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Victor’s face purpled, and Matt saw Ellie’s hand fly to her mouth as she stifled a laugh. He cocked his head at the quickly approaching security guards as Trevor apologized profusely to Ellie for setting her up with such a douchebag. For a split second, he worried they might kick both him and Victor out, but everything was sorted out quickly, with everyone at their table vouching for Matt and making it clear he’d only been acting in self-defense. It helped that he hadn’t actually hurt Victor. Not physically at least, but his pride had definitely taken a hit.
* * *
Holy crap. Calm, in control, and protective, Matt was unbelievably hot. As the security guards escorted Victor out, the music resumed and people picked up where they left off, as if some giant, cosmic “un-pause” button had been hit. Adjusting his suit jacket, Matt sat back down beside her as though nothing had happened.
He reached out and smoothed a strand of hair away from her eyes, heat trailing over her skin where he touched her. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” She blew out a breath, releasing the tension in her muscles. “I’m sorry about him.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” He dropped his hand below the table and gave her knee a squeeze. Her knee, which was apparently an erogenous zone now, because a current of electricity was arcing between where he touched her and her core, and she knew she was wet. For him. Because of him.
So unsafe. Bad idea. Bad Ellie.
“I’ve never had a guy go all Conan the Barbarian for me like that before.”
His eyebrows shot up, and he laughed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“Why?”
He draped an arm over the back of her chair and leaned in closer. She could feel the eyes of everyone at their table on them, but she was too turned on to care.
“Are you fishing for a compliment?” The corner of his mouth turned up, humor flashing in his eyes.
She licked her lips and swallowed thickly. “I . . . no. Not fishing.” Awareness beat through her body, concentrated in her lips, her fingertips, and between her legs. God, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on just from being around someone. “Besides. I left my pole at home.” She took a sip of her wine.
He winked. “Good thing I brought mine.”
She inhaled a lungful of wine, sputtering and coughing. She thumped herself on the chest, trying to breathe, rapidly blinking away the tears welling in her eyes.
This man was going to kill her. If she didn’t keel over from a heart attack brought on by the palpitations she kept experiencing, she’d choke on her drink. Death by chardonnay. Sounded like a cozy British mystery.
He squeezed her knee again and then rubbed his thumb in circles over her kneecap. Warm tingles erupted over her skin.
“You didn’t answer my question,” she managed to croak out.
A self-satisfied grin played across his lips. “The erection joke didn’t get my point across?” She felt herself blush, because now she was thinking of Matt’s erection, and it was rendering her completely stupid with lust.
He shook his head. “What kind of losers have you been dating?”
“You know, you’re the second person to ask me that today.”
“Bears thinking about then, doesn’t it?”
She stared at him, drinking him in, still not fully able to believe this was all real. Her phone buzzed in her clutch and she eased away from him, fishing it out.
Lauren: OMG. He is sex on a stick! Why aren’t you dancing with him?!?!
She locked eyes with Lauren, who wiggled her eyebrows suggestively from across the table, and Ellie stifled a giggle. Sex on a stick. Yep. That was Matt, all right. She glanced back at him, and he was watching her with open interest. He made her feel greedy, and she didn’t want to share him with anyone. Not Lauren, not Trevor. Not even his own family. She wanted him all to herself, like a box of chocolate she should share, but couldn’t. Even if eating the whole thing by herself would leave her with a stomachache. As Van Morrison’s “Crazy Love” began playing, she stood up. “Dance with me?”
A huge smile spread across his face, and he stood. “Of course.” He ushered her to the dance floor with his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through the crowd, before smoothly pulling her into his arms, holding her a bit tighter and a bit closer than when they’d danced before. This time, though, they didn’t speak. As they swayed to the music, their bodies aligned, they simply looked at each other, and she was sure that the lust, the happiness, the tiny shadow of incredulity she saw in Matt’s eyes was mirrored back to him in her own. She flexed her fingers into him, and he closed his eyes, just for a second.
It was one of those movie-perfect moments, and she didn’t want it to end.
The music changed to a much faster Jackson 5 tune, and she shrieked with laughter as he spun her out and then back into him, before starting to dance.
And she thought she’d felt like an inadequate dork before. Because now Matt was busting out some seriously good dance moves. Not over the top, Backstreet Boys-worthy moves, but good. Really good, and right then, she knew. She was going to sleep with him tonight. If he wanted her. And she was pretty sure he did, for some reason.
The party continued, and Ellie could’ve sworn that the festive, hopeful, buoyant atmosphere only grew and expanded as the night went on. As she danced with Matt, flirting and laughing and falling in love—oh, God, could that even be possible?—a sparkling sense of hope and anticipation spiraled through her, filling her heart so full that it took up all of the available space in her chest.
