He said nothing. His gaze swept down over my face, my dress, his hella long, dark eyelashes masking his eyes. And just when I thought I was in danger of getting good and groped, he withdrew his hand from under my dress and skimmed it up my waist instead. His knuckles brushed my breast. My nipple hardened, tingling inside my bra as he lay his hand on my neck.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked. Which was kind of sweet but strange, since he’d already kissed me, without asking.
I nodded a little, unable to wrangle any words.
My lips parted just before he crushed his lips to mine, and then I knew why he’d asked.
This was nothing like those other kisses.
He shifted closer to me, tipping my head back to meet him, and delved deep. His hand slid into my hair, holding me to him as he devoured me. Slowly.
The club music vibrated through us but the club was gone. There was nothing but me and Jesse in the thudding dark, melting into one another.
I kept up with the slow, mind-melting pace of his deep kisses. I even remembered to breathe each time he pulled away to kiss my face or my neck. I sipped my drink while he kissed my ear, just chilling with my fake boyfriend, having a slow, easy make out in a club like it was no big deal, even as the shivers ran up and down my spine. My breasts ached and swelled. My clit pulsed and begged for attention. I just kept telling myself that we werebeing seen, that it wasn’t real, as much as my body protested the fact.
His hand gripped my hair harder and he found my mouth again, kissing me even slower, but deeper still. I swore my heartbeat slowed to match his rhythm, beating deep in my chest, between my legs. My fingers shook as I spread my hand on his chest. My fingernails dug into the hot, soft cotton of his shirt. I swirled my tongue against his until I felt the low vibration of his moan or growl, but I couldn’t hear it in the noise of the club. I let my teeth drag against his lip. I sucked on his tongue. I did everything I’d ever wanted to do to a man’s mouth with my own since I’d hit puberty.
Because—fuck it. What if the world ended tomorrow and this was my only chance?
I wasn’t willing to take that risk.
When we broke apart, he was panting softly. His gaze slid down my dress again. Then he said, “Crazy lighting in this place, kinda looks like you’re naked.”
I was still recovering from his kisses, but managed to get my head together enough to say, “I thought you didn’t like pink.”
His dark eyebrows drew together. “You wore this because you thought I wouldn’t like it?”
“Well... you can buy my time and my faked affection, Mr. Mayes,” I said, still trying to get a hold of my breathing. “But what I put on my body is up to me.”
His eyes smoldered, darker than I’d ever seen them.
He leaned in and whispered in my ear, so close and so slowly that his breath made me shiver. “I like you in pink.”
CHAPTER 16
JESSE
I was pretty sure I could get used to this.
All the perks of having a girlfriend, without actuallyhavinga girlfriend.
Well, maybe notallthe perks. I had no idea if that particular perk was gonna end up part of the deal. That was up to Katie, because my dick had been good to go pretty much from the first moment I’d met her, standing there in her rain-wet clothes, offering me cherry pie.
And now, wearing that slinky pink dress, the one that made her look fucking naked as she slithered around in my lap, her soft breasts pressed to my chest, her plump pink lips sliding against mine, that little tongue of hers flicking out to taste me… Christ. I was stiff as a fucking rod. I didn’t care who was looking. I would’ve sucked on her from head to toe, licked that fucking dress right off her if she’d let me.
By the time we hit the next club and walked into the dimly-lit VIP room, Katie holding my hand as she looked around, I was still trying to adjust my wood in my jeans. I really had to stop looking at her ass every time the girl got walking.
A couple of dudes at the glowing bar in the corner had turned almost completely around on their stools to look at her in her clingy, skimpy flesh-dress. I tugged her closer, tightening my grip. Couldn’t have her wandering away in that thing.
“Can we sit over there?” she asked, pointing at an unoccupied love seat.
“You can sit anywhere you want, darlin’,” Jude answered. Jude had a way of calling womendarlin’that tended to make panties drop, and I didn’t mind that he used it on her. He liked Katie. I liked that he liked her. Jude fucking hated most of the women I dated. He hadn’t said so, but I was pretty sure he thought Katie was adorable, which she was.
The only thing he had said about her, or about my relationship with her, was, “You sure about this, brother?”
“She’ll be good for us,” I said, as vaguely as fucking possible. And shewasgood for us, already. She was helping us sell music. She was keeping us entertained. She was already making this tour more interesting than it would’ve been without her. No question about that.
But as much as I liked Jude liking her, and it kinda made the egotistical prick in me get a pride hard-on when he looked at her the way he did when she showed up in that dress tonight, I didn’t want him liking herthatmuch.
