I fix my gaze on the stage at the front of the club instead of dropping it to her. Frustration pulses through me at my lack of action here.
“To see you.”
“And was that so hard to say?” she questions, dropping her hand to cover mine.
I turn my head sharply and stare at where she’s touching me. With a flick of my eyes, I confirm nobody from our group is watching us.
Brielle guides my fingers apart and slips hers through the available space. I suck in a weak breath and slowly lift my gaze. Her lashes are lowered as she watches me, rubbing her lips together. They’re slick, like she’s just applied some sort of gloss to them. I tighten my grip on the railing instead of reaching up to smear it. To cover my thumb in it and suck the taste off.
“Yes,” I declare, hating the way the truth tastes. “Because when I admit these things to you, I open doors that should remain shut.”
“Fuck the doors, Roman. I’m so done with your roadblocks. You either take me to your hotel room right now, or I go find someone who will.”
My brows shoot up before pinching together. I grind my teeth together so hard they ache before I manage to pry them open again.
“Don’t.”
Brielle’s eyes burn with a blistering rage that turns me on far more than it terrifies me. I’m so screwed here, and we both knowit. It’s only a matter of how long I continue to fight this, not whether I’m going to stop. And right now, my toes are hanging off the edge.
“Then stop me. Because if you don’t, I’m going to walk down those steps and spend the rest of the night on the hunt for someone who can give me what I want. And when I do that, your chance is going to disappear completely.Poof, Roman. Gone.”
I yank my hand from hers too quickly for her to latch onto it. The fabric of her dress is so thin that when I palm her low back, I can feel the tiny strap of her panties beneath. My mind goes silent, cock throbbing painfully.
Brielle leans into me, relaxing completely, like my touch has soothed something inside of her. Like maybe she’s feeling the same way I am rather than a mere simple attraction. I spread my fingers and follow the string that’s leading to the split between her ass cheeks. It disappears while I glide my hand to the left and squeeze, growling under my breath.
“Rome.”
It’s one word. One hardly audible, needy word.
It’smyname.
I war with myself as the urge to shove my hand right up beneath her short dress threatens to overtake me. It would be so easy to delve my hand between her thighs and feel how wet that sweet pussy must be. She’s trembling now, so delicate beneath my touch.
My mind is whirling. The risk of what happens next is heavy on my conscience. I’m not a spur-of-the-moment type of guy. My decisions are almost always weighed out. Yet with Brielle, I want to be sporadic. If changing the rules just this once means I can have her to myself, even if just for one night, then I want to give in.
I turn my body toward her and glide my hand across the railing. Leaning forward, I push my chest against her shoulder and dip my head, inhaling just once.
“We wouldn’t be able to tell anyone, Brielle. Do you get that?”
“Aubrey wouldn’t share anything I didn’t want her to,” she argues, pressing her ass further into my hand.
Dainty fingers find the front of my shirt and pluck at the bottom button, teasing me. I release the railing and grab her hand, keeping it in place.
Her eyes hide nothing. They’re darker than I’ve ever seen them, blown wide with need. She’s not listening to my warnings, and I can’t say I blame her. They’re empty, heatless. If she told me that she was going to go announce to everyone on the team that I was seconds away from fucking her right here, I can’t guarantee that I’d stop her.
I’ve already jumped off the ledge.
“Wait five minutes, and then meet me outside. If you take longer than that, I’m going to come back to find you, and there won’t be any explaining that. Do you understand?”
She tips her chin, using the extra few inches she’s gained with her heels to brush her lips against my jaw. Liquid bliss flows through my veins as I feel the sticky print left behind.
“I understand.”
A loud hooting noise comes from the couches. I tense against her and dig my fingers deeper into her back while looking toward the interruption. She stays rooted in place, shielded in the shadows while Wesley drops to his knees in front of Beck and accepts the rim of a tequila bottle between his lips. His friend tips it all the way back and cheers when he gulps it down.
On instinct, I look out at the rest of the club to check for anyone recording them. There’s nothing, though. Not one camera pointed our way or fingers dancing in our direction. Returning my focus to the team, I realize not a single player hasany interest outside of the circle they’ve created. Even Aubrey, the same woman who was stuck to Brielle’s side, has slipped into Finn’s lap, completely focused on the shot he’s tipping into her mouth.
Suddenly, the need for a head start seems unnecessary. At least one as large as I was planning.
