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She looks stunning in an ice-blue gown that sits off her shoulders and hugs her breasts to perfection. It’s tight on her body until mid-stomach, until that part of her I can almost encircle with my hands, then falls into heavy waves that trail the ground around her feet. There’s a slit up the side that goes all the way to her hip.
She’s the perfect Cinderella.
Justin is in a white tux, maybe even the same one from the roaring twenties party. It makes my stomach twist in want and need. It burns in my chest when I see his hand on the small of her back and the way he bends his head to speak with her, all without ever taking his eyes off me.
I can’t handle this. I have to get out of here, before I do something we’ll all regret.
Something else, I suppose, since we’re still busy regretting my last decision.
“Excuse me,” I say to Imani, who starts at my side at the rough, damaged quality of my voice. She looks at me, surprise on her face, then flicks her eyes around the ballroom before landing on JJ, who are not so inconspicuously forcing their way in my direction.
“I need to just—” I stutter and falter, unable to get the words out. “I need a minute,” I finally rasp, and I flee in the direction of the exit before waiting for her response. The last thing I saw was Justin’s nod as he basically shoved Julia halfway across the dance floor in an effort to close the distance to me.
Once again, I’m prey, fleeing from the predator. I stumble out of the specificied party areas and find a door that looks like a closed-off sitting room before pushing inside and holding my breath.
I try to slam the door behind me, but Julia catches it and eases her way inside, shutting the door quietly behind her, then leaning her back against the wood. I scramble to put as much space between us as I can and flee to the opposite corner.
“Remington,” she sighs, and it twists the knife inside my gut, opening old knicks and creating a dozen new ones. I hate that I was named after my father and my grandfather. Bastards of the highest order. But when she says my name likethat—when it falls from her lips like a prayer—
“Go away, Julia!” I demand, giving her my back so she can’t see my face. So I’m not forced to look at hers.
Strong. Detached. Just like before. I can do this. I can send her away. I bite the inside of my cheek until the coppery taste of blood fills my mouth. I can sense her come up behind me, her breath little puffs of air. Her dress rustles with every step she takes, slithering on the ground like a ghost.
“Remi,” she says, no more than a whisper. Her hands snake around me slowly, softly, like she’s afraid of scaring me away. She lets me keep my back turned towards her, but she slips her hands up under my jacket and glides them up to my chest.
Her cheek is against my ribcage in the middle of my back, and I’m reminded how small she is. From this direction, her head barely reaches my shoulder.
She makes a gasping sound, just this side of a sob, and my resolve cracks down the middle then shatters around my knees. I twist in her arms so fast she falters, and my arm around her waist is the only thing that keeps her upright.
“Remi,” she sobs against me, but I silence her with my mouth, sucking on her lip before slipping my tongue in when she gasps. She grips onto my hair like it’s a lifeline, her other hand once again inside my suit. I moan when her tiny fingers scratch against my hip bone, and I jerk when I realize she’s tugging my shirt from my pants and her hand makes contact with my skin.
“Fuck,” I hiss against her lips, and Julia nods her head encouragingly, grasping my hand from around her waist and dragging it down her body until I find the slit in her dress.
“We can’t do this,” I tell her between kisses, hearing the words through a filter.
Julia silences me with a distracted, “shut up.”
Her skin is feverish, burning. It’s so fucking smooth where I drag the backs of my fingers against her thigh. I change direction and grip her inner knee, running my palm up her leg. She lifts where I pull, and without thought, she’s off the floor, her legs twisted around my hips.
Her ass is bare under my fingers until I find the scrap of her thong.
I’m done for.
I delve my hand into her hair and grip it at the base of her scalp to expose the glorious expanse of her throat. She moans obscenely when I trail my tongue along her jawline, then bite the curve of her neck.
Her hips are squirming against my middle, and I can smell her wetness in the air. I let my thumb slip between her cheeks, then drag it forward until I’m at her slit. She’s soaked. Positively dripping. I press my thumb into her entrance, rubbing it against her inner walls. She squeezes her muscles around me, jerking in my grip.
“You’re so lovely.Sowet. Is this all for me, baby girl?” I ask her, and she mewls with both her hands on my head, directing my mouth to dip into her cleavage.
When she whines my name again, her voice is high and tight. Is she begging me to take her, or asking me to let her go? It better be the former, because I don’t think I can stop. With a hand on her face and a hand gripping her, I skim my eyes around the sitting room we’re barricaded in and walk the five feet to the couch.
As soon as her ass hits the edge, she releases my head and reaches for my belt buckle. Her hands are swift and dexterous—the hands of an artist, used to manipulate clay. I finally look at her face, and her pupils are blown wide, her lipstick smeared across her lips. Her hair, which was beautifully arranged off her neck in a way that emphasized all those glorious fucking curls she has, is halfway down her shoulders.
She appears a spectacular mess; ravished and debauched. I swallow back the masculine pride that I’m the reason she looks that way.
Then I sigh and let my forehead fall to her shoulder when she wraps those magnificent hands of hers around my length. I feel like I’m on fire. I’ve missed this so much. I’ve missed her touch and the feel of her breath against my face.
“I need you,” she whispers, and that’s all I need to hear. I push her skirt over her hips, exposing the white lacy thong that’s covering her core. I don’t bother to remove it. I don’t have that type of time.
