Emphasis on the ride.
It takes me a moment to realize he’s resuming our conversation from before.
He’s talking about my ass.
Oh, my gosh.
That monumental ego of his is back.
I roll my eyes so hard it almost hurts. “No.” I draw out the word again. “Because I don’t do that.”
“You’ve never tried? Or you tried but didn’t like it?”
Whoa!
When did a harmless dress code conversation take such a dirty turn?
“I’m so not going to answer that, Kellan.” I cross my arms over my chest and manage to draw his attention to my hard nipples.
“Because you’ve never tried,” he says, as usual convinced that he knows everything.
Arguing with a guy who thinks he’s the living and breathing equivalent of Adonis is a waste of time. Arguing with one who thinks he’s all that and all-knowing is like banging your head against a wall. I like my head the way it is, so I’m not even going there.
I swat his hand off my ass and put a few inches of space between us. “No. Because it’s none of your business.”
“Fine.” He throws his hands up in mock surrender. “But just some food for thought. The uptight ones are always the ones that enjoy it the most. Give me a night, and by morning you’ll be screaming for more.” He guzzles down half of his beer as I stare at him.
Wait, did he just call me uptight?
I should be offended, but I’m not in the slightest.
He hasn’t hit a nerve. I haven’t tried all the things he’s tried. Maybe because I’ve never met someone who really rocked my boat and made me want to abandon all my inhibitions.
So what?
I’m not ashamed of it.
“Yeah, right.” I laugh. “I’ll be screaming all right…for you to get the hell out of my room before I throw something at you.”
“Hmmm.”
I laugh again. “Hmmm? That’s all you have to say? Did I just manage to shut up your insufferable ego?”
His green gaze pierces into me, shimmering, flickering.
Oh, shit!
I did it again.
I’ve just managed to challenge him.
Why can’t I ever keep my big mouth shut?
“No, baby. You haven’t shut me up. On the contrary, there’s so much more I can say and show. My promises are always accompanied by actions.”
In spite of all the people staring, he closes the distance between us. His hard body is pressed into me, his hand at the small of my back, holding me glued in place. I throw my head back to look all the way up, and instantly regret it. His lips lower over mine, hovering less than an inch away. I can feel his breath on me. I can feel the heat of his body. I can feel something hard against my belly.
He’s hard for me.
His tongue flicks over his lower lip. Before I realize what’s happening, his mouth crashes down on mine, wild and hungry.
I’m so taken aback by his taste, I can’t move. I stand rooted to the spot, caught up in him. The band’s break is over and the music resumes.
Kellan’s lips part from mine.
Slowly, he begins to move, his hard grip forcing me to shift with him, like we’re dancing. The music in the background shifts to a country ballad, as though to suit our movements.
I lean into Kellan, not because I want to. I have to.
It’s what this hard body demands of me.
Even though we look like we’re dancing, I know that’s not what he’s doing.
He wants me to feel his erection. He wants to know how I’ll react to him wanting me.
Damn.
I should be pushing him away. Laugh it all off because it’s something guys like him do. Push their boundaries. Check whether they can score.
And yet, all I do is let him take the lead.
Surrender control.
His breath mingles with mine. It’s labored. Scorching. It’s on my skin. Inside my head.
I want him.
All of him.
Now.
I feel someone’s presence behind me and turn sharply.
It’s Mandy, and she’s smirking at me.
“Gee, get a room. Or use the restroom. Or whatever. I don’t care.” Her voice penetrates the layer of lust rendering my brain useless.
My palms spreading across his chest, I push Kellan back. His hands leave my body without protest.
“We were just dancing,” I mutter to her.
“Of course you were.” Mandy blinks her eyelashes at me. “And I was talking to the president of China. Look, he’s sitting at the bar over there.”
Stupidly, I follow her line of vision to the old man nursing a half-empty glass of what looks like scotch, his hooded eyes buried in his drink, his expression vacant.
She was being sarcastic, obviously. The fact that I didn’t catch on immediately is a sign that Kellan’s touch just caused my IQ to drop at least ten points.