“I don’t think I should,” he murmured.
“Then don’t,” I said.
We arrived at the absurdly small venue in Porter Square just as the headlining act went on, and we found a spot near the front. I twirled away from Sam at one point, and started dancing with a group of rockabilly chicks. Nowthesewere my people.
He smiled and nodded, and I saw him retreat to the bar. I assumed he was going to flirt with the bartender, but he never took his eyes off me. I liked him watching. I knew it was creepy to say that, but I sensed him staring at me and it was glorious.
The band kicked off a slow tune, and the blonde to my left pulled me close to sway with the song. It was a perfect, mellow moment until I spotted Sam on the other side of the venue. His eyes were locked on me, and I’d never felt such a hot, intense gaze. His suit coat was gone and shirtsleeves rolled up, and right then, I wanted his hands on my body.
I wanted it enough to get a little silly.
I went up on my tiptoes and kissed the blonde with the Veronica Lake hair. It felt crazy and exhilarating and so, so smooth, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins drowned out the band. Her tongue rolled against mine, and her hand moved up to glide over my breast and down to my ass. She sucked on my bottom lip, and it was an overwhelming, slightly mischievous experience.
“You’re pretty,” she whispered, and squeezed my shoulders with a tight hug. “Do you want to meet my boyfriend? I think he’d like you.”
I didn’t know how to react to that, and there was a laugh forming in my throat, but a hand closed around my arm, and Sam was tearing me away from her. I crashed into the hard wall of his chest, my fingers digging into his biceps to keep me steady as the crowd around us rocked with the music.
“What was that?” he asked, his lips brushing over my ear.
“You have to ask?” I said. His arms were wrapped around me, pressing me flush against his body, and though it was exactly what I wanted, I wanted more.
“I have an idea,” he chuckled. He ran his hand through my hair, then tucked it over my ears. “But I want to hear you say it.”
“You were right. I wanted to kiss a girl,” I said. “The opportunity presented itself.”
“Did you like it?” I traced the placket on his shirt and nodded. “Would you like to do it again?”
It was too loud to follow this conversation in the middle of a live show, and I was a heartbeat away from shoving my hands down his pants. I dragged him down a dark hallway, but he didn’t let me take control for long. He spun me around and pushed me against the wall, his body layered over mine.
“Is that whatyouwant?” I asked.
He laughed, a rueful smile on his face, and followed the line of my collarbones with his finger. Sam dipped his head to my chest and kissed the path he had drawn, then moved up, over my throat and chin. When he finally reached my mouth, I pulled him closer.
“That wasn’t the question, Tiel. You said you enjoyed it. Maybe you want to find that chick and ask her to lick your pussy on a bed of rose petals. That would just leave double penetration and some public indecency.”
“You’d love that,” I said. I dug my fingers through his hair, destroying the precise styling. I stretched up on my toes and teased my lips over his. “You could watch and—”
He surged against me, flattening me, and claimed my mouth. “Watch? I don’t get to participate?”
“Such a pervy boy,” I groaned.
“And you love it,” he said, his lips on my neck. His hands skimmed up and down my sides, his fingertips brushing my breasts slightly yet just enough to leave my nipples tight and wanting. “Don’t you?”
I grabbed his hands and pulled them away from my body. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“How many questions can you answer with another question?” Frowning, he placed my hands on his belt and fisted my dress at my hips, edging it up as he wedged his thigh between my legs. “Don’t ever apologize for what you want.”
Sam’s hand slid beneath my dress to cup my ass, and he squeezed, tucking me against him until my panties were pressed to his trousers. He lifted his head and sent me the darkest, most sensual smile I’d ever seen.
“Oh would you stop with the smolders?” I said. “I’ve already bought it. You don’t need to keep selling.”
He laughed and rolled his pelvis against me, and I felt the thick hardness of him through our clothes.
Oh, holy fucktarts.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Can we be the friends who kiss and have dance parties and watchPulp Fictionin bed?” I asked. “And . . . maybe more?”
