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Her hips had mesmerized me, and the dreamy glaze over her eyes had me wishing I could hold her all night.
I took my chances wherever I could, brushing against her while we danced or taking her hand and pulling her further into the bar. She was pleasantly carefree and had no qualms about me whisking her around, getting lost in our time together.
With each passing moment, I wanted her more and more, and it was a struggle to keep it to myself.
But when my wolf felt like it was pacing within the parameters of my body, growing beyond impatient the more I danced with her, I had to take my shot. It was becoming almost painful to resist her by then.
As the lights flashed all around us, I pulled Cora closer and peered down at her. My heart thrummed in my chest, but the courage came rushing in.
“Do you want to get out of here?”
Her eyes glimmered back at me, and her tantalizing smile told me everything I needed to know. She wanted the same thing just as badly as I did.
Cora chewed the inside of her lip while she considered it, then she nodded, and a shiver ran down my spine at the faint color in her cheeks.
“Want to head back to mine?” She asked, still bewitching me with those eyes.
“I drove, but I’ll call a cab,” I replied, already pulling out my phone and heading toward the back of the bar. “I’ll swing by later to get my truck.”
I heard Cora’s tipsy giggles as she followed behind me, and I couldn’t stop from chuckling to myself.
Before long, a cab rolled up, and we both climbed inside.
The air was nearly suffocating inside the car from how badly I wanted her, and I was barely able to think about anything else. I felt like a hormonal teenager all over again, desperate to get into bed and reach that relief I needed.
Cora sat so close to me that I could feel the warmth of her body radiating into me. Her dress rode up slightly to expose more of her thigh, and I couldn’t resist.
Testing the water, I placed a hand against her leg, letting my thumb brush against her skin. I felt her shiver beneath me, followed by a harsh swallow from her.
As much as I wanted to take her then and there, I knew it wasn’t the time or place. I didn’t need my reputation in town muddied by public indecency.
Instead, I traced her skin mindlessly, very aware of her shallow breaths and the new tension in her body. She seemed to be fighting against her instincts as well, and I had the feeling we were in for a long night of chasing mutual highs.
Neither of us could do so much as manage a word, stifled by our proximity and the unspoken want between us.
But once we reached Cora’s apartment and were free from the cab, we managed to catch our breath and pull ourselves together. I followed her inside, still reeling from the excitement of our time at the bar.
It had felt almost ethereal, like time stopped, and we were the only people left in the bar. She had been so irresistible, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew exactly what she was doing to me.
“Would you like some wine?” She asked, wandering over to the small rack containing a handful of bottles.
“Sure.”
With a smile, Cora grabbed two glasses and meticulously selected a bottle she felt suitable for the occasion. She poured some for both of us, handing me one of the glasses.
“I used to think wine was disgusting,” she said after pulling a drawn-out sip. “I refused to drink it for a long time, but when I got into my last year of university, I was invited to a dinner with some pretty prestigious people. They were all drinking wine, and I was too nervous to ask for anything else. So I choked it down all night and woke up the next day with a pounding headache and this made-up complex that drinking wine made someone classier.”
Lifting my brows in surprise, I chuckled. “You’d think that would’ve made you hate it even more.”
But Cora simply shrugged, then ventured over to the fridge and pulled out several items. “Along the way, I developed a taste for it, I guess. Now I like to have a glass if I bring home an assignment to work on.”
“How often do you bring work home?” I asked, watching as she grabbed a wooden board and started placing an assortment of cheese, meats, and grapes on it.
“I always tell myself to separate work from my home life, but sometimes I can’t help it. I get so invested, and I feel the need to work every angle.”
“You sound like you’re very good at your job,” I complimented her, already aware of how determined she seemed when it came to her work.
Even if it felt strange to know an article had been written about me and my business, I found myself looking forward to reading it. I was getting more and more curious about her craft.
