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Even now, he prods me, wanting me to take her with a ferocity that surpasses any thought beyond capturing those parting lips and claiming her for us both.
My palms climb up Penelope’s sides. I raise her arms above her head, guiding them around my neck, and when her fingers thread through my hair, I hover my nose above her skin, inhaling that sweet scent that’s amplified by body heat.
“Fast learner,” she rasps when my lips move below her ear, and I pray I’m not imagining the way she relaxes, melting into me.
I splay my hands across her lower ribs, supporting her upper body as she arches seductively. “I wish you could see how gorgeous you are.”
She shakes her head as if she doesn’t believe me, and a lazy smile graces her pretty lips. “This outfit was supposed to piss you off.”
Those wild waves tickle my nose as I chuckle. I damn well knew giving her a choice would end in rebellion. I’d counted on it, actually, and she more than hit the mark.
“Glad I didn’t mention my favorite color is black.”
We slow as the song switches to a low, mellow beat, and after rolling her perky ass into my swelling cock one final time, she turns to face me. “No one’s favorite color is black.”
“It is when you’re wearing it.”
A throb of disappointment grips me when the bodies on the dance floor thin, and I’m already mourning the feel of her when she takes a step back. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
There’s a sense of rightness spreading through my body as she takes my hand again and leads me back to the table, and my heart thunders with excitement. Consequences be damned, the second we get there, I’m going to capture that sweet, timid smile for myself.
But I’m not given the chance before Koa saunters up beside her.
“Ah, there you are,” he says with a rolling Spanish accent. “I thought you may have run off without me.”
Koa’s a big man, probably three inches taller than my six-two height, and built like a brick wall, making Penelope appear comically small between us.
Smoothing the wild curls springing up around her forehead, she says, “Sorry. I should have mentioned I wanted to dance before you left.”
What the fuck is she sorry for? He doesn’t dictate what she does or doesn’t do.
“Who’s this?” he asks, nodding at me dismissively, but the covetous way he crowds her betrays his nonchalance.
I make sure he’s watching before slowly re-buttoning my jacket, taking immense pleasure in the way he straightens his spine and narrows his gaze.
I’ve met plenty of men like Koa. All brawn, no brains, and thinks every woman should fall to her knees for him. The same kind of man who can’t comprehend cues of discomfort, like how Pen flinches when his arm snakes around her shoulders.
“Name’s Logan. Pen’s date for the evening.” A dangerous, if not cruel, smile finds my lips. “And unless you want me to tear that arm from your body, I suggest you remove it.”
When I look at Penelope, her lips thin and her eyes are throwing daggers. But Koa’s smarter than I thought, because eventually, he releases her.
“He’s kidding! Logan’s just an old friend of mine.”
Do friends grind against each other the way we just were? Because, if so, then Declan’s in for a rude awakening.
“We’re not really on a date,” she adds quickly.
I’m not sure why I let that bother me as much as it does. Maybe because I thought she was finally coming around. That, what we just experienced mattered even the slightest. But clearly, I was wrong.
“I see.” He glares at the empty shot glasses still sitting on the table. “Did you two go to college together or something?”
Or something.
I’m losing my cool. I feel it in the way my collar grows too tight, and my muscles bunch with tension, but I don’t like him invading our space, acting as if she owes him something.
I let my anger get the best of me, releasing a piece of our past the two of us have been avoiding since reuniting at Summit almost two weeks ago.
“Unsurprisingly, Penelope here was accepted to Stanford, but not me.” I hold her gaze when I finally unveil the truth. “I didn’t make the cut.”
