“Jesus Christ. Get a fucking room,” Joey spats, pulling me in the direction of the dance floor.
“Wait.” I pull my hand out of his and quickly walk around the table. I stop in front of Reese and lean down, pressing my lips to his ear as he lifts his face to mine. His fingers curl around my arm and the contact makes me momentarily dizzy. “Keep your eyes on me,” I say and he sucks in a breath. Our eyes are locked and our faces inches apart.
“How could I not?” he replies softly. I straighten and see the lingering intensity in his stare as Joey reclaims my hand and pulls me out onto the floor which is now packed with guests.
Beyoncé’s “Naughty Girl” is bumping through the speakers, the bass vibrating through my body as I begin to move. Joey and Juls dance next to me, the three of us trying to out dance the other. My hands move up my body, brushing over my stomach, up my chest and up and around my neck as I close my eyes and let the music take over. I love to dance, especially with my best friends. My hands run through my wavy hair and I feel the hem of my dress rise a bit, brushing the middle of my bare thighs. “Go girl!” Joey squawks and my eyes flash open to see him spinning and twirling around me, as only Joey can do. For a man so tall and muscular, he can move his body as if he was professionally trained. I sway my hips and move in the most overly flirtatious way possible, hoping and praying that Reese is watching me but not having the balls to glance over and know for sure. I squeal with Juls as Rihanna’s “S&M” comes on overhead. A pair of strong hands wrap around my tiny waist from behind me and I still, feeling hot breath in my hair.
“Don’t stop, Dylan.” Reese’s voice sends a chill up my spine and goose bumps along my exposed skin. His hips move against my back as he pulls me against him, his hands slipping around my stomach. Juls’ eyes widen and she goes to reach for me when Ian appears by her side and grabs her hand, spinning her into him and dipping her for a kiss. I close my eyes and feel his hands move up my rib cage, his thumbs brushing along the bottom of my breasts as I rub my ass against his lap. I haven’t danced like this with a guy in years, in fact, I don’t know if I’ve ever enjoyed it this much before. My pulse is hammering in my throat and I can feel my face heat up from the contact. We’re moving together in perfect rhythm as I reach up and around his neck, feeling his breath on my bare shoulder. His hands spin me and my chest presses against his.
“This dress is killing me,” he says, brushing my hair out of my face and tucking it behind my ear. We continue to move against each other, his impressive erection digging into my stomach and my hands gripping tightly around his neck while he holds on to my hips. Our lips are so close; open as our ragged breathing brushes each other’s face, sharing the same air. If either of us were to move in slightly, we would be kissing.
“Were you watching me?”
“Depends. Were you dancing just for me?” I lick my lips and nod, his eyes widening before he drops his hands from my waist and grabs my hand, pulling me away from the dance floor. Holy shit. This is it. I’m actually going to have slutty wedding sex with the hottest guy on the planet. I inwardly high-five myself as we move quickly between the guests.
I follow closely behind him, my heels preventing the faster walking that I would have preferred as we move down the staircase and down the hallway that leads to the bathrooms. My chest is rising and falling rapidly and my nervous energy has kicked in, causing me to practically bounce on my feet. He pushes the men’s room door open and drops my hand.
“Wait here.” Disappearing behind the door, I stand outside the men’s room and pray to God that no one was in there. I’m so wound up right now, I can’t imagine what would happen if we didn’t follow through with this. I’ve never felt this turned on in my life.
I lick my dry lips as he opens the door and smiles. “You don’t mind a bit of an audience do you?”
My eyes widen and I swallow loudly, seeing a small smirk form on his lips. “I hope you’re joking.” I’m not having sex in front of people. No fucking way.
“I am. Come on.” He grabs my hand but I stay firmly planted in the doorway.
“You don’t have a girlfriend, do you? Because if we’re about to do what I think we’re about to do, it’s not happening if you have one.”
He raises his eyebrows at me, seemingly unprepared for that justified question. “No, no girlfriend. I haven’t had one of those since college.” He tugs me against his chest. “Any more questions before I ravage you?”