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“Is that so?” I purr as if I talk like this all the time. Lifting up his drink, I wrinkle my nose. “More like a divorce!” When I hear a chuckle from my cousin, I realize I spoke my observations out loud. “Bourbon?” I ask, looking at Lonely Eyes, careful to tone my words down with jest. “Really?”
I continue pointing out my discoveries and how he can’t possibly be celebrating a wedding anniversary.
My cousin agrees when the mystery man finally speaks. “It’s actually the anniversary of my dad’s death… A bad car accident a few years ago.”
That explains the sadness. It’s loss. A loss that’s cut deep.
Beside us, my cousin fumbles over himself, his hands jittering with that nervous wolf energy of his as he apologizes, but I barely register it.
“It’s no big deal,” Lonely Eyes mutters, shrugging a shoulder.
I clench my hands. The urge to touch him is overwhelming. To tell him he doesn’t need to pretend with me. Next thing I know, my hand is on his. “Is that why you’re sad?”
“What?” he demands, looking like I just punched him in the gut
I almost smile. “Like attracts like.”
I’ve known loneliness. Most of my life has been defined by it. Wondering if I’m going crazy, I interlace my fingers through his. I’ve never been so bold. Didn’t even know I could be. But the feelings swirling through me are undeniable. And so freaking right.
All I know is I don’t want them to end.
Lonely Eyes pushes to his feet, his muscled length eclipsing me in the most delicious ways. “Let’s dance,” he growls in a way that vibrates straight through me. Yet despite the order, he waits, as if to make sure I want this.
Which I most definitely do.
I take his hand and lead him to the dance floor, anticipation thrumming through my veins. Would I be bold enough to kiss him? To find out how he tastes?
I stop in the center, instinct making me take his hands and put them on my hips. They mold to my curves, hot and possessive. And then he jerks me in close and I feel the evidence of his desire. My mouth goes dry. My breath disintegrates. The long heat pressed against my belly calls to something primal in me.
“I didn’t catch your name,” I breathe, trying to get some semblance of sanity even as I drape my arms around his shoulders.
“Luke,” he murmurs. His voice is now soft, unlike the growling demand to dance. As if catching himself, as if his vulnerability is a weakness, his tone shifts back to its harsh tone. “My name is Luke.”
He doesn’t seem to realize that the rasping tone is the one that speaks to me more. There’s a rawness to it, layers that I want to peel back. I’ve been handled with kid gloves all my life. I don’t want gentle.
I pull him closer to me, knowing all too well that all of Moonlit is watching our dance. It’s a dangerous dance. Shifters aren’t supposed to mingle with those outside their pack, but dammit I can’t stop myself. I feel alive for the first time in my life.
His hands guide my hips in a rhythm against his, and as this song fades and a new one begins, my gaze drops to his lips. They look soft. Yet firm. They part on a hissing breath and my gaze shoots up. Luke’s looking at me as if he wants to devour me.
My stomach tightens. My sex clenches. I want to discover all the ways he could consume me.
Several low growls rumble through the crowd, and I know that if I can’t at least pull myself away from Luke, we need to get out of Moonlit before my pack lose their temper. “Take me somewhere else,” I whisper, trying to make the words sound like a command, but they lack any authority. After all, this isn’t like me. I’m not the kind of girl who dances with strangers, let alone asks for more. And I’m sober!
But I bite my lip, heat rising to my cheeks, and manage to lift my head high. I refuse to back down and hide in a corner. How am I ever going to experience life if I keep doing that?
And Luke is something I’d very much like to experience.
His gaze does the impossible and heats. “Quite the seductress, aren’t you?”
I lean a little closer. “I am now.” That’s a word that’s never been used to describe me, but I like knowing I’m seducing him as completely as he’s seducing me.
Luke’s fingers dig into my hips, sending darts of pleasure through my quivering muscles. “Well, it’s working. I want to taste you, Adeline.”
His hungry gaze fearlessly devours me, and I realize how illicit this must appear to the pack. Yet even if I’m squirming under the scrutiny of my fellow shifters and the uncertainty of this uncharted territory that is Luke—of men in general—I don’t want this to end.
I blush. “We should…ah…go.” Dammit, now I’m stumbling. I tug at his arm. “My older brothers could come in, and that wouldn’t end well.”
A strange darkness flashes across Luke’s face, and his eyes empty for such a brief moment that I wonder if I imagined it. He lets out a deep grunt before whispering, “I know a place. It’s not far away.”
