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“Do you want some more bubbly – or your cake?” he offered and she hesitated, nodding. “Perfect. Let’s indulge in a little sugar then for my sweet wife…”
They parted and both took their seats as he refilled her glass silently. Neither said a thing as they ate their cake, washing it down… and minutes later, Killian was pulling her to dance with him once more.
“I like this a lot,” he chuckled. “A little dancing? A little cake and booze? Then more dancing…”
“I love buttercream frosting that they use on birthday cakes,” she admitted, smiling at him. “This was perfect and probably better than a wedding cake. Those are all white, fancy, and proper looking… and birthday cakes have frosting balloons and sprinkles.”
“I’m a sprinkles-kinda-guy myself…” he laughed softly. “I could do without the cake. That’s only a carrier for the best parts – the frosting and sprinkles.”
She laughed easily and lay her head against his shoulder again, sighing happily – just before he pulled back and hesitated.
“Is it warm in here or is it just me?”
“No, I’m comfortable,” she admitted… and was shocked as he dropped his hands and yanked off his t-shirt, before pulling her close and dancing with her again… without another word.
“Much better,” he said simply – and kept dancing – while her heart was hammering in her chest like a jackhammer against pavement. She was tense in his arms and felt weird dancing with him, certainly not wanting to put her cheek against his shoulder again… only to hear him sigh as he leaned against her shoulder.
Maybe he really liked this? Maybe it was innocent, and he was just warm, because she certainly felt that way now in response…
Moments later, she lay her cheek against his shoulder and heard him sigh once more… yet they still danced and held each other, like it was nothing.
She was trying not to notice how trim his arms and waist were – nor how her fingers wanted to trace the differences between them. Her arms certainly didn’t have nice biceps like he did, nor did she want to admit that she was counting the freckles on his shoulder that was really close to her face. She thought about telling him to wear sunblock more, but that would only admit that she was looking at his skin… and whatever happened to her thoughts about how the body was a shell? An armor for her soul?
… And then she felt it.
A faint whisper of breath against her neck.
“What are you doing?” she strangled out nervously.
“Smelling your perfume,” he said simply. “You smell nice.”
“It’s soap. I don’t wear perfume.”
“You still smell nice…” he chuckled softly. “Relax.”
His breath caressed her skin again as his hands slowly rubbed her lower back, causing her to shiver in awareness.
“No kissing,” she reminded him distractedly.
“Nope. No kissing,” he confirmed. “We’re just dancing, and I just wanted to hold you close so I could breathe you in. What kind of soap is this anyhow?”
“Dove.”
“My favorite,” he whispered… and she distinctly felt his lips against her throat, touching her.
“No kissing,” she reminded him pointedly, closing her eyes at the sensation.
“I’m not kissing you,” he began. “You asked me not to – and I promised I wouldn’t. Kissing is done on the lips, and mine are nowhere near yours right now… unless you feel something against your lips?”
“No…”
“See? Then we are good.”
His lips brushed against her throat again – and this time she distinctly felt him kiss her skin several times as he pulled the collar of her polo shirt aside…
“Killian…”
“No kissing,” he promised softly – and licked her throat delicately before grazing his teeth against the skin, causing her to shiver wildly in his arms. “Still not kissing you…”
