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My brain is already thinking through the progression of physical intimacy. Aboutsex. If things worked out with Nathan, that would be the goal. To lose my virginity.
“Nothing more, right? We’re not going to—”
“Fuck?” His hazel eyes skim down the length of my body. “Not likely, sweetheart. But if you have questions, I’ll advise you.”
Talking the logistics of fake dating Rhys is starting to make me giggle, or maybe it’s the champagne. Just one sip and it’s already going to my head. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.
“No, thanks.” I turn to start walking, where I don’t know, but Rhys is clearly drunk or delusional, so it’s best to leave the conversation now. But then there’s a firm grip on my elbow pulling me back.
“Rhys.” I hiss, trying to get him to let go, but he pulls me against him. The side of my body to his front.
“Watch this.” He whispers against my ear. His low, sensual voice so close sends a shiver down my spine. Turning my head, I look up to find his eyes fixed on me. The shrinking of his hazel rims somehow disarms my defenses and I go with him. He sets our drinks down on a nearby table, then he pulls me out to the middle of the dance floor where a slow ballad has the couples around us pressed together and swaying.
This time, when Rhys pulls me close, it’s nothing like our dance earlier. He lifts my arms, hooking my hands around his neck. His fingertips teasing down my bare arms until his large hands find their position on my lower back. Then, he pulls me into him until there’s nothing between us. My breasts against his chest, my pelvis aligned with his. The hard planes of his body firmly pressed into mine. He angles his head down, running his nose along my temple, until his lips are against my ear.
“I’m really good at pretending, Colette.” One of Rhys’s hands drops lower, to my ass.
With dancing, I’m used to being touched. My waist, my legs, my ass. My body is a canvas used by dance partners to paint the scene required for a performance. But Rhys’s touch is different than what I’m used to and it causes my body to stiffen.
“Dancing is like acting, right? You put on a performance. Draw the audience in. Make them believe what you want them to.”
With his comparison, my body relaxes.
I slowly nod, pressing into him further.
As I relax into Rhys’s arms, I notice the torturous circles he’s making are starting to pull my core tight, send a dull ache between my thighs. They feel so good. For a moment, I struggle to remember what the point of all this is. His fingers grip the fabric of my dress, digging into my flesh. When he uses the leverage of his grip on my ass to grind our fronts together, the feel of his hardness has me gasping.
He smiles against my neck. “Don’t panic, Colette. That’s not for you. I’m staring at the busty red-head over by the bar.”
I push against his chest, putting space between us. “You’re unbelievable.”
I look up to find his lips twisted into a smug smile. “I get that a lot.”
Not wanting to make a scene, I keep myself there in Rhys’s arms. Putting some space between us, I start counting down the seconds until the song is over.
As he holds me there, I ignore the scent of him, the way his hands roam over my body. And the fact that my panties are damp?What?!That is something I’ll take to the grave.
The song is coming to an end, and I’m ready to get the heck out of here. Let this night end and pretend Rhys’s ridiculous proposal never happened.
“The answer is still no. In fact, after that horrifying experience, it’s a heck no.” I tell him.
He chuckles, not phased at all.
As the final bars of the song play, Rhys turns me in his arms, and drops his head to my neck, his lips ghosting over the shell of my ear.
“Are you sure?” He whispers.
I look up to find Nathan King staring at us. His dark eyes following our every move.
It feels odd to be in Rhys’s arms with Nathan’s eyes on me. Pressed against Rhys’s body while I soak in Nathan’s gaze, directed at me for the first time. Under Nathan’s stare, something inside me cracks open. It’s the same feeling I get when I’m on stage.
Excitement.
Anticipation.
It’s addictive. I want more.
Rhys spins me back around. “Do we have a deal, princess?”
