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Of course, someone was smart as AJ would figure it out.
It wasn’t all that hard, dumbass. You’re hiding from him—in the same room!
“Honestly, yes.”
He choked on a laugh and she felt him move…closer. It was like the heat and scent of him grew more intense. He was only a few feet away now, instead of by the door. Now that their eyes had adjusted, she could easily make out his outline, which meant he could do the same for her…if she stepped away from the conference room table she was leaning against. It served a dual purpose: it helped her orient herself in the dark, and it helped keep her upright, since her legs were useless jelly.
“So…what are you wearing?” AJ asked, a teasing yet curious note in his voice.
Maeve snickered. “Something slinky, if a bit Christmassy. Must dress for the season and situation, you know.”
He chuckled.
“What are you wearing?” What’s good for the goose….
“Well, I didn’t even really want to come to this party, but I had to represent, you know. You could just let me turn on the light, and you can see for yourself. My sister says I look dashing in a tux.”
God, did she want to see that. She wanted to turn on the lights, get an eyeful of sexy as fuck AJ in a tux, but she wasn’t quite ready for him to get an eyeful of her.
“Light stays off. For now.”
“So, this is a blind date, huh?” he said, humor in his voice this time. A smidgeon of relief helped to lessen the tension roiling between them. She smothered a laugh.
“I suppose so, yes. It was also supposed to be a silent date.”
He chuckled…and moved closer. She could feel him standing within reach. At any time, she could reach out and touch him—really touch him. Just as she wanted to. Without fearing disgusted or leering looks. She could touch him, place her hand upon him and feel the hardness of his muscles beneath her palm. She could trace the lines of his chest and torso with her fingers, running them along each ridge of his abs, over the slab of his pecs. She swallowed.
She could touch.
So she did, slowly running her fingers over his chest. He rumbled, groaning at her touch. Her body responded, heating, flooding her with need. Feeling her way from his bowtie to his belt buckle, she experienced the most intense physical tease of her life.
She raised her second hand, trailing her fingertips along his exposed neck, up around to the back of his head to thread her hand into his thick, silky hair.
At her touch, he hissed, sucking in a sharp breath.
“Fuck,” he grunted. “You’re touching me, Swan. Your hands…they’re on me.” He sounded pained, as though her hands were causing him agony. She dropped her hands. “No!” he barked, making her jump. “Put them back, don’t ever stop touching me.”
She did…then moaned. God, he was like living, breathing steel. Hot. Hard.
Heat coursed through her, replacing her blood with lava, filling her core with liquid need. She pressed her thighs together, hoping to stave off the desire to rub her pussy against him…or beg him to touch her back.
But he couldn’t touch her. He’d figure out pretty quickly that she wasn’t the thin, sexy woman he probably imagined her as.
“You-you can touch me,” she offered, reaching up to grip his hard, broad shoulders. From there, she ran her seeking hands down his thick biceps, to his forearms, to his large hands. Taking his hands, she lifted them, placing them against her neck.
“From here up, touch as you like.”
He tensed. There, in the darkness and lusty haze, all she could hear was the sounds of their breathing. His breaths were slow, almost thoughtful.
“Still hiding from me, Swan,” was all he said, before he cupped her face and groaned. “I’ll take what I can get,” he murmured, his voice like smoke and fire. “For now.”
