“You’ve been drinking champagne.” I heard the smile in his voice.
“Yes, had I known you were coming I would have added a dash of garlic,” I shot back with a light-hearted smile and gazed up.
The light lit up in his eyes. “Garlic repelling vampires is a myth. However, I am not a fan of its taste.”
“I will keep that in mind.”
“Am I to take it you will eat a little more or little less?”
“Jury’s out,” I replied.
“I’ll see what I can do to pull the odds a little more to my favor then.” And then he smiled, his beautiful smile, and my legs went to water.
My eyes traveled out, Monique was watching us closely, a bitter look on her face. Was it jealousy I could see? I thought it was, I wondered if she was an old fling, or a current one. Maybe they skipped around between each other. Or maybe she just didn’t like another female on the scene. I gave it no more thought though because Karson leaned in closer, pulled my body a little firmer against his, and I was swept away in the music. There were people all around us but they faded like mist in the distance. A gentle buzzing warmed my stomach, my heart, between my legs. The broken pieces of me were still there, but when he held me in his arms he soothed them, and in that moment I could forget about them. The power he held was extraordinary. His hand swept across my back sending delightful shivers down my spine. My heart took off in response. It wasn’t the move which immediately shifted my mood. It was the pleased, knowing smile, that played on his lips. The arrogance I abhorred.
“Stop it, Karson!”
“Stop what?”
“Using what you have to . . . do that.”
“Do what, Amelia?” He feigned innocence.
His response annoyed me. He was playing games, it was amusing to him to work me like a puppet on a string. He wanted to play games. Fine! He moved his pawn, I decided to play back and move my pawn, beat him at his own game. I didn’t answer, instead I eased my body tightly into his. My breasts pressed into his chest. His groin rested against mine, it stirred, satisfyingly, inresponse. I let my lips graze his neck, pulled them away a little so just the soft warmth of my breath fell on his skin, the smell of his skin was intoxicating. I ran my fingers through the back of his hair, lowered my lips to his neck and kissed, allowing my teeth to slide, whisper soft, on his skin. I drew in his sweet scent, tasted it across my tongue.
His breath came harder, and he shivered. I wanted to keep going. I wanted to taste his lips. It took more effort than I’d ever admit to pull away. I gazed into his eyes, they were wrapped in a darkened, lusty film.
“That,” I said pompously. Forcing myself to step back out of his arms. “Except, I don’t play games.”
“Well if you do not play games, Amelia,” he drawled, “perhaps we need to find a room and you can act a little further on it then?”
Son of a bitch. I had no answer, it seemed that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t work, he’d always win, and I’d always hated losing.
“Just get him away,” I snapped.
Michael glanced up and there was a look of annoyance in his eyes. I couldn’t help the pang of guilt in my stomach. I turned heel and headed to the bar. I needed a drink. A thousand drinks. My body cried out as if the physical deprivation had mortally wounded it. In my game playing I hadn’t counted on turning myself on.
Great,now I’m frustrated emotionally and physically, great job, Amy, you really showed him.
I looked up. Ethan was still at the other end with the girl circling his finger in long motions on her arm. She’d moved her stool so close she was seated between his legs. Their thighs touched.
Standing at the other end of bar was Brian Jefferson, I made a beeline straight toward him. I could at least spend my timegetting information if I had to be stuck here. The back of my left heel pinched, I was already getting a blister. I hated heels as much as I hated dresses. It took willpower not to limp. I sidled up beside Jefferson. He glanced down. I deliberately paid him no attention. I was hardly a pro at capturing attention, but I’d seen it in various movies so many times, I figured there must be something to it.
“What would you like to drink?” the barmaid asked.
“Whiskey, please.”
“On the rocks?”
“Straight.” I pulled a stool across and sat down.
She poured the drink and slid it across. I shot it straight down. The liquid gold displaced some of the fire in my mind but did nothing to remove it from between my legs. She poured another and slipped it across without asking.
“Amy, hi.”
I looked up to see Sam, the drama teacher. Her boobs bobbed dangerously in my face.
“Sam, hi.”
