How many hands did he have? She could swear the one on her hip hadn’t moved.
“C’mon, take a little more for me,” he murmured in her ear.
A full-body shiver had her wobbling on her heels.
“I’ve got you.”
Yeah, she’d like him to have her. No. Stop that. She wasn’t having sex with Rylan, she was having it in a glass. At least that’s how Alyssa had rationalized their drinks. Her friend had said something along the lines of, “If we aren’t having actual sex, then we’re having it in a glass.”
Mazey grinned. She’d had plenty of sex tonight.
“What’s that smile about?”
“Sex.”
“Come again?”
Oh yeah, she would like to come. She wiggled her ass against him again, except with their height difference—and let’s be real, the sky-scraper shoes hardly put a dent in it—her ass was in line with his knees. Well, maybe not that bad, more like his hard thighs, but still nowhere near where she wanted to rub.
“Maz.”
She shivered again, the deep warning growl doing weird things to her insides, particularly the wet spot between her legs. “Ry, take me home.”
His hand on her hip tightened. “Maz, I think you need to sit down for a bit.”
He maneuvered them through the crowd and away from the dance floor with both hands on her waist. She was pretty sure he’d picked her up because it didn’t feel like her legs were working.
“In you go.” He urged her into a booth and followed, shoving her further along the seat to make room for his big hot body. “We’ll just sit here for a while.”
He was plastered to her side—or was that her plastered to his? It didn’t matter, as long as she got to feel him pressed along the length of her.
Maybe they could lie down.
“Whoa. Hold on there.” His arm slid around her waist and kept her upright. “Have some more water for me, Maz.”
Laughter bubbled up her throat. “Aren’t guys supposed to get women drunk so they can take advantage of them?”
“Not my style. And let’s get something straight, if I’m taking advantage of you, I don’t want you in a drunken haze. I want you to remember every single second of it.”
Her gaze snagged on his mouth. He had lush lips. Lips that looked like they knew how to kiss. She sooo wanted to kiss him. Except he had two mouths. When did he grow a second one?
“I must be drunk,” she muttered.
“Oh yeah, well and truly trashed, I’d say. Good thing you’ve got a designated driver.”
“I do?” Wait. Her head swiveled, her blurry gaze searching the sea of people at Davenport’s. “Where’s Alyssa?” Her words came out a little slurred, making her frown at her tongue’s inability to work properly. How was she going to kiss Rylan if her tongue wouldn’t work?
Wait. No kissing. No sex. Unless it’s in a glass.
“Last I saw she was wrapped around Jack.”
“Oh.” She slumped down against the seat and Rylan’s side. “I guess she’s not coming home with me.”
“Was that the plan?”
She scrunched up her face trying to remember what Alyssa had said earlier.
“I’m sure Jack will make sure she gets home safely. Meanwhile, now that you’re not so wobbly, I’ll get you out of here. Maybe some fresh air will help.”
