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“No offense, but we don’t know you,” Shelby challenges him.
“I’m a man of my word.” There is something about the conviction in his voice that makes me believe him. He’s just one of those people that you can read, and I know that he’s not going to hurt me or force me into anything. My gut tells me that this is okay. I can’t explain it, and I’m not sure I’d want to if I could. There’s something to this being spontaneous. Then again, it’s all him. The man standing behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, holding our sweaty bodies tethered to one another. He’s the spontaneity, and yeah, I’m not ready to give that up.
“I’ll call you when we leave,” I tell my best friend.
She surprises me when she pulls out her phone and snaps a picture of us, then points her phone at my companion. “I’ve got this as proof as to who she was with. Take care of her.”
“Without question,” he replies.
Shelby studies him for a few moments before nodding. “Call me,” she says, and I nod. I wait until they are out of sight before turning in his arms and locking my hands behind his neck. I don’t say anything as we stare into each other’s eyes. I allow myself to not think about what’s next. Instead, I live in the moment, the feel of his tight grip on my waist, and when his head lowers and his lips hover over mine, I, Cadence Wade, do something I’ve never done.
I initiate a kiss.
Without reservations, my lips press against his, committing the feel of them to memory.
Chapter 2
Trevin
Her lips are fire. Soft and sweet like candy as they press against mine. I need her closer. Sliding my hand behind her neck, I deepen the kiss. She opens, willingly allowing me to explore her mouth with my tongue. Gripping her hip, I hold her body close to mine. I don’t give a fuck that we’re in the middle of a club, damn near in the center of the dance floor. All I care about is this pleasant surprise of a woman in my arms and having every inch of her body pressed against mine.
When I came here tonight, I was just trying to get out of the house. I’m in town visiting my sister, who is recently married. The newlyweds kept making eyes at one another, and nobody wants to see all that. So I left. I told them I was meeting a friend and ran from their apartment like my ass was on fire. The reality of my situation is that I wasn’t meeting anyone. I’ve been working my ass off for the last year, and I’ve lost touch with most of my friends, well, except for my best friend, who married my sister—the same one who was making eyes at her, and the reason I had to flee. I walked around town and ended up here. I told myself I was coming in for a quick drink, and then I’d head back. However, the minute I saw her sitting at the bar, I knew I had to say hello. I couldn’t explain it if I tried.
Something pulled me toward her.
Now, here we are, her in my arms, our mouths devouring each other, and I want more. I can’t seem to get her close enough. I can’t seem to kiss her deep enough. My heart is beating in my chest, and my palms, I’m sure, are sweaty, but I refuse to let go of her to find out.
She’s intoxicating.
When the song changes to Keith Sweat’s “Nobody,” I grind my hips into hers as we move like a well-oiled machine to the beat. I can’t stop my hands from roaming over her body. My pulse pounds in my ears when she turns and places her back to my front, rubbing her ass over my hard cock. Bending over, she sways, her hips causing me to bite down on my bottom lip. It’s been a long damn time since I’ve been this turned on. In fact, I don’t know that I’ve ever been this worked up.
We find our rhythm with the slow, sexy grind of the song. We might as well be in this crowded club all alone because there is no one I see but her—just this gorgeous, enchanting stranger who’s making me feel reckless and out of control.
And horny as fuck.
As the beat of the song transitions to another, my lips find her ear. “Come home with me.” It’s not so much as a question as a demand. I’d never force her, but I don’t really want her to take the chance to refuse either. I have to have her. I need to be inside her. It’s a need deep in my gut that I can’t explain, but it’s there, nagging at me, telling me that no amount of time spent with her would ever be a regret.
