Her stomach dropped. “Honestly, I was glad Jessica gave me an excuse to leave. I’m not a big fan of dancing.”
“Bet I could get you to enjoy it.” With his free hand, he smoothed his thumb gently across her cheek, sending her pulse scattering. “Give me an hour, Livvy. If you’ve not had fun by then, I’ll walk you back.”
She wasn’t sure it was a good idea, just like she wasn’t sure what to do with these fluttery, giddy feelings she got when he touched her, when helookedat her. “Okay, one hour. And only to avoid Ashley taking the piss out of me for leaving early.”
There, a rational decision. Not one based on hormones.
Connor was out of his depth with Olivia on so many levels, but not this one. Not on a heady, crowded dance floor, a kaleidoscope of colors raining over them, music pulsating through his veins. His hands on the hips of a woman who had no clue how gorgeous she looked in the jumpsuit she clearly hated but had stoically worn to please her niece.
This, being here with her, made the past frantic few hours of scrubbing and chopping like a madman under Felix’s careful scrutiny totally worth it.
“Enjoying yourself yet?”
“Not really.” She nodded over to where Sophie and her friends, arms aloft, were dancing the fuck out of the beat. “I’d find it less painful if I could dance like that.”
“You can.” He turned them so her back was against his chest, her bum nestled perfectly between his legs. “Turn off that powerful brain, ignore the voices telling you how much you don’t like it, can’t do it. Ignore everything but the beat and move with me.”
She was stiff, awkward, but he kept his hands steady on her hips, using his thighs to coax hers to move to his rhythm. “You feel incredible.”
She faltered, but a beat later he felt her body relax and settle more firmly against his.
Fuck. If he didn’t shift away, she would soon know exactly how much he was enjoying this. Yet howcouldhe move away when her body was finally moving in synchrony with his?
He tried to think of something else: soggy soufflés, the mess he’d left back home in his rush to pack. The faces of his parents if he ever had the balls to ask them for a loan to start the restaurant. Nope. This erection was not budging.
Suddenly her body stopped moving.
“Ignore it.” He slid his hands up and down her hips because, fuck it, he couldn’t get any harder than he already was.
She huffed. “Easier said than done.”
For one brief, electrifying moment she pushed farther against him. His hopes rose as fast as other parts of his anatomy, but just as quickly, she shifted away from him. “I need a rest.”
He buried his disappointment behind a smile. “Sure.”
He reached for her hand—because he enjoyed touching her and because he wasn’t going to lose her in this crowd. When her fingers settled around his, his heart gave a solid thump against his ribs.
“Chloe and Nicole are at the bar.” He pointed across the sea of undulating dancers.
Olivia muttered something about tall people and allowed him to lead the way. Chloe greeted him like a long-lost friend, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Oooh, you’re so tall!”
“Same height I’ve been all day,” he countered mildly, extricating himself. He didn’t mind attractive women draping themselves over him, but he preferred it if they weren’t drunk.
“Ha, you’re funny.” She gave him a glassy-eyed stare. “Will you dance with me?”
“Sure, in a bit.” He knew full well it wouldn’t happen. In about ten minutes she’d need to be carried back to the hotel.
Sophie and Ashley appeared and the group shuffled to accommodate them, separating him from Olivia, who turned to chat to her sister. He wanted to join them, but Chloe was talking to him. “You know I think you’re really fit.”
“Thanks. I work out,” he replied, deliberately misunderstanding her.
She giggled and drew a hand down his T-shirt. “Silly, I don’t mean that sort of fit, but I can defo see you have muscles.” She waggled her eyebrows. “I mean I think you’re hot. Sexy.” She went up on tiptoes and drunk-whispered in his ear, “I want to fuck you.”
“You know what I think?” Keeping his body language relaxed, his voice easy, he took the frothy cocktail away from her and slid it onto the bar. “I think it’s time to stop drinking.”
“Does that mean we’re going back to yours?” Again she ran her hand down his chest, this time not stopping at his belt buckle but carrying on down until she reached his junk. Or at least attempted to. He grasped hold of her wrist.
“Chloe!” Olivia appeared beside him, looking appalled.
