Damn, he had nice skin. He was wearing a tight T-shirt, and I had a handful of bare, silky skin over taught muscle. I’d never really touched Flynn’s skin before… other than when he did weird, formal shit like shake my hand, like we’d just met or something.
He did that often.
He crooked his head to hear me over the music. “What?”
I cleared my throat. “You’re mine right now,” I informed him. It came out a little breathier than I meant it, but he heard me.
He immediately looked out over the crowd, toward Elle.
“Focus, Flynn. Elle’s fine. Just act like you actually like me, for once.”
He swiveled his head back my way and stared at me. And stood there, rigid.
“God.” I rolled my eyes. “Is that all you’ve got? Forget it. I’ll find someone else.”
I let him go, but he grabbed my arm. He leaned into my ear. “What do you need?”
“I need you to be my man for five minutes and get me backstage. Don’t worry. It’s just pretendsies. I’m trying to avoid an undesirable.”
“What undesirable?” He glanced around, his already sharp features sharpening, like a dog on the hunt. His nostrils practically flared, like he could smell the kill.
“Relax. Do you know how?”
I reached up and wrapped my hand around the back of his neck, pushing my fingers into his short, soft hair… and he stiffened.
He looked down at me again, and I tugged his face a little closer to mine. “Just put your arm around me and gaze into my eyes for a bit,” I said, my lips almost brushing his as I spoke. “Or whatever you can stomach. Then walk me to the door.” I pressed up against him—and he went even more rigid.
A cold trickle ran down my side.
The martini.
He’d just spilled it on me.
I jumped a bit. He looked down and his eyes flared. I was wearing a red jumpsuit with big cutouts at my waist, and he’d poured the drink on my bare skin.
“Shit. Sorry.” He reached to set the glass on a nearby high table, elbowing some girl out of the way. She snarked at him and turned her back to us. “Summer,” he said, in a low voice, as he wiped his wet fingers on his jeans. “I’m working…”
I rolled my eyes and pushed in close again. “Elle’s not gonna fire you for being human and actually looking at a woman for once.” My lips were a breath away from his, again. I could feel his heat all over me. He still wasn’t touching me, though.
I was touchinghim.
I’d pressed my hand flat to his chest… andwow. He was…firm.
He glanced down, at my mouth, maybe. He studied my face like he was actually seeing me for the first time or something. Then he looked straight into my eyes at point-blank range, and he didn’t look away.
Well, that was new.
I curled my fingers into his shirt.
And theheatbetween us…?
Scorching.
I mean, maybe it was just me… but I felt it way down low when his eyes held mine like that.
Ooh, I liked it when he looked at me.
But I downplayed it. “And if you could look at me like you’re actually happy to see me, that might help.”
