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Every hour that passes, the place empties out more and more. She doesn’t seem to notice or care. She’s too busy asking me questions that are far too sweet and demure to elicit anything more than a laugh and more of those stolen touches. What’s my favorite color? What’s my best friend’s name? What’s a joke I’d never tell my parents?
Until she asks what brought me here since I’m not in college. Saying I came to visit a friend worked the first time, but she pries deeper so I hit her back with the same kind of question. The kind of question where there’s a piece of it you don’t want to exist.
“What brought you here tonight? In a red dress, sitting all alone?”
BRODY
Her slender fingers slip on the straw in her glass of water and her gaze drops to the bar. At first, I think she’s not going to answer, but she surprises me. Her bottom lip slips out from her teeth, grabbing all my attention to her kissable lips before Rose answers me, “I wanted to meet someone tonight.”
“Is that right?”
“Yeah,” she nods, the tension that was there for a split second when I asked her the question vanishes and her small hand lands on my thigh again, doing all sorts of things to me that the simplest of touches shouldn’t be capable of doing. Thump, thump, my blood pumps harder as she brings her lips to the shell of my ear.
“I kind of want to go home with you tonight,” her warm breath sends a shiver down my neck, past my shoulders and doesn’t stop.
“You’re tipsy,” it’s only a comment, but there’s an invitation hidden in my tone. I give her the way out though, just in case it’s only liquid courage. “I could take you home, drop you off if you want?”
“You’re cute,” Rose whispers around her drink as she peeks up at me with her thick lashes. My grin is easy. All of tonight has been easy. I haven’t thought about a damn thing except what she has to say. When the lights turn on behind the bar, the music turns off and the check hits the table, I slap the cash down, tipping the bartender well.
I ask this sweet Rose as she climbs off the stool, standing next to me a head shorter and her gaze focused on the dip in my throat, “What do you want to do?”
She sets her finger right where she’s looking, her touch gentle and her voice nearly lost in the air between us, “I want to kiss you right here.”
That does it. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I pull her in close and revel in the feel of her soft body against mine as her heels hit the floor and she squeals in delight.
She doesn’t let go of me, and in the cab she fucking tortures me, kissing me just below my ear on that tender spot I thought about kissing her.
“Not yet, my wild Rose,” I half scold her in a whisper but as she pulls away, I capture her lips in mine. The kiss is searing, that first one in the back of the cab, with the taste of temptation and tequila mixing. My blood runs hot, my fingers inching up her thigh the way she did it to me all night. The only difference is I’m touching bare skin and the light, tender touch isn’t enough.
Her gasp fills the cab when I pull away and when the cab driver looks back at us in the rearview, I keep my gaze forward, as if nothing at all is going on back here against his black leather seat.
As if I don’t want to rip off her dress and push my hand between her legs, and rock my palm against her clit.
“You’re already hard,” her whisper comes with a hint of awe as she grips me through my jeans. Fuck, my head falls back and I close my eyes when the cab driver tries to meet my gaze again, his eyebrows much higher up on his forehead.
“Wait just five more minutes, Rose.”
“I don’t want to wait.” Her protest is adorable, but there’s no way this driver is getting a show.
“You’re killing me,” I groan and decide I should satisfy her before I come undone and take her right here.
With my fingers spearing through her gorgeous blonde locks, I mold my lips against hers, stealing her surprise gasp and loving the soft moan of pleasure she gives me when I kiss her again. Her fingers play along the back of my neck, her tongue dancing with mine and I make sure to keep my hands right where they are on the small of her waist. One move, and I swear I won’t be able to stop.
I’ve never been so relieved to hear a cab driver tell me “we’re here” and hand over the cash.
Rose’s cheeks are a gorgeous hue of pink that travels down to her chest.
Griffin’s not here when I unlock the apartment door. She’s in my arms, her legs wrapped around my waist, her ankles hooked behind me with her heels digging into my ass before I can even kick the door shut behind me.
This girl knows what she wants and I’ve never been so eager to give it to her, to satisfy every sordid thought I know she had back at the bar.
I don’t bother turning on the lights to Griffin’s bachelor apartment, barren of everything that makes a home a home considering his student budget.
She doesn’t need to see any of this place, she doesn’t want to either. All she wants is to get in bed and as I kick my shoes off, our lips still locked in place, I’m just fine with that.
Her ass fits perfectly in my palms, but this damn dress is in the way.
My desire to shred it is only tamed by the fact that I know this is all she has to wear when this is over and I sure as shit know Griffin doesn’t have any chick’s clothes here.
