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“What would you say to me?” he asks softly.
“I would tell you to shut up and kiss me anyway.”
His eyes hold mine, and something shifts. We move from the pretend world to a real one.
In slow motion, his lips drop and softly brush mine.
Oh . . .
Our kiss deepens, right here on the dance floor for all to see.
And every cell in my body lights up as if this is my first kiss . . . maybe it is.
Because I’ve never been so swept away in the moment with anyone.
We kiss again, and we are no longer swaying to the music.
Time has stopped.
Goose bumps are all over my skin, butterflies are dancing in my stomach, and the ache between my legs has built to a tsunami.
He pulls back and looks down at me, a frown crossing his brow.
“What’s wrong?” I whisper.
“Nothing.” He steps back from me. “We should get going.”
“What?”
He takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor.
“But I’m not done kissing you yet,” I stammer.
He glances over his shoulder at me and then turns and marches down the corridor, pulling me behind him.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I’ve got something to show you.” He opens a door and closes it again. We keep walking down the corridor, and he opens another door and peers in and then pulls me inside and slams the door shut behind us.
I look around. We are in a library of some sort. Antique-looking books line the walls. There’s a fireplace and formal, expensive-looking chairs.
Henley pulls me over to a chair and sits down and rearranges me over his lap to straddle him.
We fall silent as our most private parts touch.
He’s hard. I’m soft and wet.
The air crackles as we stare at each other.
One night. I just want one night. Is that so bad?
“Kiss me,” he whispers darkly.
My lips take his, and his hands slide up under my dress to cup my behind.
Oh . . .
He moves my body to grind over his hardened cock, and I begin to build.
