Dumb question. In that dress? With every curve showing? Yeah, she does.
I manage to see her shake her head no and sidestep the guy before I’m off the stairs and she’s swallowed by the crowd. This would be one of those times that Brody’s size would be an advantage, but with only myself, I use my muscle to push my way through the crowd, bumping into more than one person before I spot the brunette in the shimmering red dress.
The same man is in front of her again, blocking her path as I reach the two of them. Focusing on the prick that won’t let her move, I angle towards him but press my body into hers, effectively putting myself between the two of them.
“Here’s your drink, babe,” I tell her without taking my eyes off the guy.
Without skipping a beat, she takes the drink from me in one hand, her other snaking around my waist as she mashes her curvy body into my hard one. “Thanks daddy.”
If I weren’t highly trained to expect the unexpected at work all the time, I may have broken my neck whipping it towards her with that comment. But I don’t react. Not externally. I let it be the most natural thing in the world.
Unlike the guy now gawking at us. His mouth opens and closes a few times like a fish out of water.
I give him a friendly warning with a nod of my head. “Can we help you?”
The guy takes a moment before shaking his head, glancing at Jordan. “Your girlfriend is fucking hot, man.”
If anyone ever questioned me on it, I would swear up and down it was for show, but what I do next is for no reason but seeing how flustered I can make Jordan again.
Sliding my now free hand into the hair at the back of her head, I give it a hard tug until her eyes meet mine. Those sensual, full lips part in a surprised “O” that sends blood straight to my dick. When her eyes half close, my grip in her hair tightens, and if it weren’t for the music, I know a moan would be hitting my ears.
She fucking likes it. She may very well fucking love it. And I, in turn, love that. There’s nothing sexier than a woman who likes it a little rough.
“Yeah,” I tell the guy without looking at him. “The hottest.” Douchebag forgotten, I turn my body into Jordan’s so she’s no longer pressing only against my side. “And full of fucking surprises.”
Recovered from her initial shock, her supple body is flush to mine, closer than we’ve ever been. Nothing has ever felt better with my clothes on.
Stepping onto her tiptoes to get closer to my ear, she says, “There’s lots you don’t know, but I could show you.”
As tantalizing as the offer is, it’s only confirmation that she’s as drunk as I thought she was.
“I told you not to tempt me, Fireball,” I growl into her ear before releasing her hair and putting an inch of much needed space between us. “C’mon.”
Taking her hand, I lead her up the stairs to the second level and our VIP area. When we get back, it’s deserted, something I didn’t anticipate. I thought for sure Brody would still be here, and I’m mildly irritated he’s not. It would be easier to stay on my best behavior with supervision.
“Oh my god!” Jordan exclaims from behind me, tugging hard on my hand. “I love this song!”
Turning to look at her, Brody forgotten, I raise an eyebrow. I recognize it as a top forty song, but it’s remixed. Slowed down with the bass up, the DJ is spinning it as a seduction instead of the upbeat pop shit it should be.
Fuck.
The look on Jordan’s face tells me I’m in trouble. A lot of fucking trouble. The vixen is coming out to play if the flirtatious smile and sway of her luscious hips is any indication. And fuck, those eyes? Crystal blue and vivid for all to see, there’s nothing more penetrating than the way she’s running them up and down my body, not bothering to try and hide the heat in them.
“Dance with me,” she says, though I can’t hear her anymore over the sound of the music. I only know what she’s saying because I’m forcing myself to stare at her mouth, not the rest of her. It feels like the safest place to look.
I give her a shake of my head. “I don’t dance.”
Squeezing my hand, she steps closer to me, looking upthrough her eyelashes with an expression that makes my dick scream, “You’re an idiot to refuse!”
“Please?”
Exercising willpower is a daily occurrence for me. I’m comfortable with it. Getting through burning buildings and dealing with the public on their worst days, without having a meltdown of my own, takes a lot of resilience. Hell, some days not eating an entire bag of flaming hot chips is exercising willpower for me. But I do it, and I’d like to think it’s relatively easy.
This? Denying Jordan? Hardest fucking thing in the world, but I know I need to do it. If I danced with her, felt her body moving against mine, I’d be a fucking goner. Any self-control would bend and snap like a twig in a tornado, and I could not be held accountable for my actions.
I’m a masochist, though. Just because I need to say no to dancing with her doesn’t mean I want nothing.
Leaning down, my lips slowly brush across the side of her face until I reach her ear. “Dance for me.”
