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“And Bianca’s,” comes her smug response.
“It’s not mine, Ro,” answers Bianca with a roll of her eyes when she mistakes my silence as offended. Not that I care when I actually like calling it ours, which it is for the foreseeable future.
“Of course it is, Bee. What’s his is yours now,” she says matter-of-factly, then quirks one eyebrow at me. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Fiancé?”
My hungry gaze is on Bianca when I rasp, “Whatever she desires, it’s hers.”
We are suspended in an intense stare-off while Bianca tries not to blush and fails. It gives me the moment to take in her unabashedly and notice her messy bun, the slope of her neck bare under her off-the-shoulder-top, and not an inch of makeup on her stunning face.
This is what I’ll come home to every night.
“You’re moving in together?” Justin’s loud voice steals her attention.
I mask my expression into boredom because I’ve already shown more than I want to and can feel her friends observing my every move like a hawk. As much as I’m glad she has protective friends, I really wish they would leave and take Justin with them. I’m already regretting bringing him in the first place.
“They are.” Again, Rosalie answers before I can and explains, “See, that’s what happens when two people get engaged.”
“You have a mouth on you,” he taunts, irritation flashing in his eyes.
Rosalie is unaffected as she tilts her head and scoffs, “Next you’ll tell me I have a nose, eyes, and ears.”
I hide my chuckle at her retort and while they continue to bicker, I stalk toward Bianca who watches them with an amused expression. It immediately transforms into fervor when I step in her personal space, crowding her against the table behind.
“Miss me, kitten?” I tease, resting my hands on her sides.
“Your I’m-the-boss-of-Bianca personality? Not at all.”
Her fake indignation and breathless voice pulls a low chuckle out of me, making a shiver run down her spine. It’s as unmistakable as her intoxicating scent. A wayward curl falls into her dark eyes so I tuck it behind her ear with my finger. She leans into my touch before retreating like she realized it at the last moment.
It fills me with satisfaction that she's as affected by our proximity as I am.
“Dash,” she whispers, and I instinctively lean closer to her tempting lips.
Her nervous swallow has me tracing my finger down her ear to her collarbone, where her pulse is pounding rapidly. Goosebumps rise on her silky skin, making me want to press my mouth there and suck until I taste them on my tongue.
“Yeah, kitten?” I rasp, staring into her dilated pupils.
“You’re touching me.”
“I am.” I continue tracing my finger back and forth on her bare shoulder.
“The rules.”
“What about them?”
“You promised you wouldn’t break them.” She tries to sound strong but her voice falls into a breathless whisper.
“No touching when we’re alone,” I repeat her rule before smirking. “We’re not alone, kitten.”
Her gaze narrows dangerously but she ends up looking adorable. She tries to cross her arms in a defiant stance but the tight space only puts her flush against me. It only maddens her further while pleasing me.
“Loophole or not, it’s still breaking it,” she complains.
“Your mistake, my gain.”
Ignoring our friends’ loud presence behind us, I inch my hand lower to the hem of her thin top and slide it underneath to dig my fingers into her waist. A tiny gasp escapes her mouth but it’s enough to distract her as I shove my hand in the waistband of her jeans.
“Dash!” She moans when my palm cups her ass and I squeeze while her panicked eyes stare over my shoulder. No need for her to worry though, she’s perfectly hidden from their view.
