He arches a brow at me. “Do your parents know you talk to strange men like this?”
“My parents aren't here tonight. Plus, you're not strange. You're just…” My voice trails off, searching for the right words. “Interesting. Older. It’s likely you have some shit in your past that I don’t need to know about.”
“Smart girl.”
“I'm not a girl,” I say, closing the remaining space between us.. “I might be younger than you, but I am still a woman. A woman who knows what she wants.”
Suddenly, the room erupts around us, and Daemon scans the crowd.
“Ten!” someone by the window shouts.
His dark eyes return to mine. There’s a crease between his eyebrows. “Why are they counting? It’s still early.”
“Nine!”
“Mama Georges and Sergio don’t stay for the whole party.” I point across the room to the spot where Maxton’s parents already have their jackets on near the door.
“Isn’t this their house?” He questions, his eyes still on the couple bundled up by the door.
“Eight!”
I go up on my tiptoes, my lips brushing his ear as I explain, “They don’t like to stay up until midnight anymore. Mama Georges says she’s too old for that.”
“Seven!”
A soft chuckle passes his lips when he turns to face me, his nose practically brushing mine in the process. “So the family has an early countdown just for them?”
“Six!”
I nod, not knowing what else to do. Daemon is so close. His masculine scent surrounds me. It’s a rich woodsy fragrance that drives me crazy.
“We probably shouldn’t…” he starts to say, his fingers pressing into my side. His words contradict the way his hand grips me, and the hesitation is etched into his handsome face.
“Five! Four! Three!” The faux countdown rings out around us, but I can barely hear anything over the erratic thumping of my heart.
“We should,” I whisper, hooking my hands around his neck.
“Two!”
Daemon presses his forehead to mine, but I tilt my head, our lips connecting the second the crowd shouts, “One! Happy New Year!”
The friends and family around us fade away as I get lost in the feel of his full, soft lips pressed to mine. My tongue glides over the seam of his lips, silently asking for entrance.
Daemon denies my request, breaking the kiss. He grabs my hand, and without a word, he leads me away from my family and friends.
We slip out through the kitchen, past the caterers, and into the mudroom where coats are messily stacked. Quickly, we both find our jackets and put them on, but the cold still assaults my skin when we step outside. Snow crunches under our feet as we move.
“There's a snowmobile in the garage,” I blurt out before I can think about what I’m saying. “The keys are always in it.”
“Absolutely not. We can’t do that, Gianna.” Daemon is shaking his head furiously, taking slow, measured steps away from me.
I stop his retreat, pulling him in the direction of the detached garage. My heart is hammering with each crunching step through the snow. “Come on. When was the last time you did something wild?”
“I don’t know about this…” his words trail off, leaving the doubt lingering between us.
“Don’t worry about what could happen. Think about the rush you’ll feel when we ride away on it.” I toss a mischievous smirk over my shoulder as I turn the handle of the side entrance to the garage. Daemon follows me inside, eyes darting around the room.
“You're going to get me arrested,” he says, but he's following me inside anyway.
