“He’s with me,” Kyle says, stepping closer.
“I didn’t see your hands on him.”
“That’s because I have respect. Let. Him. Go.” Kyle’s voice is low and dangerous.
Grabby Hands lets out a disgusted sigh. “Later, darling. Come find me if you get bored of this loser.” He pushes me into Kyle.
Kyle grasps my shoulders, steadying me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Thanks to you. My hero.” I’m shaking.
I like to be ordered around by a guy, but not like that. Grabby Hands made me feel like a piece of meat or a prize to be claimed rather than won.
Kyle rubs the top of my arm. “Do you want to get out of here?”
I shake my head. I won’t let one arsehole ruin my night. Besides, Kyle is here to keep me safe. Does he make a habit of rescuing guys from bullies?
He slides his hands to my hips. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.”
Has he put his hands there because he wants to dance closer or to warn guys like Grabby Hands to stay away? I don’t care. I like the warm, comforting pressure of his palms.
I concentrate on the rhythm of the music again. He moves in time with me, his hands never stopping me from moving my hips as much or as little as I want to. I gravitate closer to him, wanting so much more. I’ve stopped shaking. My limbs are relaxed and fluid. I’m sweaty from the oppressive heat and dancing. My clothes are sticking to me. Kyle’s tanned face shimmers in the flashing lights. Sweat beads above his top lip. I want to lick it off. God, I wish he’d kiss me. I part my lips and stare into his eyes, a silent invitation I’m desperate for him to take. We’re almost touching. It wouldn’t take much for us to close the minute gap between our swaying bodies. His gaze bores into mine. He stoops, his face inching closer to mine. Kiss me. Please.
“You look beautiful.” His breath ghosts over my face.
His words dance under my skin, making me shiver and whimper with delight.
“So fucking sexy.” His lips are close enough to claim mine.
I tremble with want and need.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Yes.”
His lips caress mine, tentative at first. He moves one hand to the small of my back and applies enough pressure to close the gap between us. As my body melts against him, he presses into the kiss, his lips moving with urgent desire. I part mine, welcoming his seeking tongue into my mouth. I moan around it and suck. My knees shake. I’m glad his grip is firm. He lifts his other hand to my nape and strokes his thumb over it, tickling my damp skin. Our bodies are still moving, still embracing the music as we kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck. I don’t want this moment to end. But it does. It has to.
He stands tall, dislodging my grip on him. I rest my hands against his chest. His heart throbs beneath my palm, strong and fast.
“You’re a really good kisser.”
My lashes flicker. Does he know what his words are doing to me? Of course not. How could he?
“So are you. Is this where you tell me you still live with your parents?”
He laughs. “I live alone.”
“Oh, thank fuck for that. Take me back to yours. Fuck me.”
He widens his eyes, and his nostrils flare.
Did I come on too strong? He leans down and slams his lips over mine again, claiming my mouth with his tongue. I quiver. Yes, take me. Make me yours.
He nuzzles my jaw. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Unless you don’t want to.”
