A new song transitioned in, and I gritted my teeth as my arms slid up his chest and around his neck.Fine, he wanted to dance—let's dance.
I grinded my hips to the beat, a slow and sensual flex into his.His breath hitched and I felt his grip loosen, giving me more freedom to move.The music pulsed, bass-heavy and sinful, and I let it carry me—let the rhythm decide what my brain was too busy arguing against.
I rolled my hips again, sharper this time, and he matched every move.His hips moved then, meeting mine, matching my rhythm with infuriating ease.It wasn’t rushed or frantic—he knew exactly what he was doing and wanted me to feel every second of it.Heat coiled low in my belly, my pulse skidding wildly as the space between us disappeared completely.
His leg parted mine and we were grinding against each other in a dangerous, delicious collision.My breasts brushed against his hard chest, and I bit my lip to contain the moan.His hand slid higher before it tightened around the curve of my ass, pulling me in with every bump.
“Savannah.”
My name was a warning and a plea coming from his lips—one that added fuel to the fire burning between us.
This was a mistake.
A beautiful, thrilling, utterly reckless mistake.
I became acutely aware of everything: his cologne, warm and clean; the steady beat of his heart beneath my hand; the way his gaze darkened when my fingers curled slightly in his shirt.
The sight sent a thrill through me—dangerous and intoxicating.
I leaned in, just enough that my lips brushed the shell of his ear.“You're the one who wanted to dance.”
He hummed and the next thing I knew, my back was to his chest.His fingers pressed into my sides like he was grounding himself, like if he loosened his hold even a little, we’d both lose control.
“You really think I couldn’t make you come?”he murmured, leaning in again, lips grazing the air beside my cheek.“I take personal offense to that, Savannah.I'd fuck you just to prove that point.Then again.And again.I wouldn't stop until you're a dripping, quivering mess.”
My breath stuttered.“You’re confident for someone who hasn’t been tested.”
“Don't worry, I ace all my tests.”
The words curled down my spine, warm and unsettling.Or maybe that was just his body heat.God, I hated that my body reacted to his every word, his every touch.I hated the way my skin felt too tight, too aware of his every breath.
“This is inappropriate,” I said weakly.
“Probably,” he agreed, spinning me around.His eyes dipped to my lips and his tongue swiped across his for good measure.Heaven help me.
“But you started it.”
“I was talking to Nerissa.”
“You started this the second you sent me that picture.”
I opened my mouth to deny it, then closed it again.His eyes never moved from my lips.Any second now, he would lean in and I would be a blubbering mess in his arms.
No, this needed to end.Now.
The song shifted, slower now, heavier, and I placed a firm hand on his chest.Blinking at him,
I exhaled hard and put some space between us.
Yes, space was good.
“We should get back to the table.”
He searched my face like he was deciding how far to push.Then he smirked, that familiar, infuriating curve of his mouth.
“Lead the way, trouble.”
As we walked back through the crowd, his hand never left my waist.And I hated—absolutely hated—how right it felt.
