Chapter Thirteen
Most of the wedding guests had left after the send-off, including Harper. Although I’d tried to convince her to stay, she said she had an early flight. Besides, we both knew she’d never do something so impetuous as sleep with someone she’d just met. It wasn’t in her DNA.
And even though it was in mine, I didn’t crave the reckless abandon that came with a one-night stand. But rather the comfort that came in the arms of a friend—of Hunter. Which was why, when he’d asked me to stay, I hadn’t put up much of a fight. I was enjoying myself too much, and the prospect of returning home to an empty apartment held absolutely no appeal. In fact, after the celebratory atmosphere of the wedding, it sounded…lonely. And I didn’t want to be alone.
Evidence of the wedding had vanished, and the club was now packed with guests dressed in period costume. Hunter and I fit right in, even though the cut of his tuxedo was a bit modern. Modern but timeless. A classic.
“They say you can tell a lot about someone as a lover by the way they dance,” I said to him as we glided across the dance floor.
“And what does my dancing say about me?” He spun me out, pulling me back in and then dipping me low in a graceful move I hadn’t realized I was capable of.
Staring up at him, his hands on my back, I felt my breath catch. I thought for sure he was going to kiss me, but then he guided me back to a standing position, his eyes never leaving mine.
I didn’t know how much more of this I could take. He wasliterallycharming the pants—or panties, as the case may be—off me. Add in some alcohol and the hedonistic atmosphere of the club, and I found myself disregarding all the reasons I had for not sleeping with him. It was like his touch short-circuited my brain, making rational thought impossible.
“You’re smooth,” I said, and I meant it. He really was very light on his feet, a confident dancer who could also bust out some serious moves when the tempo picked up. “A show-off,” I added after he’d puffed up his chest.
“Sounds about right.” He peered down at me. “Does that mean you’re aggressive, always trying to take the lead in bed?”
“Depends on the partner.”
He spun me so my back was to him, his chest pressed against me, his arms caging me in. He leaned down, his lips grazing the shell of my ear. “I think you delight in torturing me.”
I liked feeling the warmth of his body against mine, the weight of his arms settling over me. And I wondered—for not the first time—what he would feel like in bed. He was the first man I’d formed a friendship with in a while, and I had a feeling that would only make the sex that much hotter.
“You’re one to talk,” I said, finally releasing a breath when he let me go.
I’d never been so desperate for someone. I thought the ache I felt for him might actually kill me.
We were facing each other once more, and his eyes were hooded. “I’m tired of talking.”
I regarded him for a moment, sensing we were at a turning point. We’d danced around this for weeks—all witty banter and flirty innuendo. He’d stuck to his promise to remain professional, as had I. But I couldn’t resist him anymore. I didn’t want to.
I didn’t say anything else; I didn’t need to. I grabbed his hand, pulling him behind me as I marched across the club and up the stairs. His hands were on my hips, tracing my curves, and I couldn’t wait to have them on the rest of me—all over me. His hands, his mouth… I wanted it all. And I wanted it now.
When we reached the room used as the bridal suite, I typed the code into the keypad, granting us access. Just as I’d hoped, it was unoccupied. The lights were off, the room lit only by the glow of nearby streetlights.
Despite the furnishings that continued the authentic 1920s theme from downstairs, the atmosphere was completely different. It was shrouded in mystery and cloaked with dangerous promises. And when the door shut behind us with an audible click, muting the noise from the packed club below, it was as if it didn’t exist.
It was as if no one else existed but the two of us.
This moment.
Hunter regarded me for a few seconds, leaning against the wall as he rubbed a hand over his mouth. Even in the low light, I could see the hungry way he looked at me. I could make out the impressive bulge in his slacks. My body quivered with anticipation.
The room was large, and he filled it with his presence. Just as I hoped he’d fill me.
He remained there, his eyes glittering in the darkness. Desire swirled between us, filling the air with a sort of tension that made it difficult to think straight. My head was clouded with lust that seemed so thick, it might choke me. And I imagined if we’d struck a match, everything would burst into flames.
“Sit.” He jerked his head toward the velvet chaise lounge.
I remained where I was, motionless. As always, this was a game. A dance. Who was the leader?
Would we fight for dominance in the bedroom as we had on the dance floor? And who would come out on top? I was eager to find out because I had a feeling we’d both be winners in the end.
“Lauren,” he growled, reminding me that he’d issued a command.
The question was—would I obey? Or would I resist?
