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Karen and I just shrug.
“To fucking cuddle them. Why else?” Bodhi shouts as he goes running by our table. “Fucking teee tiiime!”
“Stay there and relax; I got him,” Dean says with a chuckle as he turns and heads to the bar right as I started to push up from the table.
I watch him walk across the dance floor, weaving in and out of couples to get to the bar before Bodhi is handed a shot, taking care of things for me like he does so well.
And out of everything on my mind that shouldn’t be right now, the one thing that suddenly bothers me the most is that I never even got to dance with my date tonight.
“…and also that one time he got arrested on Venice Beach for trying to fight Criss Angel.”
“The magician?” Dean asks with a laugh as we get the last of the wedding gifts into my living room after three trips back and forth to the golf course, and I finish telling him all the reasons why Bodhi isn’t allowed to mix pot with whiskey.
Dean has heard a few of the stories over the years from Palmer, but he had no idea what caused any of them.
“That’s the one.” I nod, setting the basket of cards on top of the pile of presents in front of my couch as Dean closes my front door behind him.
“I can see that. There’s just something about his guy-liner and creepy smile that makes me want to punch him in the face. I’m pretty sure everyone hates Criss Angel.”
“Right? He just has this look about him, like he’s actually made bodies disappear—but with stabbing instead of magic,” I say with a shudder as I turn around to face him.
Dean and I share another laugh… until I realize all the gifts are inside, there’s nothing left for him to help me with, and I’m all out of crazy Bodhi stories to tell. Being with him is just so natural and easy, and within seconds of getting in the golf cart with him back at the course, I forgot everything that was troubling me and just enjoyed being with him.
Now, he stands a few feet away from me in the middle of my living room, hands in the pockets of his dress pants, head cocked to the side with his eyes on me, making no move to leave. I don’t know if I’m happy about that or not, knowing the longer he’s here—in my home and in my world—the harder it’s going to be not having him here, and everything that’s troubling me comes back with a vengeance.
All of the adrenaline that kept me going today has finally left me, and now that the day is officially over and I have nothing else to keep my mind occupied, I’m just so tired. Of worrying about everything, and being afraid of everything, and second-guessing everything. I just don’t want to think anymore. Not right now, not an hour from now, and certainly not tomorrow, when this man’s shoes will no longer be kicked off next to mine by the front door, and he’ll be gone from my living room and gone from my life.
“Dance with me.”
My heart leaps in my chest when Dean takes a step closer, pulling one of his hands out of his pocket, and holding it out to me.
“There’s no music,” I whisper, even as I’m taking a step and sliding my hand into his.
My breath leaves me with a gasp when Dean yanks me to him. He keeps his hand wrapped around mine and holds it against his chest, his other arm wrapping tightly around my waist and holding me against him.
“Pretend there is. I’ve been waiting to dance with you all night.”
With my heart pounding and butterflies flapping in my stomach, I close my eyes, and I do what he says. I bury my face in the side of Dean’s neck, breathing in the smell of his cologne as he slowly rocks us to an imaginary song in the middle of my living room. Tears sting the back of my eyes as he holds me close, wishing this man could hold me like this forever but too afraid to ask him.
“What do you need, sugar?” Dean asks quietly a few minutes later while we continue to dance, with his chin resting on my head and his hand rubbing up and down my spine.
I need to stop being afraid.
Pulling my head back to look at him, I wish I could just open my mouth and say what I need to say, but I can’t. I’ve never been a coward, and I hate that I’m being one right now. I’m tired of being scared, I’m tired of being alone, and I’m tired of not getting the happily ever after I deserve. I’m so tired of it all, and I just want to let this man give me everything I need.
Since I can’t say the words, I push up on my toes, and I kiss him instead. I press my hands to either side of his face, and I tell him the only way I can just how much I need him and how much I wish he would stay, hoping he can hear me.
As soon as my mouth is on his, it’s like I’ve given Dean the green light to devour me, and he’s been waiting all day for this moment. His hands are everywhere all at once, and his kisses make my head spin, until we both start moving at the same time. Clothing is quickly discarded in a trail through my house as we make our way back to my bedroom. My dress is tossed over a chair, his shirt and tie land on an end table, and his pants and my strapless bra flutter to the floor in my hallway, our kisses only stopping long enough to laugh when we blindly bump into walls and knock over a lamp in our haste.
Once we’re in my room, I laugh again when he breaks our kiss to pick me up and toss me in the middle of my bed.
He pauses to palm his cock at the edge of the mattress as he looks down at me lying naked on my back with my legs spread, and it’s the hottest thing I have ever seen. With the light from my hallway spilling in here, highlighting his muscles and tattoos and powerful body, it makes me squirm in anticipation in the middle of the bed until his eyes suddenly leave me to glance around my bedroom.
“Do you have three fans in here?”
I roll my eyes as I push up on my elbows and watch Dean look up at the ceiling fan above us, over at the box fan sitting on my dresser, and then at the small pedestal fan sitting on my nightstand.
“It’s called hot flashes, Dean. Don’t judge me.”
