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“What gave you the idea that you might regret it later?”
“Because you’re just too damn perfect to be true, that’s why.”
The words just tumble out of my mouth, and I have no control over them. I can’t believe this. I’m actually standing here, in a bathroom, telling this guy, a man I have known for less than twenty-four hours, that I think I’m falling for him, and that’s totally crazy because we only spent just one night together. Except, when I was with him, it didn’t feel like just any one night. He inches closer toward me until I can feel his breath on me.
“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since you left,” he admits.
“You haven’t?”
“No. And it’s been driving me fucking crazy.”
“Have you been reading one of your romance novels again?” I ask.
He chuckles.
“Is this our way of trying to make the moment less awk––”
And before I get the opportunity to finish my sentence, his lips are all over mine. He wraps one arm around my waist and hauls me in closer, placing the other one at the back of my head, holding me there. Not that he had to worry about me going anywhere though because as much as I don’t want to admit it to myself, this is exactly where I want to be right now. And perhaps it’s where I’ve wanted to be from the moment I laid eyes on this guy, when I first stepped into his car last night. I know I’ve already had a taste of him last night, but there’s no chance in hell that I’m letting him go again, not this time.
His lips are warm and hungry, his tongue masterfully tangles with mine. Fuck, I’ve never been kissed like this before. I mean, I’ve been kissed before, but not when it’s not during sex and I actually have time to comprehend what is going on and appreciate the sensation of two mouths devouring each other. As he tilts his head for more, he moves his hand from my neck and slowly trails his fingers down my chest. I feel my entire body vibrate with his touch, especially when he keeps going. I don’t care that we’re in a place where anyone can walk in at any moment. All I care about is letting him do whatever the fuck he wants before I return the favor. He removes his lips from mine and stares at me with his piercing eyes.
“If you ever walk out on me again, I may just have to punish you … with my cock.”
My eyes widen and my head is swimming, dizzy with desire and filled with deliciously wicked thoughts of everything I want this man to do to me, and more importantly, what I want to do to him.
“Now what do you say you and I get out on that dance floor, and you can show me some moves.”
I smile and he slides his hand down my side until our hands meet, and our fingers intertwine. He grabs his Manhattan from the counter, takes a rather long sip before placing it back down, and we head out of the bathroom. We make our way through the crowd of people and find a space on the dance floor. Carter wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me in closer toward him as we dance to Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off.”
As we continue to dance, I feel someone smack into the back of me. We turn around and come face-to-face with––“Rusty?” “You know him?” “He’s my ex-boyfriend,” we say the entire sentence in unison.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Carter asks.
“Since when have I ever answered to you?”
“Wait a second, you two were dating?” I ask.
Carter nods. “Yeah, for almost a year, but how––?”
“I met Rusty on an online dating app. We met up for drinks and hooked up several weeks later. How do––?”
But I don’t need him to answer the question because the reality of the situation finally hits us both and it all begins to make sense.
“So, when you were fucking me, you were screwing around with Carter, and when––”
“And the whole time you were screwing me, you were fucking Dylan. What kind of asshole does that?”
Rusty stares at the two of us, shifting his eyes from me to Carter and he says, “Hold on. Are you two telling me that the two of you are fucking each other?”
Neither of us say anything, and he lets out a laugh as he says, “Oh, this is simply delicious. And the two of you had no idea that I was the other man?”
He smirks and places a hand on my shoulder.
“Don’t you fucking touch me,” I order.
He stupidly reaches out and places a hand on Carter’s shoulder.
“Unless you want that arm broken, you better remove it.”
