Her eyes narrowed. “You enjoy this.”
“I enjoy you trying to pretend I don’t affect you.”
“You don’t.”
My gaze dropped to her mouth. “Liar.”
Her breath caught, and I felt it against my chest before she could hide it. My gaze moved to her hair, shorter now, brushing above her shoulders as we turned beneath the lights.
“Why did you cut it?”
Her brows drew together. “What?”
“Your hair,” I said, my voice lower than before. “Why did you cut your hair?”
Her expression shifted, something guarded passing through her eyes. “Bad memories were attached to it.”
Something inside me went still.
“So I got rid of them,” she said.
My grip tightened at her waist. “So you punished your hair too.”
Her eyes sharpened. “I changed what reminded me of you.”
“Did it work?”
“For a while.”
“For a while,” I repeated, tasting the words.
I leaned closer, lowering my head until my words were meant only for her. “You shouldn’t have worn this dress.”
Her brows drew together. “What?”
“That fucking dress... it's making me want to bend you over and fuck you hard, right here.”
A deep blush spread across her face. “You can't say that,” she protested weakly. “Not my problem,”
“This raging hard-on I got for you is all yours,” I murmured.
She tried to put some space between us, but our bodies stayed pressed together as we slow-danced. The more she squirmed, the more she felt my stiff cock throbbing against her. A shudder ran through her body and her breathing quickened. She looked at me, lips parted but no words coming out. When her gaze dropped, realization flickered across her face before she looked back up at me.
“Are you serious right now?” she whispered.
My mouth curved. “Very.”
Her fingers tightened against my shoulder. “Hayden.”
Her gaze flashed with irritation.
“You’re filthy.”
“For you?” I murmured. “Always.”
The rest of the song moved around us in a blur, slow, make every inch between our bodies feel chosen. The music guided our steps, though I cared less about the rhythm than the way Edwina kept trying to hold herself apart from me while the dance kept bringing her back into my hands. She avoided looking at me for most of it, which only made the whole thing more interesting. A woman who did not care would have looked straight through me. Edwina kept her eyes anywhere else, and every second of it told me exactly how hard she was fighting.
When Whitmore crossed my mind again, my grip tightened before I could stop it. I leaned toward her ear, keeping my voice low so no one else would hear. “If he touches you again tonight, I’m going to have a very hard time pretending I’m civilized.”
