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He scowls at me, but then puts his hands in the air in surrender. “Sorry, man.”
“Next time, why not ask a woman if she wants to dance with you rather than not giving her a choice, huh?”
“Why don’t you mind your own business?” he counters, lengthening his spine.
“The moment you touched my girlfriend, you made it my business. Now I suggest you leave.”
“Or what?”
I take a step toward him, puffing out my chest. “Believe me, you really don’t want to know the answer to that question.”
“Look man, I’m going. Calm the fuck down.” He takes a step back, but his gaze is still alight with wanting to challenge me on this.
“Not quite far enough for me,” I say. “Keep moving.”
He waves me off and finally stalks away as my heart rate skyrockets from the adrenaline coursing through me.
“Damien?”
I look down at Charlotte, her eyes still wide, but she’s clutching onto me like a lifeline. And fuck, it feels good, like she’s afraid to let go of me.
“Hey, Char.”
“What are you doing here? Are you stalking me again?”
“I’m beginning to think that you like when I show up unannounced.” I hear giggles behind me, but I keep my eyes locked on Charlotte.
“You clearly don’t know how to sense sarcasm and irritation then.” She runs her hand from my shoulder down my arm and tries to back away, but I pull her closer to me. “What are you doing?”
“We still have an audience,” I say, tossing my head in the direction where the asshole that was just over here is standing, glaring at me from above his drink. He either doesn’t believe me that I’m her boyfriend, or he’s truly pissed that I claimed the woman he was after. Either way, I’m fine with it.
Suddenly the beat of the music registers, and so I move my hips and urge Charlotte to do the same. A remix of Shivers by Ed Sheeran blasts through the speakers, so I take this opportunity to put on a show for our audience, and as an excuse to keep touching her.
Charlotte’s face relaxes and then she begins moving with me, spinning around to give me her back. And the way her ass feels pressed up against my crotch is something I can’t convince my dick to ignore.
“How did you know I would be here?” she asks me as she leans her head against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her waist to keep her pressed up against me.
“I didn’t.”
“I told you I was going out with the girls tonight.”
“Yes, but you didn’t say where.” She eyes me skeptically. “I swear, Charlotte. Us crossing paths tonight was purely coincidental.” As the song keeps playing, Charlotte moves one of her arms up, wrapping it around my neck and swirling her hips against my dick. “I’m beginning to think you don’t hate me as much as you want me to believe.”
“I’m beginning to think that I don’t know what to think about you anymore,” she counters.
“Ditto, sweet pea.”
She spins around to face me, but still keeps her hips pressed into mine. And I know she can feel how hard I am through my slacks and her dress. Dancing is basically like sex with clothes on—well, at least the type of dancing that we’re doing. And feeling Charlotte’s body this close to mine is making me want to cross every line that’s ever existed between us.
“What are we doing, Damien?”
“We’re dancing.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I’m not sure that I do.”
“You. Me,” she says, her face contorting with confusion. “Things are getting too fuzzy between us.”
“Fuzzy isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
“It is when I’m trying to make the right decision.”
“Haven’t you ever found that some of the best decisions you’ve made in your life are the ones you aren’t sure you should be making in the first place? The ones that hold a certain amount of risk and danger, the ones that make you feel alive…” I trail my fingers down her arm and watch her skin pebble right before my eyes.
And I fucking love that I have that effect on her.
But then I feel her pulling away. “No.” It’s one word, but it smashes the smile off my face. “I…I have to go.” She releases her arm from around my neck and takes a step back.
“Charlotte.”
“Thanks for getting that guy away from me, Damien. But I need…I need to go to the bathroom.” She starts to turn away from me and my heart seizes in my chest as I watch her move, increasing the space between us with each passing second.
But before I can think, before I can ponder all of the consequences of my actions, I just react.
Reaching for her arm before she gets too far away, I grab hold of her wrist and yank her back toward me, spinning her into my chest. She gasps, staring up at me in wonder.
And then I smash my lips to hers.
Sweet and sour, the taste of whatever she was drinking is on the edge of her mouth, incomparable to the way her moan travels through her throat and up against my lips, spurring me on even further.
I’m expecting her to push me away, to slap me or shove me back. But before she gets the chance, I stick my tongue out, licking against the seam of her lips, begging for her to let me all the way in.
And much to my surprise and pure fucking joy, she does.
Kissing Charlotte instantly consumes me, the heat of our hands grasping at one another, the silkiness of her hair as I thread my hands through it at the base of her head, holding her in place while I work her mouth with my own—it’s unlike any kiss I’ve ever had.
Desire floods my groin, hunger builds in my gut, and intense need overrules my mind as I hungrily kiss and nip at her lips.
But I want more, and I don’t need an audience for how desperate I’m about to become.
Breaking our kiss, I grab her hand and pull her behind me through the crowded dance floor, the heavy bass booming like the beat of my heart right now.
“Damien?” she asks, trying to keep up with me. But I don’t answer her.
My eyes keep moving across the club, looking for an alcove or private room that we can dip into. And that’s when I run into Hayes Weston, an old buddy of mine from college.
“Damien Shaw? Is that you?” He stops me in my tracks, slapping a hand on my shoulder. I feel Charlotte collide with my back and then peer her head around me.
“Hayes Weston. What’s up, my man?”
“Nothing. Just celebrating the grand reopening.”
“This is one of your clubs, isn’t it?”
“Yup,” he states proudly. “So what have you been up to?”
Dreading small talk right now, but knowing that maybe this moment to cool down is necessary, I answer him. “Working for Goldstein Advertising. And this is my girlfriend, Charlotte,” I say, pulling her into my side.
“Wow. Nice.”
“You’re married now, aren’t you?”
“Yup. And we have a baby on the way.”
“Congrats, man.”
“Thank you.”
“Say, there wouldn’t happen to be a room around here, or little alcove we could duck into for a few minutes, is there? My girlfriend and I—well, we need to have an important conversation.”
Hayes’s eyebrows lift as he laughs. “Oh. An important conversation, you say?”
