We’ll stay as long as you want. Do you want to know why?” He leans in close, mouth right near my ear. His breath is warm, his hands are roaming, and the pulsing bass of the music makes the moment sexier. “I have earplugs in my pocket.”
“Oh my god.” I giggle. “That’shot, Brody.”
“Bought them on the way home from practice today. Problem solved.”
I love you, I love you, I love you.
Those three words threaten to come out again. I grip his collar, desperate to bring him closer. I kiss him, my tongue tangling with his. My mouth says the things that I can’t, and Brody answers me with enthusiasm. I don’t pull away until there’s a tap on my shoulder and two drinks are being slid our way.
“Thank you,” I say, and Brody drops a wad of cash in the tip jar.
We move over to the birthday girl’s section, but the space has filled up. Brody takes a seat on a long booth and pulls me into his lap, making sure his hand shields my ass from view.
“Comfortable?” he asks, and I nod.
“Very. Areyoucomfortable?”
“My knee has been acting up the last couple of days. I think it’s because I’ve been hitting the ice hard with the guys during our playoff series. Besides that, I’m sipping a good drink. I have a beautiful girl in my lap. What the hell can I complain about?”
I pull out my phone, carefully balancing my drink so it doesn’t spill. I flip the camera to selfie mode, pressing my cheek against his.
“Smile, Brody,” I say, and he turns, kissing my neck instead. I sigh, content when he does it again. “What’s your favorite flavor of cake?”
“Hm. Chocolate with vanilla frosting. What about you?”
“I like that too. We should take a slice home and find a new purpose for the frosting. I’d let you lick it off me.”
He chugs his drink and helps me to my feet. Guiding me to the dance floor, he finds a dark, secluded spot and pulls my hips to his.
“Where would I lick it off of?” he asks. Back here, it’s harder to make out where his hands are. It’s more difficult to see, and I rely on my other senses. His knuckles, running along my hip. His heavy breathing and the jut of his cock through his jeans. “Maybe your ass? Your tits?”
“We can get creative.” I lift my arms above my head, swaying my hips to the music. My dress is obscenely short, sitting right at the tops of my thighs, and I know I’m playing with fire. “You know I’d be a willing participant.”
Brody and I move together, finding a rhythm. It’s not very coordinated, but it’s hot as hell to have him like this; a littleclumsy. A little sweaty. Staring right at me. He holds my chin tight and kisses me roughly, fingers threading in my hair.
“Are you wet?” he whispers, even though no one else could hear him over the noise.
“I’ve been wet since you teased me in the elevator.”
“Here.” He nudges his thigh between my legs, crouching slightly. The friction of his jeans rubs against my pussy, and I gasp. “How does that feel, angel?”
“I think if you keep doing that, you could get me off,” I admit.
It’s a good thing I wore dark denim so no one can see the stain you leave behind.” Brody kisses my forehead, spinning us on the dance floor so my back is against a wall. He puts his hands on either side of my head, caging me in. “I feel so fucking reckless with you, Hannah.”
I whine, desperate to quell the ache between my legs. My need for him grows, and I don’t care that I’m panting. I don’t care that we’re both bending our bodies in awkward positions to make the angle work, because Brody is making me feel like I’m on top of the world.
Maybe it’s the music or our closeness or the drink I had, but I want to tell him. Ineedto tell him how I feel, right this very second.
“Brody. I think—I lo?—”
He cuts me off with another kiss but then pulls away when his leg almost gives out.
“Shit,” he mumbles.
