She climbs onto a speaker. I stop short. She now has her own stage, and everyone is watching her. Including me, I’m watching her. I stand transfixed. If what just happened in my pants is happening to the other men in the room … I need to get to her before I kill someone. Where the fuck is Noah? If he’s ever seen her dance, there’s no way he’d allow her to go out alone. Maybe they aren’t working things out. I brighten up at this. She’s dancing so seductively, a guy is trying to climb onto the speaker with her. Cammie smacks his back and shouts something at Olivia — who bends down to hear her. Her dress gapes and I see cleavage.
I shove someone aside and shoulder my way through her admirers. When I reach the speaker, I grab the guy by his shirt collar before he can hoist himself up and shove him to my left. Cammie turns around to see what’s happening, her eyes growing wide when she sees me. She tilts her head up to look at Olivia — who is still oblivious. All I can see are legs — toned, tanned — I reach up and wrap both hands around her waist, lifting her down. Her mouth drops open. I make sure to run the full length of her body down my own as I lower her.
She swears at me and smacks my chest. I hold her against me so she can get the full effect of what I’m about to say.
“Do you feel that?” I say into her ear. She glares up at me. “That’s what you’ve done to every man in this room.”
It’s fairly dark, but I can see the effect my words have on her. She doesn’t like to be the subject of sexual fantasy — little prude. I glance over at Cammie who mouths, Get her out of here.
I nod and push her in front of me. She’s had too much to drink already or she’d be fighting me. The bar is packed, and it’s hard to move us both through the throng of bodies. I press her back against my front and wrap my arms around her. We walk that way until we reach the doors. My lips are pressed together as a result of having one of her best assets bumping repeatedly against me. When we reach the fresh air, she’s quiet as I take her hand.
“Where’s your car?”
“At the office. Cammie drove me.”
I swear. Her office is a good eight blocks away from where we are.
I tug her along the sidewalk, her heels making clipping noises as she tries to keep up.
“Where are we going?”
“We’re walking to your car.”
“No!” She yanks her hand away. “I’m not spending an hour with you.”
I stride toward her, grab her face in my fingers, and kiss her roughly on the lips. I don’t let go of her face. “Yes, you fucking are. I’m not letting you go back in there to get molested.”
Her nostrils flare as she glowers at me.
“What?” I say. “What snarky little comment are you going to make? Keep your mouth shut, and let’s go.”
We walk two blocks before she starts complaining about her shoes. I yank her into an upscale corner store and snatch a pair of rubber flip-flops from a hook hanging next to the ice cream cooler. Tossing them onto the counter, I reach for the nearest bottle of liquor — which happens to be tequila — and hand that to the cashier who is openly eyeing Olivia.
I hand him my card and watch him, watch Olivia. He hands the card back and thanks me without ever moving his eyes from her body.
God, I’m going to fucking kill someone tonight.
Once outside, I bend down in front of her and unstrap her shoes. She steadies herself on my back as I gently pull them off and slide on the flip-flops.
When I stand up she’s so much shorter than me, I grin.
She holds out her hand for the tequila bottle. I give it to her. She twists off the cap and lifts the bottle to her mouth, all without taking her eyes from mine. She takes a sip, licks her lips, and hands the bottle back. I take a longer sip, and then we start our long walk.
Sometimes I fall back a little so she’s walking in front of me.
“Have I ever told you, that you have the single greatest ass I’ve ever seen?”
She ignores me.
“Of course, I’ve only seen it once…”
She stops, snatches the bottle from me and takes an especially long drink.
“Can you just not flirt with me for five seconds?”
“Fine, let’s talk about you and Noah.”
She groans.
“You were supposed to be working things out … or thinking … or-”
“I am!”
I scratch my head and look at her out of the corner of my eye.
“Where is he?”
She sniffs. “We had a fight.”
“About?”
We cross the street and head west.
“You.”
My skin tingles. I don’t know whether to feel guilty, curious or happy that I’m important enough to cause discord.