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Our mouths are mere inches apart. Bentley searches my eyes and says, “I can make you feel even better if you’ll let me.”
Lord help me, but I’m curious enough to see where he’s going with this. “How so?”
“Dance with me.”
I blink twice. “Huh?”
I bite my lip when he smiles. The guy has a great smile. “I said, dance with me.”
Bentley stands up and pulls on my hand until I’m following his lead into the main throng of people. As we get to an area where about a dozen sweaty bodies are grinding against each other, the DJ switches the song to Halsey’s “Gasoline”.
Bentley’s hard body moves behind mine and starts swaying to the beat. I close my eyes, dancing in time with the haunting and sexy rhythm. Bentley’s hands grip my hips with bruising force while his lips repeatedly run the length of my neck. My body is warm and pliant against his. The erection at my back is persistent and its owner groans loudly when I push into it further, giving him the friction he’s so obviously seeking. Something niggles in the recesses of my brain, telling me this is a very bad idea, but another more rebellious part tells me to run with it.
As the song ends, I open my eyes to find hazel ones locked onto mine. Alarms are blaring in my head, telling me to abort. Everything about Kingston is screaming malevolence right now. From his steely gaze to the hard set of his jaw. His rigid posture and clenching fists. If looks could kill, I’d be dead on the spot.
Another song begins, but I couldn’t tell you what it is because I’m too busy freaking out.
Bentley leans into my ear, breaking the spell. “Kingston looks like he’s about to devour you whole.”
In my opinion, he looks more like he’s about to murder me whole, although he’s definitely giving off a predator vibe.
“Uh...”
Kingston’s eyes briefly flicker over my shoulder before meeting my gaze and mouthing, Run.
I don’t hesitate for even a second. I take off at full speed, slamming into grumbling bodies in my mission to flee. I dart down a hallway but quickly realize what a dumb move that was, so I turn around to head in the other direction. I stop dead in my tracks when I see the imposing man standing no more than ten feet away, coming closer with each long stride. Kingston’s nostrils flare as his chest rises and falls rapidly. I counter each one of his steps with a backward retreat. I don’t dare take my eyes off him, but I spy an open doorway in my peripheral, debating whether or not I’d have time to lock myself in there before Kingston catches up with me. I decide it’s worth a shot since I’m running out of hallway.
Kingston reads my mind before I can make a move, so it’s only a matter of seconds before rough hands are grabbing me, shoving me through the doorway. He slams the door shut behind him, locking us in a powder room. Damn it, why am I always getting stuck in bathrooms alone with this guy?
He unclenches his jaw before speaking. “You trying to get my attention, Jazz?”
I shake my head, willing my heart to calm its frantic beats. “What? No. Why would you think that?”
He crowds me against the counter and lifts a brow in challenge. “No? What did you not understand about the fact that you are mine? The way you were grinding up against my best friend says otherwise.” His eyes darken. “You want us to share? Is that it?”
My fear is shifting into anger. Or arousal. Nope, let’s go with anger.
“No, I do not want you to share!” Hopefully that sounded a lot more convincing than it did in my head. “But for the record, what I do with my body is none of your business. Who I allow to touch me is none of your business! I am not yours!”
He grips the back of my neck, squeezing until I wince. “I don’t fucking think so.”
Kingston leans down until I’m forced to bend backward over the sink and slams his mouth against mine. I press my lips firmly together, denying his kiss, but then he bites my lower lip so hard, the metallic taste of blood seeps into my mouth when I gasp. Kingston wraps my ponytail around his fist, yanking my head back farther as his tongue pushes in. All pretenses of not wanting this leaves my body in a rush when the tip of his tongue glides against mine.
I slide my hands under his t-shirt, wrapping my arms around his torso. I pull Kingston into me, scratching my nails down his back. The faucet is digging into my spine and my damn lip is stinging. I desperately want him to feel the pain like I do. There’s a tornado of conflicting emotions within me that should scare the shit out of me, but it doesn’t. Instead, my body purrs in excitement, recognizing the same chaos within him. Our damaged souls call out to each other like a siren, solidifying this fucked up connection we seem to have.
I moan into his mouth when Kingston kicks my legs apart and grinds his hard-on into me. Every inch of my body is touching his as we drink each other in. He and I have some pretty significant problems with one another, but that doesn’t stop me from doing this. Kingston Davenport’s touch seems to be the only thing that can make me not hurt so much, and I’m sick and tired of hurting so damn much.
He rips his mouth away when I stroke his dick through his jeans. “You owe me an apology. Getting on your knees and putting that sexy mouth on my dick is a great way to start.”
“That’s never going to happen.” My laugh turns into a groan when Kingston plucks my hardened nipple. “The apology part.”
He gives me a salacious grin. “But the blowjob part is on the table?”
If I wasn’t already so flushed, I would be now. I bite my lip, debating my answer. Does the thought of working Kingston over with my mouth, knowing that I’m the one bringing him pleasure turn me on? Sure. But I don’t like the thought of giving in to him so easily. Evidently, I’m taking too long to answer because he speaks up again.
“Fine. I’ll go first—flip over. I want you to watch what I do to you in the mirror.”
It takes me a second to catch up when he stands upright. Once the meaning of his words sinks in, I turn onto my stomach, resting it on the counter. Kingston turns my head until I’m facing a full-length mirror propped in the corner. It’s one of those heavy old-fashioned ones that stands on its own.
