Ironic considering the song she loves so much is about dancing for someone. When I step back, her bottom lip is caught between her teeth, and her eyes are hooded. She doesn’t need any more instruction. Her hips start to move from side to side to the beat of the music.
Fuck me.
Her dress, her body, the way she’s focused on me, and me alone, are all going to be my undoing. This was both the best and worst decision I could have made tonight.
Up until now we’ve both respected the hell out of Nate’s rules. They’re good rules. Especially considering my past, and future, with women. I’ll be a bachelor until the day I die, and I’m okay with that. It’s how I want my life to go.
Relationships are a headache that I want no part of, and I thank the woman who gave birth to me for that.
So, not pursuing an evening with Jordan is in both of our best interests. Not only is she my best friend’s sister, but she’s part of my friend group. My family. I won’t fuck up that dynamic just to get my rocks off. But fuck, I can’t stop watching her.
I’ve backed up to the railing, my eyes raking over Jordan’s body again and again. She’s moved her hands into her hair, reminding me how the silky strands felt between my fingers when I gripped it earlier. It’s sexy as sin, and it takes everything in me not to reach out and pull her to me so I can ravish her with a bruising kiss.
When her head falls back, exposing every inch of her neck, I have to look up at the ceiling and breathe out to the count of three before returning my attention to her. Her dress is short, and her cleavage is ample, but it’s the column of her neck that hardens my dick the most.
Maybe I should have just danced with her. It may have been less torturous.
“Liam,” she mouths, and though I can’t hear her over the music, I can imagine the breathiness in her voice. I want to hear it. I want to hear her moan, and then I want to hear her scream. I want to hear every sound she’d give me, and every sound she didn’t know she could make.
Pushing off the railing abruptly, I snake an arm around her waist and pull her against my body. There’s no surprise in the form of her lips this time—she knew exactly what she was doing—but it makes me smirk. Maybe we both knew what we were doing.
“You wanna go for a walk?” I ask her, my voice low and gravelly in her ear.
A quick nod is all I need to grab her hand and drag her towardthe stairs. Worst decision I’ve made in a long time but fuck it. It’s Vegas. Stupid decisions are supposed to be made in Vegas while under the influence of alcohol.
We’re nearly to the stairs when Brody’s big body comes out of nowhere and effectively blocks our exit. I come up short, Jordan running into my back behind me.
His eyes pop over my shoulder at her standing closer to me than she should be if we were as innocent as I’m trying to appear. It isn’t long before he’s looking at me again. His head tilts to the side in question, not bothering to try and yell over the beat. Not that he would anyway, being thin on words.
“We’re just going to get some air,” I tell him, unsure whether I’m trying to convince him or me.
This time his eyebrows raise over dark brown eyes. With his hair worn as long as regulations at the fire station allow, he reminds me of a guy who would have been a Viking back in the day. One that should probably be respected.
“Liam.” I hear the warning in his voice, and I know I should listen to it. But I can feel the brunette, blue eyed beauty at my back, twisting her fingers into my spine, waiting for me to continue us on our way.
I give Brody’s chest a pat, and flash him my signature smirk. “Don’t worry man. She’s just had a rough night. We’re getting some air.”
He doesn’t look convinced, not that I blame him, but he lets us pass without another word.
The only thing either of us can hope is that his warning knocked enough sense into me that I heed it like I have Nate’s all these years. This might be Vegas, but I doubt fucking Jordan would be one of those things that stays here.
Chapter 3
Jordan
“I’mgladyouconvincedme to get the pizza,” I tell Liam, shoveling the last bite into my mouth.
I don’t need to look at him to know he’s smiling smugly. “Definitely beats that piddly rabbit food you wanted to get.”
The last thing I expected when we left the bar was food, but it was the first thing Liam suggested when we walked out the doors and onto the strip. Much to my disappointment—at the time.
My hormones were going crazy. If he’d asked me to go back to his hotel room, there wouldn’t have been a second thought. I would have jumped at the chance. Now that I’ve had some fresh air, a walk, and some food, I’m beginning to remember all the reasons I shouldn’t even be thinking about Liam and sex. The two shouldn’t exist in the same sentence, let alone actually entertaining the idea.
Alcohol. I’m blaming the alcohol for everything tonight. I know the lobby bar was only a shot or three in, but that means we weren’t sober. I can blame it.
What I’m not going to blame is the chemistry between us. Sure, we’ve been flirting hard over the last few months, but tonight was explosive. If it was anything but the alcohol, then we’re both in big trouble because I have no idea how either of us will ignore it for much longer.
And we have to ignore it.
