“Olive,” I breathe her name, starting to apologize, but she glances over her shoulder, silencing me with a single look.
She starts dancing again, grinding her body against mine, torturing me with her curves.
Fuck it. If I’m going to hell for this, I want the deluxe deal.
My right hand flattens on her stomach, forcing her against me until there’s no space between us anywhere, while my left hand caresses every inch it can reach.
I feel the muscles in her leg working as she dances against me, and I drag my fingertips up the front of her thigh, carvinga path towards her hip.
She pushes against me as I anchor her waist, pulling her in impossibly closer. Her fingernails climb the back of my neck, digging into my hair and scraping at my scalp.
Pure carnal frustration escapes my throat, and she gasps as I silence myself on the soft spot between her shoulder and neck.
No one has ever been able to elicit such impulses from me, but it’s Olive, and I’m hard enough that I’m hallucinating taking her right here in the middle of the dance floor.
She tugs my palm higher on her stomach and up her ribs until my thumb brushes the underside of her breast. Not over her tank top, but under the flowy fabric, my rough skin caresses her soft flesh.
I hold her sternum steady, plastering her shoulders to my chest. “Don’t fucking start something you don’t intend to finish, dove,” I murmur in her ear.
Her whole body shudders when I bite her earlobe, and she twists in my arms, always beating me at my own game. Because it’s her and sheownsme.
“You don’t like how I dance?” Her lips flutter against mycheek, and it takes everything in me not to turn my head to claim them with my own.
My hands dance up her back instead, capturing every inch of her exposed skin between the two fucking strings holding her top together. “Ilovethe way you dance,” I growl, feeling every inch of her body melded to mine.
She wraps her arms around my neck, and I breathe in her scent, losing sight of everything around me. This can’t be real life. I’ve dreamed of this for too long. I must’ve fallen and cracked my head open.
Or maybe I got in a car accident on the way here.
No, I rode my bike. I probably got taken out by a trucker.
The volume of the music dips as the strobe lights cut off, yanking me from my stupor.
“It’s closing time, open all the doors and let you out into the world.”
The song rips the idiocy from my brain as I blink at the woman in my arms.
“Closing time, turn all of the lights on over every boy and every girl.”
I’m holding Liv, and I’m acting like a fucking animal.
It’s Olive.MyOlive. And, I’m not taking this moment seriously enough. She deserves better than this.
“Jensen,” she whispers, holding my cheeks in her soft hands, forcing my attention to her mouth. It’s still loud enough in here that I need to read her lips as she speaks.
But her lips. I want to feel her lips.
“My friends are going to make me leave now.”
“What?” I blink. Take her?
“That’s girl code. Come together, leave together.” That means I need to let her go. “Unless…” She starts, and I don’t wait for her to finish, anchoring my arm around her waist and lifting. She squeals, but her legs wrap around my hips instinctively.
I’m moving across the room and through the crowd before someone comes for her. She’s mine, dammit.
“Jensen,” she breathes my name again as we crest the outside air and the cold bites her skin.
I set her on my bike, whipping my long-sleeve shirt off, and draping it over her head. She giggles as I help guide her arms through the sleeves.
