“Nobody is going to think anything, Holls. We’re just two coworkers enjoying a night out,” he shrugs. “It will only look like a big deal if we turn it into one.”
I glance out at those already dancing under the large chandeliers, and the temptation only grows. I hate this. If any of the other guys asked me to dance, I’d have said yes without a second thought. But with Fletcher, it’s complicated, especially since he’s the only one here I actually want to dance with.
“Okay, fine. One dance,” I give in, trying to act as confident as Fletcher looks.
He stands first, and pulls out my chair while offering his hand. I take it before he once again rests his palm on the small of my back. My body is far too aware of his touch as heat blooms low in my stomach before twisting into anxious knots.
Why am I like this?
I force myself to take a page from Elsa’s book and let it go—the nerves and any possible sideways glances. After how long I’ve made us wait, we deserve this one dance.
It’s not like everyone’s oblivious to how flirty Fletcher gets around me. And yeah, maybe a couple of the guys have started connecting the dots, but I’m choosing to believe, at least for tonight, that nobody actually knows anything.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been aching to get you alone,” Fletcher says, his voice low as he wraps an arm around my waist, holding my hand with the other.
I glance around at the other dancers. “Does this really count as alone?”
“Okay, fine. Not really, but that only means when I finally get you all to myself later, it will make it even more special.”
I arch a brow. “Oh, so you think you’re going to get me alone, huh?”
“Oh, without a doubt. It’s happening. That’s just a fact.”
“You sound awfully confident for someone who never actually consulted me about this. What if I already have plans for the evening that involve me heading upstairs all by myself, putting on that fluffy hotel robe, and bingeing chick flicks until I pass out?”
He shrugs. “I’m pretty sure I could get you to change your mind. But, if for some reason I can't, I'd say you sound like a woman with excellent taste, grab the other matching robe, and suggest we watchThe Wedding Plannerfirst. I’m a bit of a sucker for a good J Lo movie.”
I fight the urge to smile, even if my amused eyes give me away.
“Well, since you agree that I have such good taste” I say as we continue to sway softly to the music. “What would you suggest we do that could somehow beat that?”
“Like you, I’d planned ahead and booked a private hotel room just for us...” He leans in, whispering the rest in my ear, “where I plan to slowly peel that dress off your perfect little body before tasting every single inch of your skin. And then, when I’m finally finished and you’re fully satisfied, we can slip into those comfy robes and watchThe Wedding Planner.”
A wave of arousal spreads between my thighs as I fight the need to blush.
“You really do have a thing for J Lo, huh?” I ask, my weak attempt at skipping over the rest.
“Guilty,” he smirks. "But it's nothing compared to what I feel for you.”
So much for not blushing.
“What would you say if I suggested the two of us sneak off now and get this after-party started a little early?” he asks, his thumb brushing slow, continuous strokes along my back, making it clear he knows exactly what he’s doing.
What happened to the good ol’ days when I was the one in control? Because right now, this man has turned my life completely upside down as I find myself actually considering his offer.
The only problem? Tonight’s my dad’s big night.
My eyes sweep across the room as I spot him speaking with a few of his top sponsors. Okay, so maybe it’d be fine, and he wouldn’t actually miss me. Being the man of the hour, he’s managed to stay busy all night.
Plus, it’s not like we’d be the only ones dipping out a little early. Also, I need to get this man out of this tux, stat! He’s far too good looking with it on, and he fucking knows it.
Then again, he’s just as sexy without it, perhaps more so. Either way, I'm dying to get this man naked—the sooner, the better.
“Lead the way.”
28
Fletcher
