Regardless of how much I loathe the scene happening before me, nobody watching would see the absolute tempest happening behind my eyes.
Sliding in next to her, I brush my arm lightly against Kat’s before slipping it around her back. My hand lands on her hip just like he was attempting to do.
“There you are,” I murmur, eyes flicking from her to the guy sharp enough to make him pull back and question what’s going on. “Mind if I steal her?”
He hesitates, likely wondering if he can size up to me. Smart, at least. But he apparently knows better than to argue while putting more space between us. One good look at me and he backs away with a murmured response I don’t care to hear.
Kat lifts a brow at him, but I don’t wait for her permission. Instead, I dissolve the irritating game by using my hand against her hip to guide her away from the bar and over to the main floor, where others dance around us.
Music pulses lowly around us, and the lights cast various colors and shadows along her face while we start to move.
She doesn’t fight me on it. Instead, she goes along with my silent request, and I can tell by the subtle smugness that she’s enjoying this.
I’ve played right into it.
Her lips pull, and a gleam of satisfaction fills her eyes. She’s certainly pleased with herself, and it shows in the light sway of her hips that drags my gaze lower than I should allow it to go.
“I knew you were jealous, but this is something else,” Kat says, just loud enough for me to catch it over the music.
I don’t answer right away while I try to keep my composure, searching for the right words that won’t serve as more fuel to the fire.
My hands settle on her waist while I hold her close. Too close, almost.
“You think I’d be jealous of someone like that?”
She holds my attention, almost daring me to lie. I want to, but at least I can hedge it.
Instead, I lean closer, letting my lips graze the shell of her ear without fully giving in. “I didn’t appreciate how he looked at you…like he had any right to touch you.”
I feel as Kat shivers, and I can’t tell if she even cares to try and hide it anymore.
But she laughs to herself with a hint of mockery in it. “You’re ridiculous.”
Regardless of how rage-inducing the whole thing was, I grin anyway, focusing more on the way she feels under my hands. How the warmth of her feels more like a siren call.
“Maybe I am, but at least I’m not boring.”
“No…I suppose you aren’t.”
Is that a subtle tease in return? It sure seems like it. I take it that way regardless.
Even if I assumed Kat wouldn’t entertain any kind of closeness like this, she proves me wrong yet again.
We dance, bodies brushing while the tension rises with every passing moment. I’m so aware of her that it almost hurts.
She moves like it’s her goal to unnerve me, grinding just enough to tease without following through, and it has me completely on edge.
Heat pools in my gut, turning everything else distinctly hazy. My pants tighten, and if she didn’t realize how much she affects me before, then she sure as hell knows now.
I hate it, yet I love it all the same.
The whiskey doesn’t help as it blurs the lines of what I should and shouldn’t do, but not enough to forget about every point of contact. Of every way I want her to surrender to me.
Not to my demands, but to the undeniable storm brewing between us. To the wants and desires she’s been so hellbent on dispelling.
I need her in more ways than one.
As much as I want to be absolutely coherent to not miss a moment, the club seems to spin around us, and she’s the only thing I see.
