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A whimper rolled from her to him as she dug her fingers into his shirt, anchoring them closer together. More, her body chanted. Any thought of self-preservation dried up and floated away like a fallen leaf in the wind.
He bit her lower lip as he broke the kiss. When his eyes locked on hers, they swirled with heat and a desire of his own. It took a few charged seconds before she realized where they were and heard all the catcalls and cheers that came from those around them.
“About time,” Wendy hooted as she walked up beside her, grinning from ear to ear. “I swear all this tension between the two of you was making it so I needed to step outside and cool off.”
Mitchell pulled her closer and tucked her against him. Hope didn’t fight him on it, she wanted to be pressed to him. He was so warm and damn it, he smelled so good.
If she wasn’t so wrapped up in her own business, she could easily see herself turning into any of the groupies this man had just to get a glimpse of a simple smile. But no, she couldn’t and wouldn’t go down that road again. She’d nearly given it all up for a man before.
He dipped his head to brush a kiss along her forehead. “I knocked your crown off.”
Damn if the man didn’t sound proud of that fact. And he should be.
Taking it from Alistair, Mitchell gave her a small, private grin as he set the dilapidated paper crown again on her head. One of its two accordion antennae was falling off but she didn’t care. The way Mitchell was holding it in his hands made her wonder if this wasn’t an actual dream and he was about to place a real one on her head.
Even though she wasn’t pressed to his side at the moment, his heat still surrounded her and she watched him as her crown, which she’d made earlier with David before he’d gone upstairs, was replaced on her head. She tipped her head ever so slightly in thanks, willing her body to calm down.
It wasn’t working.
And it went off the rails even further when he tugged her to sit beside him on the loveseat. This time, when he draped his arm along the back, he threaded his fingers into her hair. Playing with it. Giving her small tugs every so often.
She gulped and realized that everyone still watched them.
“Surely there’s more music to be sung.” She gave Erick a pointed look.
He held up his hands. “I’m looking for something fast that won’t make some of us in the room tempted to do the horizontal mambo.”
Fingertips skated along the nape of her neck.
“Any music works for that, Erick.” Mitchell’s comment had her squeezing her legs together.
Sonya tucked some red hair behind her ear and mouthed, “Oh my God!”
Beside her, Mitchell chuckled and Hope longed to hide in a corner. She wasn’t typically the center of attention. At least, not in these types of situations.
Mitchell, it seemed, didn’t have the slightest problem with it because he smiled down at her. “What do you think about that, Flykra? Only some kind of music or any?”
Seriously, how the hell was she supposed to concentrate and give a halfway intelligent answer when his slight touches were driving her insane? She wanted to climb him like a tree and indulge in every single fantasy she’d ever had, and some she might come up with later.
But she’d faced a lot of things in her day and she wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. Which is exactly what this is.
Steeling herself not to freak out about touching him, Hope placed her hand on his thigh, like it was something she did every day, her fingers brushing the inner part. His body tensed and the grip on her neck grew tighter. Not painful, no, but dominant. She liked it.
“I think any is a stretch. I like most music,” she admitted. “But I’m not a fan of metal and don’t think I could get in the mood if it were blaring around me. Hearing para-militant, violent, and verbally offensive phrases doesn’t put me in a romantic mood. But almost anything else and I’m down.” She skimmed her fingers along his leg, like she was petting him.
“Sing-along songs?” Erick asked.
Mitchell snorted beside her and she cut her gaze to him for a brief glare. “Why not? I would assume at some point, if you have kids, you’re going to be hearing those just to keep them occupied in order to give yourselves five minutes alone.” Her lips twitched. “Or don’t you think you can get it on to ‘The Wheels on the Bus’?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “With you, the music will make no difference, and believe me, I promise it sure as fuck won’t be five minutes, Flykra.”
