I make my way through the throng of bodies until I’m standing in front of her. There’s no real surprise on her face, so I have to wonder if she’s been as hyperaware of me as I have been of her.
“Evan, can I introduce you to Mark Taylor, youngest district attorney of Manhattan?” Her voice is cool, but there’s a fire in her eyes that I can’t decipher. I barely manage to drag my gaze from hers to look up at Mr. Thumb.
“Hey, man,” he says with a smile, extending his hand. “I’m Evan. I don’t really follow politics. What does the district attorney do exactly?”
I glance back at Ava just in time to catch the faint wince she can’t quite hide. “It’s an elected position,” I say, managing just barely to suppress a laugh. “I oversee the prosecutors. We’re the ones who put away the bad guys.” I pause just long enough, unable to keep a hint of a grin pulling at my mouth. “When Ava isn’t busy getting them off on technicalities.”
There’s no real bite to it, just enough edge to sound like the way I always talk about her. Evan laughs like I’ve said something genuinely funny, and I don’t miss Ava’s upper lip curling a little in disgust. If he had a shot of getting into her panties, I’m fairly confident he just fumbled it. One thing Ava doesn’t have patience for is stupidity.
“Evan, I’m getting kind of hot with all these people out here. Could you go grab me some water?” she asks.
He nods, like a puppy eager to make her happy, and heads away.
“He seems… nice. Gonna head home with him later?”
“Oh, shut up,” she snaps, and starts to spin away from me, but I reach out and grab her wrist, pulling her body flush against mine.
“I’ll shut up, but you’re going to dance with me. You were clearly having fun, that doesn’t have to change,” I growl into her ear. It’s a calculated risk—she could tell me to go fuck myself. But just like at my apartment, her body language seems to relax a fraction at my command.
“Dance, Ava.”
Chapter Nine
Ava
I should tell him to go fuck himself. I’ve felt his eyes on me all night, and I couldn’t breathe with the way he was watching me, even though he was trying so hard to pretend he wasn’t. I try to run through all my thoughts from the other day about silence in the name of oppression, only the champagne has been flowing since mimosas this morning and everything is a little bit fuzzy, and his body feels so good against mine. His scent envelops me, and it’s like it short-circuits my brain.
So even as I’m trying to remember all of my very solid reasons to not interact with and definitelynotsleep with Mark Taylor, I find myself moving to the rhythm again. In my heels, my ass is lined up perfectly with his hardeningcock, and a small sound escapes me as I feel it.
I know he heard it, because I feel his grip tighten on my hips. Damn him. His fingertips sit in the same spot that had bruises all week from a similar position, and my omega responds in kind. She surges to the front of my mind, fighting for dominance. The urge to pull him away from the brunette beta bitch he came with claws at my insides. I want to coat him in my scent, make sure any other woman knows he’staken.
I shake my head to dislodge the thought. He isn’t ours, and she needs to understand that.
It’s a bizarre sensation, feeling like another sentient being is fighting you within your own mind. But that’s exactly how I feel at the moment. The fact that Mark is actually a good dancer and his hips roll in time with mine is adding fuel to the fire. My omega snarls inside me, and I feel my arms rise almost on their own volition and weave around his neck.
I’d worry about people watching, but the dance floor is too crowded and the liquor is flowing too freely. Any attention is solidly on the bride and groom, where it should be.
“You’re quite the dancer,” he says hotly in my ear.
I don’t respond, because I’m still busy battling for control against my omega. I’m afraid if I say anything just yet, the only words I’ll be able to get out will involve begging him to fuck me.
The DJ seamlessly blends the end of the song with the beginning of the next one so the energy doesn’t drop. I see Evan starting to push his way through the crowd, and Markmust see him as well, because he spins us so that his body blocks Evan’s view of me.
“Jealous?” I manage to gasp out.
“Shut up,” he answers in a mirror of my words from earlier. There’s an edge to his voice that makes my nipples harden. I’d smirk in triumph if I didn’t feel like I was literally drowning in horniness.
The reaction this man elicits in my body should be studied.
I arch my ass firmly back into him.
“Christ, Ava,” he growls. The way his hands flex on my hip, I think we might be about a half-second from dry humping on the floor.
Thankfully, at that moment, Samantha appears and grabs my hand. “Ava! There you are! Come dance with us!” She tugs me away from Mark and towards the other bridesmaids. I smile at her, hiding my disappointment. It’s her wedding, and she just saved me from making a scene.
“Lead the way, Mrs. Hawthorne!” I say, forcing excitement into my voice.
Unable to help myself, I glance back over my shoulder towards Mark, who is still standing where we were, eyes dark and predatory. My omega whines within me, but without his scent enveloping us, I’m able to push her back down.
