“Cheers.” Tori giggles, waving her champagne glass in the air. “Okay, show me your hand, Jones.”
I lay out my cards and reveal four aces. We have been playing poker with the cards he always carries, and I have been beating her ass.
“Hand over those poker chips.” I grin, revealing my cards.
Her mouth falls open, and she scoffs. “Cheater.”
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Hate the game, not the player, darlin’.”
She narrows her eyes and then tries to stand up from the opposite end of the couch.
“I don’t know how you did it, but you cheated,” she accuses with her pointer finger.
“Oh yeah. How are you going to prove that?” Not a bit of me cheated. I just got a good hand, but I can’t help but laugh at the accusatory look she’s giving me.
She stumbles, and I catch her before she hits the table. She lands in my lap, and we fall into a fit of drunken laughter.
When the laughter subsides, it becomes clear how close we are. How easy it would be to kiss her. Our breaths are matched, chests heaving, and she doesn’t move, straddling my lap as my hands drift to her exposed thighs.
“I, erm, should go,” Tori stutters.
“You could stay,” I offer.
Her throat works as she swallows, and I think about wrapping my hand around it to feel her pulse beneath my touch.
“I could,” she says, but she says it like a question, not a statement.
Suddenly, the music playing in the suite seems louder, the room feels warmer, and my fingertips squeeze her bare flesh.
Her eyes flutter shut and her hips grind against my growing erection very slowly, no doubt trying to ease the throb between her thighs.
Fuck, I want her so badly, but I also can’t handle another rejection. If she woke up and regretted us again, I don’t think I could go through that again, and knowing we are going to spend a lot more time together over the next month or so, I need to be sure before I walk that path again with her.
“Tori,” is all I manage to say. I squeeze my eyes shut because looking at her is too much. If I look into those midnight blue eyes too long, I’ll break. I’ll close that distance she put between us, and I can’t do that until she’s absolutely sure. “Tell me what you want, Tor.”
She adjusts her body, causing her center to rub against my erection, and I grit my teeth.
“Tori, unless you want me to fuck you, I need you to get off my lap, darlin’, because I am a man on the edge here.”
She doesn’t move, hands planted on my shoulders, forehead pressed against mine. The thick tension that swirls around us is close to suffocating me.
“Tell me what you want, Tor,” I repeat, blood thundering through my veins as I wait for her response. For the green light to take her and claim her.
She stays silent, and I open my eyes to find hers closed, a pained expression written all over her face. She’s still, unmoving, and I know I have my answer. In a move I may live to regret, I lift her and place her on the couch beside me.
“Noah, I’m—”
I cut her off. “We are good, Tor.. Okay?” She nods her head slowly, and I hold out my hand for her. “Come on, let me walk you back to your room.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Tori
After the wedding in Vegas, I woke up feeling like a piece of shit. The worst human possible. I hated the way I left things with Noah. I flew back to London the next morning, packed up some things, and headed back to the States for Brad and Gabby’s wedding, where I’ll spend some time with my family for Christmas.
It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve seen Noah, and I am a bag of nerves waiting for him to pop up at any moment.
We have come to Miami for the week for Brad and Gabby’s wedding celebrations, and the entire week is booked out with dress fittings, rehearsal dinners, and the wedding itself. We are in a high-end bridal boutique, standing in our bridesmaid dresses that have been pinned ready for the final alterations.
