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And then where will I be? Living on her couch in Nashville after having the hotel ripped out from under me? Working the graveyard shift, managing one of the hotels on the other side of the country?
I’m terrified of what would happen if I gave myself over to the moment, but the actual consequences of doing so may be worse.
I’m also afraid that if I open my mouth to respond, all of this will tumble out, so I simply shake my head.
“I didn’t think so,” she murmurs, turning in place and pulling my arms around her torso. Her head relaxes against my shoulder and her back presses to my chest. “Move with me, Donovan.”
She purrs my name—not that ridiculous nickname—and continues her rhythmic swaying. Only now, with her body molded to mine, I feel every little movement. It wouldn’t be so bad if her ass didn’t graze the front of my pants—and, more often than not, my dick—every five seconds.
It’s torture and heaven at the same time. I’ve never been more torn about anything in my whole life. I don’t know if I should scurry away and go find Bill and Carol, dry hump her to the beat of this music, or bend her over the nearest table, flip up her dress and defile this nice vineyard.
I close my eyes and bury my nose in her hair, inhaling her lemon scent and instead of getting lost in the music, I let myself get lost in her. With Violet plastered to my front, I mimic every rise and fall of her hips and before I know it, I’m doing something that could pass as dancing.
My hands wander across her stomach, stroking her sides and along the tops of her thighs. In their exploration, my thumbs graze the underside of her breasts. We both suck in a deep breath, and I freeze. I’d like to say it was purely accidental, but I’m not sure that’s true. Not right now. Not with her scent surrounding me, and her curvy hotter-than-sin body pressed up against mine.
She rolls her head along my shoulder and lets out a low moan. If I hadn’t been so close, I might’ve missed it completely. But I didn’t and now my dick is rock hard, and there is no way she’s missing the feel of that in these dress pants.
I expect her to pull away, to throw some insult at me, and leave. I don’t expect her to sink into me further and grind her ass into my cock, but fuck me, that’s exactly what she does.
“Donovan.” My name is slow rolling off her tongue and there’s almost a desperate plea to her tone.
She turns her head, craning her neck to look up at me, searing me in place with the vulnerability and lust swirling through her gaze.
Fuck.
I hope she knows what she’s doing because I sure as hell don’t.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Violet
I have absolutelyno idea what I’m doing, and I seem to be powerless to stop it.
Maybe because underneath the years of resentment, I want this. I want this more than I did ten years ago. Back then, I was young and immature. I knew I wanted Donovan, but I had no idea what to do with a man like him. I would’ve been completely unprepared to have a force like Donovan Fitzroy between my legs.
But not now.
His face lowers down to mine, but he doesn’t kiss me. Not yet. He hovers less than an inch from my lips and captures me with his gaze. He trails a hand up my stomach, between my breasts, and winds it around my neck. His fingers span across my jaw, and he tilts my face further toward him.
My heart hammers in my chest, and I feel like I’m on fire. My whole body aches for him. His touch. His kiss. His cock. I want all of it.
I’ve needed this—him—for the past ten years.
His other hand wraps around my middle and grasps my hip, his fingers digging into my flesh. Everything falls away as I stare into his dark blue eyes. There are so many emotions swirling in their depths, it’s like looking into the turbulent water during an ocean storm, and I’m powerless to look away.
Donovan is always too controlled; I want to be the one to make him snap. To see him wild. Savage. To see exactly what it looks like when Donovan Fitzroy pulls the stick from his ass and lets himself have a good time.
I push up on my toes, closing the small distance between us. The second our mouths meet, my body melts. I’m dizzy yet steady at the same time. Alert yet disoriented.
His lips are full and soft against mine, and I let out a small moan as I try to deepen the kiss.
Only he’s not kissing me back.
His hand is still around my neck, cradling my jaw, and the other hasn’t moved from my waist as he traps me to his body.
But he’s not kissing me back.
I abruptly push away and cover my heated cheeks with my hands. Holy shit. I can’t believe I crossed that line. I can’t believe he didn’tkiss me back. After looking at me like he did, holding me to him. I’m so stupid.
