“Sounds like a lot of work,” I nod, “I’ll try to save you the trouble.”
“See that you do.” Shooting back half of her drink, she pats me on the arm a couple of times and heads away from us, into the crowd while Emmett flies past us like his ass is on fire.
Guess we’ll congratulate him later.
After ordering a couple of tequila shooters for Sophia and myself, we throw them back and I snake my arm around her shoulders, guiding her through the rest of the party.
We pass a table stacked high with foods that were one hundred percent picked by Rowan; tiny cakes and tarts on one of those ridiculous layered stands, cookies and macaroons on another, some fresh veggies and a couple different types of sliders, and a big tray of chicken nuggets. It could only be better if there was a nacho bar or some shit.
Two of the Fowlers are off to the side, sitting at a small table. Sophia sees them around the same time I do and she scurries over behind Rowan, pulling the bottom of her dress up off the floor while she moves. I watch, laughing, while she throws her arms around her new friend and kisses her hard on the cheek. Rowan giggles, and the two of them dissolve into conversation I don’t bother trying to pay attention to; it’s a whole lot of squealing and laughing.
“Hey asshole,” Colt slurs, slapping the back of my arm.
“Drunk already, old bastard? We gotta get your tolerance back up.” I jerk my head toward his wife. “She’s made you a lightweight.”
Using both hands to gesture toward the plate in front of him, he tells me, “She brought me sliders.”
Chuckling, I pick one of the tiny little sandwiches off of his plate and take a bite of it before I set the rest back down. It’s not bad for a party food, but it would take thirty of the things for them to be filling.
“Have you told her yet?”
“No,” I tell him, “and hush up about it.”
Before he has a chance to open his loud-ass mouth again, I move behind Sophia and wrap an arm around her, pulling her out toward the dance floor with me. She turns her back to me, moving her body to the music, and my hands find her hips. They work their way up her body, over the silky, fuzzy material of her dress, then they trail back down to her hips again. I bend down to press my lips against the skin just behind her ear, breathing her in before I suck at the soft flesh.
She smells fucking amazing. She feels fucking amazing. I’ve never been greedy about the things I have, but I’m greedy when it comes to her. I want her all to myself, all the time. I never want to let go of her. The only place she belongs is right fucking here with me. In my arms and nowhere else.
And I wish I wasn’t too damn chicken to tell her that.
With Sophia’s ass grinding against me, another beautiful woman approaches me, and she lifts herself onto her toes to shout into my ear. I don’t really pay attention to what she’s saying; I just let it fill my ears like garbled gibberish while she talks, but I don’t have to understand her to know where her mind is or what she wants.
I’m about to shut her down –I fucking know– when Sophia stops dancing and turns to face her.
“I’m sorry,” she shouts, “I can see that you have eyes. And you’re not wearing glasses, so they must work pretty well.” My eyebrows shoot damn near up to my hairline and I cross my arms over my chest, settling in to watch the show while Sophia takes a step closer to the woman. “Since your eyes work, you can see that he’s dancing with hisgirlfriend, and you can get lost.”
The woman looks offended, like she’s either about to start yelling or crying, and normally I’d say something about it; but I’m too busy watching, my cock swelling while I stare at my girl. Jealousy looks fucking sexy on her. The other chick turns tail like a wounded animal and stalks off somewhere, probably toward the bar for another drink.
My arms drape around the front of Sophia’s shoulders, and I bend down to purr into her ear. “Sophia, Sugar, I dunno about you, but that made me unbelievably horny.”
A wicked little grin ticks up the corner of her mouth. “Your place or mine?”
The only answer I give her is my arm wrapping around her body, throwing her over my shoulder while I haul her ass out of the building.
THIRTY-TWO
Sophia
It only took ten minutes to get back to my apartment building, because Eric told our Uber driver that he would write out a personal check for five thousand dollars if he got us here in less than fifteen. It was a terrifying ride; but thrilling, all the same.
I throw the door to my apartment open and stumble inside with Eric right behind me, already working at the zipper on the back of my dress. The two of us giggle like a couple of schoolgirls while we move through the apartment and Casey watches us from the couch, wearing a look on his face which says that he’s trying to determine if he needs to be in protective brother mode or if he should just let it ride.
“Hi Casey! Bye Casey!” I shout to him.
Eric flicks a hand up toward him in greeting, keeping the other firmly on my zipper. “Davis, nice to meet you, man,” he laughs, pushing me over the threshold into my bedroom.
He kicks the door shut behind us while he works to pull my dress down the length of my body, leaving me in just my strapless push-up bra and my panties, and he groans as soon as the dress hits the floor beneath us. His hands clamp down on my sides, his mouth finding its way to my neck to bite down hard on my flesh, and I let out a low moan in response. I love the way that it feels every time he does that,like he’s laying claim to me and marking me as his. With the Ecstasy still running through my veins, every touch is magnified, intoxicating, and all that I can think about it melting into him.
“I don’t have any rope, or much space to run,” I breathe, “but I have enthusiasm.”
