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The friendly blue eyes turned icy. “Since I grew up. Something you apparently haven’t experienced.”
Dex frowned. He’d never experienced anything but friendliness—granted in an only-as-long-as-he-was-useful kind of way—from anyone in school, either.
“I’ll watch out for Zoe,” he vowed.
The redhead, Julie according to her necklace, gave a little sigh. Her eyes melted and she raised an amused brow. “Still crushing hard, hmm?”
Dex started to deny it. The Zoe stepped off the elevator. His heart did its usual happy dance at the sight of her. So did his dick when the full impact of her appearance hit him. She was dressed for the night, as in, her dress looked like a tiny little nighty. Short, strappy and sexy as hell. The black silky fabric shot with shimmer draped lovingly over her curves.
“Yep, crushing for sure,” Julie answered her own question.
Dex ignored the redhead. He thought he murmured his excuses as he walked away but he wasn’t sure. All he knew was Zoe was here and, thanks be to heaven, she was his for the night.
“Ready?” he asked as he reached her, only having to shove two guys aside on the way over.
“Are you sure you want to go to this stupid reunion dinner?” she asked, one hand smoothing over the lapel of the sport jacket he’d thrown on over his T-shirt. “Maybe instead you’d like to find somewhere private and share a few secrets?”
Secrets? Pulse racing, Dex scanned her face. Did she know? There was no suspicion in her eyes, just amusement. Still, his mind raced to the lie he was telling by going through with their rendezvous. He had to tell her. He should tell her now.
But he couldn’t. He had a chance at his dream night. Well, not exactly a dream since his fantasies usually revolved around Zoe calling his name during well-lit kinky sex. But this was as close to his fantasy as he might ever get. Zoe wanted her mystery guy. Not her geeky old friend. Between that and her probable fury if she found out he’d deceived her, he was sure telling her the truth was a one-way ticket to the end.
So he contented himself by smoothing his palm over her shoulder and down her back. Her skin was warmer, silkier, than the fabric of her tiny dress.
Later tonight, he’d get to run his tongue over that skin. Every delicious inch of it.
Holding tight to that thought, he gave Zoe an easy smile and shook his head.
“Well, it’s not like I’d attend my own reunion . Might as well do yours and see what it’s like,” he said as he led her into the ballroom.
An hour later, he wished he’d taken her up on the invitation to skip out. “Is all the reunion stuff this boring?” he murmured in her ear as he pulled out her chair for dinner.
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a wicked grin as she slid gracefully into the seat and shot him a naughty look over her shoulder. “Kissing ass, lying and barely veiled insults are only the highlights. Wait until they start the speeches about the good old days.”
Before he could grab her hand and pull her out of the room, others joined their table. Trapped by the manners his mother had nagged into him, Dex sank into his chair with a grimace.
Resigned to polite small talk, he made Zoe laugh and kept her at ease as their table filled up and dinner was served. All the while, he fantasized about how she’d look later, when he could strip her out of that dress. Imagination was key, he knew, since he’d set the room up to be totally dark, with only a ten-watt bulb in the bathroom for safety.
Considering whether he could talk Zoe into blindfolded sex, he decided to toss a couple of candles into his bag.
Then he almost choked on his bite of chicken. A foot slid up his calf. A teasing, tempting, bare female foot. He glanced at the guy sitting to his left and refused to consider it might be his.
His gaze flew to Zoe’s.
“Hungry?” she asked, her eyes innocent, her tone bland.
“Starving,” he admitted. And just a little confused. Was Zoe playing footsie with him? And didn’t she have a date later with…him?
“You should eat,” she said huskily, leaning toward him so her dress gaped in a way that made his brain go numb. “You need your energy. Who knows what kind of craziness you’ll have to deal with later.”
“Later?”
“Yes, later.” She trailed her fingers, just the tips, over the back of his hand. “You’ve been putting out one fire after another, remember? Your sweet granny might organize a panty raid or something.”
“Right, that kind of craziness.” Dex’s brain told him her comment had been innocent. His instincts told him she was playing with him. Before he could call her on it there was a loud squeal as someone turned on the microphone.
