A taste of pure heaven.
Cool fingers pry the glass from my fingertips and I open my eyes. “Thank you,” I say…or try to say. Oddly, my lips feel numb. The whiskered gentleman grins, and I ask, “What is—” But my breath catches, and an unseemly loud hiccup sound rises in my throat. I wait for my cheeks to flame in mortification at my grossly unladylike behavior, but they do not respond. It appears embarrassment does not exist in my current pleasant state. “—your name?”
“Daniel,” he answers with a grin.
“Well, Mister Daniel, that was rather tasty. How much”—my words catch again, but thankfully, no additional emissions spring forth—“do I owe you?”
Covering his mouth, which does a horrible job of hiding his chuckle, he shakes his head. “Believe me, it was my pleasure. But take some advice. If I were you, I’d think about stopping for the night.”
“Yes, sir,” I say, nodding at his sage wisdom. “That…was all I wanted.”
Daniel laughs outright this time and then wishes me a good night. He heads in one direction and I go in another, trying to recall where it was that I left Austin. Alas, doing so with a fuzzy head proves to be problematic. I narrow my eyes in the direction I believe he is in, hoping the action will somehow help things, and zone in on a cascade of long red hair.
My eyes widen, and my nails bite into the flesh of my palms. It’s the girl from outside.
Plowing through the crowd, racing to Austin, the only thought in my head is getting her away from him—and reminding her precisely who he came here with.
Just as I arrive, Cat looks up from her conversation with Lucas. Her jaw drops as I grab the girl’s shoulder and spin her around. “Retreat, you bitch,” I tell the girl, applying the derogatory name that Cat and Jamie use so often. People used it in my time as well, but I never cared to utter such a vile, contemptuous term. Until now, that is. “Austin is
Chairs screech as Lucas and Cat bolt to their feet. The redhead angles her hip, and her friends appear out of nowhere. Austin pulls me to his chest.
“Ladies, let’s not get crazy,” Lucas says in a calm voice, taking a position to my left. My cousin comes around to my other side and grabs my hand as Lucas continues, smiling in such a way as to highlight the dimple in his cheek. “We’re all here to have a good time. Obviously there’s some kind of mix-up, but we don’t have a problem, do we?”
“Looks like Tie-Dye here’s the one who has the problem,” the brunette friend says, referring to my hair and looking at me as if she smells something foul. “And if Kasey needs us, we’re here to solve it.”
Bending at the waist, she gestures at the other girls in tight dresses flanking her. I close one eye and tilt my head, puzzled. Why would the redhead need any help? The solution is not one that requires assistance—she must simply leave the premises. And perhaps buy a longer dress. What is so difficult about that?
Then I realize in the midst of that strange reply, the redhead’s friend inadvertently slipped me her name.
I inhale a steady breath through my nose and square my shoulders, ready for battle.
But before I can give utterance to the jealous rage roiling inside, Austin lowers his mouth to my ear. The warmth of his breath on my flesh weakens my resolve—and my knees. “Princess, I can smell the alcohol on you,” he says in a low voice meant for only me to hear. “And I know this isn’t you…though I ain’t gonna lie, this possessive streak of yours is a turn-on.”
He presses an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin right under my jaw, and my heartbeat stutters.
Across from us, watching our whispered conversation with disdain, Kasey shrinks her eyes into little crescent-shaped slits. Austin shifts behind me, and the scent of his yummy cologne invades my senses. My eyelashes flutter, and I decide I don’t really care about the shape of Kasey’s eyes.
“So since this isn’t you,” Austin continues, his nose skimming the column of my neck, “and you’re not really in control of your brain at the moment, why don’t you let me handle this…
My euphoria from his touch fades at his choice of words. That was not exactly the romantic banter of a Shakespearean sonnet. But not wanting to leave tonight without my promised dance, I nod my consent.
He steps away, bringing with him his warmth and bodily support, and I sink into a chair. Propping my head on my hand, I motion for Cat and Lucas to sit.
“Somebody had more than water,” my cousin says as the two of them take their seats. “Just tell me you didn’t do anything stupid.”
I shake my head, and my elbow falls off the tabletop. Righting myself, I assure her, “I was completely safe. I asked a kind gentleman to get it and watched him the entire time.” Recalling the taste of cinnamon, I say, “This drink had lovely flakes of gold in it.”
“I concur,” Lucas chimes in, and they share a grin. He takes Cat’s hand in his and places them on the tabletop.
Despite the dawning fact that I will regret a few of tonight’s more illicit choices in the light of day, the sight fills me with joy. At the very least, my amusing exploits are bringing the two of them together. Smiling at the sparks flying between them at last, I shift my gaze and watch the fearsome female foursome slither away.
Austin smirks as he strolls up to our table. “You know, all that unleashed estrogen’s got me needing to burn off excess energy. And I think I made someone here a promise.” Offering me his left hand, he asks, “Dance with me, Alessandra?”
The intoxicating sound of my name on his lips has me jumping from my chair. I lunge for his hand and end up jostling the table, sending a plastic cup of brown soda gushing over the surface. Cat laughs, and I stick out my tongue teasingly.
Walking to the invisible line dividing the bar from the dance floor, Austin turns to Lucas and says, “Hey, man, in case Ms. Inebriated here gets in another scrape, do me a favor and keep close, all right?”
Lucas flashes me a grin and agrees. I’d like to argue their concern is unneeded and unwarranted, but even I know that’s untrue. It would seem that Cat was right—I
The band changes songs, and we step onto the packed floor. Entwining his long fingers with my own, Austin tugs me toward a back corner, away from the crowd of dancers and near a shadowed row of half-empty tables. My feet carry me forward, following where he leads, as a sensation that feels like falling fills my stomach. My head spins, and it’s becoming difficult to catch a breath—but none of it has a thing to do with the alcohol I consumed, and everything to do with the boy stopping under the glow of amber light and pulling me in his direction.
I lift my head and stare into the deep blue of Austin’s eyes, hoping this delicious feeling never ends. He takes our entwined hands and places them behind his neck, then catches my other hand and drapes it along the first. The movement crushes me tighter against the firmness of his torso.
The only other time I was this close to a boy, I was kissing him. And that boy was Austin.
Callused fingers slide down my bare arms, and shivers explode in their wake. My own fingers curl into the soft wisps of hair at his nape. Locking his hands together at the small of my back, Austin begins swaying our bodies to the slow, exhilarating beat of the music.
“I’ve never done this before,” I tell him. I don’t know why I do, but it feels important that he know.
He grins. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
A blush erupts under my skin. Austin’s grin widens, seeing the power his words have over me, but I’m not embarrassed. I’m tired of trying to hide how I feel. “I know I don’t have to worry,” I say. “You’re always good to me.”
Austin’s mischievous grin fades as his gaze holds mine. His fingers contract, and he draws me even closer.
I lose myself in the music, in the words, and in Austin’s strong embrace. The buzz of alcohol and the close
