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“Are you ready for dinner?” He breaks the spell between us.
“Do we have to move?” It slips from my mouth before I can stop it.
“Not if you don’t want. I’m perfectly happy right here.”
I force myself to step back and look at him again. There’s a touch of humor dancing in his eyes as his lip twitches. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to move further back and tug on his hand.
“I’ll let you feed me.”
His eyes break away, and he runs them down my body before sighing. “Room service sounds a lot better right now.”
A smile spreads across my face, and I lead him through the suite, grabbing my purse on the way out. “After dinner, we’re dancing.”
“Bizzy, you know I don’t dance.”
“Well, you can watch. Maybe someone will take pity and dance with me.”
“Over my dead fucking body,” he growls and yanks my back to his front. Another couple walks down the hallway and stops next to us, waiting for the elevator.
He holds me close, almost possessively, and when the elevator opens, he ushers us in together.
I meet the other woman’s eyes briefly and see her smirking. Then I drop my head to hide my own grin. The whole ride, Shaw never lets me go.
“That was so much fun!” I giggle, kicking off my sandals as we enter the suite. “You, my dear, are an awesome dancer.”
“I had a great partner.” Shaw follows behind and sits next to me when I collapse on the sofa.
“Why haven’t we danced more often?” I slur my words, cuddling into him.
“I’ve tried to tell you, I don’t dance.”
“It must have been the wine. The wine made you dance. We have to get more wine.”
“Babe, I didn’t drink wine.”
My head shoots up and I groan. “Oh shit, did I drink that whole bottle myself?”
“Every drop.”
“I’m going to feel terrible tomorrow. That was stupid, considering I haven’t slept.”
“Why haven’t you slept?”
“I thought about going to bed this morning when I got home, but I was too excited. So basically, I’ll be a zombie tomorrow.”
“Good thing you can sleep all day if you want.”
“I’ll sleep on the beach.”
“Do you want me to help you get to bed?”
“Not yet, this is comfortable. I want to talk.”
“What do you want to talk about? You’re blitzed and running on no sleep.”
“I want to talk about you. We never talk about you.”
“We talk about me all the time.”
