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O’Brien stands up, and for a moment, I think he’s going to the restroom, but then he holds his hand out to me. “Dance with me.”
My eyes dart to his face while my heart once again sets off at a crazy fast pace. My body just reacts to his command, and getting up, I drape his jacket over the back of my chair before placing my hand in his. Intense heat spreads through me as his fingers curl around mine, and I’m led to the dance floor.
“I’m not a good dancer,” I think to tell him. “I have zero rhythm.”
I’m tugged into his arms, my breasts colliding with his solid chest. A breath explodes from me, our eyes lock, and then he starts to move, controlling my body as if he’s done it a million times before.
Honestly, I’ve never danced like this, and I’m surprised when my feet don’t stumble.
Needing to say something, I ask, “Where did you learn to dance?”
O’Brien’s hand, splayed between my shoulder blades, moves lower until his palm rests right above my butt. “My parents.” He glances over my head, doing a sweep over the reception area before meeting my eyes again. “They loved dancing, and sometimes after dinner, they’d put on some music and teach me how to dance.”
A smile widens over my face when I picture a teenage version of O’Brien dancing with his mom. “You miss them a lot.”
He just nods, his eyes scanning the area again.
My gaze moves to where my hand rests on his shoulder, then it hits – I’m standing in his arms, and nothing has ever felt more perfect.
O’Brien
My muscles strain from holding myself back so I don’t crush JJ to my chest.
With the heels she’s wearing, her head would fit perfectly beneath my chin.
My gaze returns to her, and with her eyes on my shoulder, I get a moment to take in her delicate features, her high cheekbones, her button nose, her mouth that’s made for long nights of kissing. My eyes lower to her neck, and my mouth waters to sink my teeth into her skin, to feel her pulse race against my tongue.
Lower still, the soft swells of her cleavage have images of her breasts rising and falling in desperate breaths as I take her hard and deep.
You’re at a fucking wedding. Getting a hard-on on the damn dance floor is not ideal.
When the song ends, JJ’s hand slips from my shoulder to my bicep, then she gestures to the side of the reception area. “These shoes are killing me. I’ll be right back.”
There’s no fucking way I’m leaving her alone. Fuck, I’d probably stand guard outside the restroom.
Christ, I need to take it down a notch. She’ll find out how I feel about her if I don’t control my emotions.
Following JJ to the side where it’s darker, I’m thinking this would be a perfect little corner to fuck her while the wedding guests continue their celebrations, oblivious to me sinking deep into JJ's tight pussy. Christ, she’s so fucking petite she’ll probably struggle to take all of me.
Stop!
JJ places her hand on my bicep again, and leaning on me, she steps out of the heels. The moment her feet touch the grass, she moans, “Oh, God.”
Oh. Fuck.
Her eyes drift shut, and her lips part as ecstasy washes over her face. A low hum of satisfaction from her has my cock going rock hard and my pulse dangerously speeding up.
She wiggles her toes, another wave of ecstasy making her look like a wet dream. “Sooo good.”
Focus, Daniel.
Don’t grab her and fuck her senseless.
Focus.
Calm down.
Albanians. Drugs. Illegal arms. I start to go through the entire case, dissecting every detail until the overwhelming need to take JJ right here fades enough for me to control my desire for her.
She grins up at me, her hand still resting on my arm. “God, I hate heels. Next time I’m wearing sneakers.”
“Would fit your dress perfectly,” I tease, my voice still hoarse from the lust I was hit with. Crouching down, I clear my throat as I pick up the pair of heels. “Go barefoot for the rest of the night.”
Laughter bubbles over her lips. “People will disapprove.”
As I straighten up, I lock eyes with her, then order, “Go barefoot, JJ.”
I watch as she submits to my demand and nods. Again I’m hit with the unexpected – JJ’s submissive. Come to think of it, she never fights me once I’ve put my foot down. She carries out every demand I make of her.
Holy fuck.
The dominant part of me rises like a tidal wave, threatening to crash through the partnership we’ve built and to lay claim to what I want.
I’ve never wanted anything the way I want this woman.
Am I willing to risk the chance of losing the bond we’ve formed if she doesn’t feel the same? What if she only sees me as a big brother? What if the age gap is too much for her? What if I’m too full of shit for her?
