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What the actual fuck?
Irritation slams into me. Which is crazy because I didn’t even want to dance with that guy. But I also hate the fact that Miguel managed to scare him off so easily.
I turn around, raising my hand, but before I can jab my finger in Miguel’s chest, his hand wraps around mine, and he pulls me into his chest.
The air is kicked out of my lungs as I connect to that firm wall of muscles, the heat of his skin burning me through the layers of clothes separating us. His other hand slides to the small of my back as he pulls me into him, those long fingers sprawling over the small of my back and sending shivers running down my spine.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I tilt my head back to find those impossibly dark eyes staring at me.
“Dancing with you.”
I grit my teeth. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You asked me what I was doing.”
“You don’t even like to dance.”
“But you do, and I’d never leave you hanging.”
The image of Miguel and I dancing at the homecoming, and later at prom pop into my mind. No, he wasn’t much of a dancer, but he always made a point to dance with me.
“I had a partner. There was no need for you to sacrifice yourself.”
“That tool?”
“Tool? You don’t even know the guy!” I protest.
Seriously, how did we get here? It felt like being in high school all over again. I’d do something, and Miguel would throw a stupid comment, which would make me angry, and we’d get into a fight. A fight that later on would usually end with his mouth on mine and his hands on my body until fighting was the last thing on our minds.
Miguel’s irises darken as if he, too, is remembering this exact same thing.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he growls, and I swear I can feel that sound all the way to my core.
It was stupid and primitive, but it was like my body didn’t get a memo.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mutter, making a point to look over his shoulder.
“Oh, you knowexactlyhow you’re looking at me.” Miguel leans closer, his warm breath tickling the shell of my ear. “Like you want me to flip you around and fuck you so hard until I get that surly attitude out of your body.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to stop any noises from coming out, but Miguel’s relentless. His fingers slip under my shirt, rubbingcircles over my skin.
“Is that what you want, Red? Because I’ll do it. You just have to say the word, and I’ll give you everything you want. And you know how fucking good I can make you feel.”
My eyes fall shut, throat bobbing as I try to swallow the knot that’s formed there, but it’s useless.
I was screwed.
Completely and utterly screwed.
My fingers curl into a fist, nails digging into my palm so hard I’m sure I’ll leave a mark.
His free hand cups my cheek, brushing my hair behind my ear and forcing me to look at him. “I bet there wasn’t another man that was able to make you feel the way I did.”
No, there wasn’t.
Not for lack of trying, either.
I did go out on a few dates here and there.
