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“How are you, Belle?” Remy asked, interrupting her salacious thoughts.
“Yeah, fancy seeing you here.” Mia smiled knowingly.
“I’m great.” Belle choked as Bently’s hand spread out over her thigh. Heat blossoming, spreading, pooling in her center.
“Is this a thing now?” Remy asked, motioning between Bently and Belle.
Belle gulped down her beer, buying some time. She didn’t know how to answer that. I hope so.
Bently tapped her thigh. “Let’s dance.”
Avoiding the question again. She got off his lap, setting her beer on the table before he whisked her to the dance floor between the writhing bodies. The volume grew louder the closer they got to the stage. Bently waved to the blond woman singing—she must be Remy’s friend Emma. Her voice was so light compared to the heavy music.
Bently jerked her body against his. His arousal hadn’t tampered in the least. If anything, it had grown. She looped her arms around his neck as he swayed her back and forth.
His breath tickled her ear as he growled, “Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. The music drowned out the squeak that had surely come out of her mouth. She pressed against his erection. “I think I have a pretty good understanding.”
“You make me want things. Things I shouldn’t want. Things I shouldn’t have.” His grip tightened.
Her body shuddered as he grasped the back of her neck, pulling his head away far enough to gaze at her.
He dipped his mouth to hers, consuming her with his kiss. Sparks and shimmers built into fireworks of need. She gripped his shoulders as he deepened their connection, stealing, staking claim. His hands roamed to her ass, squeezing before trailing down her thighs and leaving goose bumps in their wake. Lust-fire burned her from the inside out, scorching her restraint and silencing her fears, filling her with urgency. All that mattered was this moment. This need that had her ready to throw caution to the wind and burst like an active volcano.
The ground itself seemed to quake from the raw power of his touch. Her legs shook, and her body trembled. His kiss made her feel unstable and volatile. His tongue invaded her mouth in an erotic dance. He tasted like beer and sin. Risk and temptation. Tonight and forever.
He broke away, leaving her breathless. His chest heaved against her breasts. Her hard nipples brushed against his muscles, fueling her ache with the friction.
“Let’s get out of here,” he ground out as he dragged her from the bar into the chilly night. The blast of cold air swept over her, dulling the lust-filled haze enough for her to come back to her senses. Panic gripped her as he led her to his truck. What if this is just like before? Does he want me, or my body?
“Bently.”
“I know, Angel. I know.”
Despite what she’d thought, Belle couldn’t let this go any further unless she knew for sure. She wouldn’t risk it all and give her body to him without assurance. She wished with everything in her that she could be less complicated. But the fear that this would all end once he’d had her body was paralyzing.
She bit down until she tasted blood. “Bently?”
“My place?” He opened the door, his hands immediately gripping her waist.
“I—I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Okay, we can go to yours.” He leaned in.
She pressed her hand against his chest, turmoil raging inside her. As much as she wanted him, she needed to make sure her needs were clear. She’d made the mistake of giving pieces of herself away in the past for fleeting attention and false love. She wouldn’t betray herself like that again.
“No, I meant . . .” She searched his eyes in the moonlight.
He furrowed his brow. “Do you not want this?”
“I do, more than anything.”
He smiled, relief painting his features.
“But . . . unless something’s changed for you and this can be more than one night . . . I really care about you, Bently—more than I probably should. Which is all the more reason that I need you to make your intentions clear. Is this more than sex to you?”
He opened his mouth and then closed it, seemingly struggling with her question. Fear flashed in his eyes. Her hope fell like a rock in her stomach. He wasn’t ready.
