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His hand still on the car door, the valet patiently waiting in the driver’s seat, I once again felt the stark intensity of Rook’s attention on me. The way he starred at me, it made me feel like I was the only person on the earth.
The sensation hooked into my chest, pulling me towards him.
He leaned down and, to my complete and utter surprise, his fingers hooked into my leggings. He slid them down, his fingers slowly trailing down the skin of my legs, leaving heat unfurling in my stomach and in between my thighs.
“Lift.”
Self conscious, I raised one foot, then the other, as Rook took off my flip-flop, then one leg of my leggings, then moved to the other leg. He worked methodically and gently—taking care so I wouldn’t lose my balance. Lastly, he gently pulled out my hair band. Pocketing it, he slid his fingers through my hair, massaging my head.
My eyes closed, my shoulders relaxed, and he tucked me into him. His body was firm and warm, his touch soothing and relaxing.
His tenderness made me bite my lip to keep my emotions at bay.
Ever since dad’s death, I’d built up my defenses, afraid to show any weakness.
But I was tired of being strong.
Of making sure Benson was getting enough to eat and taking his meds.
Of making sure Callie was taken care of at school.
Of talking Amara through her problems.
Of the constant barrage of threatening texts from Saul.
Worrying how I was going to rebuild my home.
Being the strong one.
And this—this tenderness, this care, such a small act, but it—it would be my undoing.
Brushing his lips over my cheek, he said, “You’re beautiful as you are.”
How could the man be so aloof and yet, so sweet and caring?
I pulled back, trying to keep my feelings in check. Grabbing my hand, he guided me past the line and towards the front door. Both he and the bouncer ignored the complaints about us cutting in, and with a respectful nod to Rook from the bouncer, we slipped inside.
Women in tight, tiny dresses filled the dance floor, grinding against men in button-up shirts and ties, making me more self-conscious. Soft blue lighting and strobing water lights dancing off the walls and ceiling made it feel like we were underwater. The flooring was a dark hardwood with leather furniture dotting the landscape.
The music which had been booming before, was now overwhelming. The bass moved through me, settling into my bones, as we made our way through the maze of people, headed straight for the crowded bar.
The bartender, a skinny, black man with a nose ring and a sleeve tattoo immediately gave us his attention.
“I’ll take a Patron, salt and lime, for her, and my whiskey,” Rook said.
Again, there were complaints from several people waiting for their drinks, but the bartender ignored them, quickly serving us.
“Lick,” Rook put the shot glass to my lips and a sensual buzzing raced across them as my tongue darted out. “Now drink. In one gulp.” The liquid slid over my tongue, burning as it went down my throat. “Bite.” Rook’s dark eyes stared into mine as the tang from the lime wedge sparked my taste buds.
Tension buzzed between us, heat blossoming from my belly and flowing through my whole body. The feeling spread as I watched him drink his own, his gaze still on me.
At his heated look, eyes dark and soulful, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the room.
My insides tingled, my heart quickened as his fingers intertwined with mine once more, guiding me onto the crowded dance floor. Then, his hands found my hips, his lips brushed my ear. "Close your eyes," he rasped. “Surrender to the music."
I obeyed, and the world darkened around me. His grasp steadied me as the music surged through my veins, mingling with the frenetic energy of the writhing crowd.
I let go, mesmerized by the chaotic energy in the room, and abandoned myself to live and breathe the music surrounding me, feeling relaxed for the first time since the news of dad’s death. I moved with the beat, the press of bodies against me, and Rook's possessive hold on me.
