I gaze at her, those twinkling blue eyes a shade darker against the night, full lips parting the longer we stare. Dancing with her is out of the question. I’m buzzed on liquor, my willpower dangling by a thread, my blood singing for her. She’s already too close. One more inch and I’ll haul her over my shoulder, carry her to my room, and strip her bare. She’ll be underneath me before she can take her next breath.
“Not a good idea,” I murmur.
Annie reaches for a glass of champagne, her eyes glazed over. She’s tipsy too. I can tell by the giddy glow on her face.
“Come on. I hate seeing you look sad, especially after the way you played tonight. You deserve to let loose, have some fun.” She flashes me her teeth.
I stare at her mouth, throat rolling. Expression strained.
Another shoulder nudge. “I smile, you smile. Remember?”
Sighing, I glance away, down at the shiny concrete beneath my boots.
Her smile fades. “Just one dance,” she says. Swallowing the champagne in a few gulps, she springs to her feet, taking me by the hand. “I need an outlet for this adrenaline.”
Dammit.
My legs carry me forward before my brain catches up, following her to a corner of the room where bodies already sway in a fog of perfume and pulsing bass.
Annie’s arms lift above her head as she starts to move, her hips rolling in slow, lazy circles. She spins to face away from me, grabs my hands, and pulls them around her waist, fitting her body snug against my front.
I exhale sharply, my mouth dropping to the crown of her head, breathing her in. Flowers, watermelon, champagne, and something wild beneath it all.
My palms flatten across her stomach.
She laces our fingers together, lifting my arms overhead with hers, and it’s a slow, torturous drag that sends a full-body shudder through me. I lower my face to the curve of her neck, brushing my nose along her damp skin. Without thinking, I nip lightly at her earlobe.
A breathy gasp slips from her lips. She arches into me, pressing her ass against the hard line of my body.
I groan under my breath, clenching my jaw as my hands slide down the length of her arms, then trace her waist, her hips.
Instinct and madness have me tugging her closer, grinding her back into me.
My dick hardens. My blood pounds hot and reckless.
My mind spins with dark thoughts. Every dirty, filthy thing I’d do to her. I imagine her thighs clamped around my face as I tongue-fuck her into oblivion, her breasts heaving beneath my hands, my mouth greedy and ravenous. A million sordid positions flash through my head. Taking her doggie-style, her riding me on the floor, in the shower, against the counter…
Jesus.
This needs to stop.
Untangling myself from her spell, I step away, rake a hand through my hair. When she faces me, there’s a rosy flush on her cheeks, confusion in her eyes.
“I’m gonna grab a drink,” I say.
“Chase…”
“It’s just my head. Need something stronger than champagne.”
It is my head. But it’s also my heart. She’s not ready, and I’m not in the right state of mind to say no when she stumbles into my bed tonight, looking for more than solace.
And yet…I think it’s something else too.
Something beyond the ramifications of that stolen rain kiss.
It’s fear.
Fear that I’m becoming someone else.
