“Do you want to dance with me?”
Everything in me is telling me to walk away right now, to run from her like I did earlier, because her drunken recitation of the running list in her head proves that my instincts about her being a source of disruption in my life were spot on. Still, I can’t bring myself to move. I’m too intrigued by her and the tangle of emotions swelling in my chest just from being close to her.
“Tell me one thing first.”
Sloane blinks several times to focus. Her eyes have that glassy look to them that indicates major alcohol consumption, and I wonder exactly how much she’s had to drink.
“What do you want to know?”
“Can’t you just tell whoever pissed you off to go screw themselves?”
Her brows dip together. “What do you mean?”
“This list isn’t about you. It’s about proving something to someone else, so why don’t you just tell them to go screw themselves and move on with your life?”
“She’d just see it as confirmation that she’s been right about me all along. Her twisted mind will find a way to make her the victim even though she called her own daughter an ungrateful little bitch and a constant source of disappointment.”
She says the last bit with practiced indifference, trying to make it seem like she doesn’t care, but I see it for what it is: the source of her shadows,the reason for the restless flame that called to me before. And it sends anger slicing through me on her behalf. The idea that anyone could treat her that way makes me want to rip the world apart with my bare hands. My body tenses. Not just at the thought, but at the realization, Iwoulddo that for her.
“Your mom said that?”
“Among other things, but please don’t feel bad for me. I should have given up trying to please her a long time ago. Now, are you going to dance with me, or should I find someone else to help me check off the last two items on my list for tonight?”
I lift an unamused brow at her, and she blushes as I stand with her in my arms. “Don’t tease me, Sloane.”
Both of her legs wrap around my waist, nestling the heat of her right along my abs. We stare at each other for a beat, and then our lips crash together in a fierce entanglement that’s all lips, tongues, and teeth and punctuated by a feral groan that takes my brain a full second to realize belongs to me. Sloane giggles against my lips, and the sound of her laughter being swallowed by my mouth is so intimate, so exquisite that my heart starts trying to beat itself right out of my chest.
“More, Dom.” Sloane moans into my mouth. “I need more.”
“I know, baby. I know.”
I want more too. I want to peel this dress off of her body with my teeth. I want to kiss every inch of her bare skin and mark her with my scent. I want to taste her and tease her while she moans my name and leaves welts on my back, because it all just feels so fucking good. But I can’t give her more. Not while we’re standing on the back porch of a frat house where anyone can see us.
And not while she’s drunk.
The image of Sloane tossing back drinks is like a bucket of ice water being poured down my back, sobering me up even though I haven’t had a drop of alcohol tonight. I pull back and look at her. She looks even morebeautiful now with her lips swollen from my kisses and her eyes half hooded with lust for me, but I can’t keep going. I shouldn’t have taken it this far when I knew she was drinking.
Although it pains me, I reach around and loosen the death grip her legs have on my waist. Sloane drops them to the ground, complying even though the furrow in her brows tells me she’s a little confused.
“What are you doing?”
“Stopping this before we jump straight to list item number four.”
“Oh, right.” She pulls her dress down and casts an alarmed, but almost regretful, look at the erection tenting my pants. “We should head back inside.”
“Yes, we should.”
The moment the words pass my lips, Sloane starts walking without looking back to see if I’m following. She marches onto the dance floor, claims a spot, and starts to move. Her hands are in her curls, lifting them off of her neck, and the additional flash of skin has me damn near running to get to her. As soon as I’m behind her, she leans back into me, grabbing my hands and placing them on her waist while she sets a rhythm I’m all too happy to follow.
I don’t know how long we stay like that, but I love every minute of it. Every roll of her ass into an erection I don’t even try to control because she’s so fucking happy to have it pressing into her. Every whiskey-laced kiss she gives me when she comes back from the kitchen with another drink in her hand. Every sultry smirk she throws over her shoulder as we work together to check off the third item on her list.
“You okay, Dom?”
She gives another swivel of her hips. The movement makes her scent waft up to me and tickle my nose. I don’t answer. I’m too caught up in the graceful curve of her neck and the curly black strands that graze her shoulders, demanding that I touch her there.
I obey, my fingers gliding over soft, creamy skin the color of honey.Sloane shivers at the touch and throws yet another lazy smirk over her shoulder. My heart does a flip in my chest as I realize why I couldn’t walk away even when I thought I wanted to:She fucking owns me.
The knot of emotions in my chest digs in deeper, making themselves at home right behind my rib cage. I can’t even begin to name them all, but I know they’re there and I know what they mean. Know it the same way I know whatever my parents had wasn’t love. I mean, the abuse and the cheating made that clear, but I also never saw them look at each other the way I know I look at Sloane.
