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It’s bewildering enough that we’re in the same club on the same night. It’s even more baffling that we bumped into each other in spite of this crowd.
Bump into each other? No. That’s not right. He found me. How? Did he see me from his VIP box? No way. Sure, he must have a view of the dance floor from there, but he couldn’t have recognized me, not in this crowd and with this lack of lighting. How did he?
And why did he help me? I thought he didn’t care about me anymore. He didn’t have to. I had everything under control. Yet he appeared out of nowhere and stepped in. He looked like he was ready to kill Jake, too. That’s not what someone who doesn’t care would do.
Maybe that’s why all of my annoyance with him suddenly vanished—because I realized he still cares. And I’m grateful for it, more than for the fact that he scared Jake away. That’s why I asked him to dance.
Or is all that an excuse and I just wanted to dance with him?
“Hasn’t anyone told you you’re not supposed to be thinking while you’re dancing?” Asher asks.
He’s right. I’m thinking too much, which is why I’m not dancing like I should. That’s not right. If I’m dancing with Asher, I might as well do it properly. Besides, didn’t I say I’m here to have fun? Sure, something unpleasant just happened, but surely I can still have some fun before this night is over.
I shove my thoughts aside, tell myself to relax and try to move more freely. Eventually, I hear the music again. I let it seep into my body as I surrender.
Just dance, Violet.
I get so lost in the music that I forget I’m no longer dancing alone. I only remember it when I catch a whiff of cologne and my arm brushes against Asher’s.
I open my eyes and find him dancing behind me, our bodies nearly touching. Without thinking, I lean back against him. My back collides with his chest. He leans forward and our bodies rub against each other, moving in sync to the rhythm of the music. My pulse quickens.
Dancing with someone else is so different from dancing alone. And so much more exciting.
With my mind emptied, my senses are more acute. I can smell Asher’s cologne and the scent of his sweat. I can feel his breath next to my ear. I can feel the rippling muscles of his chest pressed against my back. He places his hands on my hips and I feel the heat of his palms through my dress. His fingertips send a current buzzing through my veins.
I suddenly become aware of the fact that his crotch is just there behind me. If I grind my hips against him, if he rubs against me with just enough force, I’ll probably feel his cock through the layers of clothing separating us, especially if he’s getting hard.
Is he?
The temptation to grind is too much, so I have to turn to face Asher. I must have done it too quickly, though, because I nearly lose my balance. My hands land on Asher’s chest as I keep myself from falling, and as a result I see the bare, sweat-covered skin peeking from the unbuttoned part of his shirt. My breath catches.
I get an urge to run a finger down the trail of hair running down the middle of his chest. I look away, but then my gaze meets Asher’s. His dark eyes look straight at me. Piercing. Smoldering. My chest burns. I can’t breathe.
As I part my lips to take a gulp of air, Asher’s mouth descends on mine. His hand grips my arm as his tongue slips in. Its tip brushes against mine and I shiver.
His tongue caresses mine as he rubs my shoulder. Heat travels under my skin. His other hand rests on my lower back and another shiver goes down my spine.
He pulls me closer and deepens the kiss even more. His tongue pushes against my palate. A moan vibrates in my throat.
For a moment, I forget that we’re in a club, that there are other people watching, that I’m not supposed to be kissing Asher, but as I pull away to breathe, I open my eyes and the spell breaks.
Now I know how Danielle felt when her wing was ripped off the back of her gown.
Just like she did, I run. I make my way through the crowd towards the exit, my heart pounding every step of the way. My thoughts, which were being kept at bay, break through the gates like a flood and churn. One question keeps repeating inside my head.
What have I done?Chapter ElevenAsher
“Where have you been?”
The raven-haired woman whose name I can’t remember gives me a puzzled look as I reenter my VIP box.
