Especially West.
Only, now that Dane’s raised my curiosity, I can’t help but to glance over, not the least bit surprised to find West’s angry glare locked on us. In a blazing display of hypocrisy, Parker is all over him. He’s dancing with her, but he seems distracted.
As if he’s aware of having his brother’s attention, Dane’s hands move down my hips, controlling them with his touch. Then I feel the smooth heat of his fingertips slipping to my thighs, where the dress I picked barely covers anything.
My heart races on its own, completely against my will as I start to enjoy dancing with him for two very different reasons. One is super obvious—he’s hot—but mostly … I love what it’s doing to West.
For a guy who rarely gives anything away with his eyes, I see everything in them now—confusion, anger.
Jealousy.
I turn away from him and lean deeper into Dane, slinking my arm behind his neck, then push my fingers up through the back of his hair. He feels just like West, which is a relatively high compliment, considering. Heat from Dane’s breath rushes over my collar bone when he leans into me, too. Then, his lips touch me there and my eyes fall closed. I’m completely immersed in him now, the way his hands feel on me, smoothing their way down the clingy fabric laid over my skin.
I’ve all but forgotten anyone else is in the room when I’m jarred out of the fantasy he’s seduced me into.
There’s a firm grip on my wrist and a sudden jerk pulls me from Dane’s grasp. When I glance back at him, he’s wearing a devious grin and hangs onto my hand a moment before I’m out of reach. West has, apparently, trekked across the gym for this, to yank me away from his brother, leaving Parker glaring from afar.
All eyes are on us and I’m surprised he’s making such a scene. Typically, he’s all about being Mr. Cool Calm and Collected. But, from what I can tell, I’ve pissed him off, pushed him to the point that he doesn’t care who sees he’s coming unhinged.
He hasn’t said a word as I’m dragged across the gym by my wrist, like a disobedient child. Meanwhile, I can’t stop smiling. Maybe it’s just knowing that ‘THE West Golden’ isn’t a god. He’s human, hiding flaws and scars just like the rest of us.
It’s not until we turn two corners and stand face-to-face in a semi-lit hallway that he addresses me.
“What the hell was that?”
The smirk on my face only drives him crazier. “We’re at a dance,” I remind him. “I was dancing.”
“Not with him,” he seethes. “Not like that.”
A laugh bubbles in my throat and I can’t hold it in. “You sound like such a prude. Haven’t you ever seen two people—”
“Not. With. Him,” he repeats. Only, this time, the tone he takes steals some of my boldness.
A stormy gaze is locked on me, but it feels different this time. Yes, he’s angry, but not his usual brand of anger. There’s something more to it.
My gaze is trained on his lips when they part, but words don’t escape them. There’s something he wants to say or do, but I think he’s fighting it.
Or maybe he’s fighting himself.
I’m no stranger to the heat that seeps from us both when we’re close, and it’s alive and well right this moment. I let my eyes drift lower, to his throat, down to his swollen pecs that stand out compared to the narrowness of his waist.
I’m aware of how his breathing deepens. I hear it over the lull of bass throbbing from the gym. He steps closer, signaling me to peer up half a second before his taste is in my mouth again.
A deep surge of air fills my lungs and my fingers hook through the beltloops at his hips, pulling him in closer. We’ve given in to each other like this before, but both those times were about proving a point, manipulating one another as a means of strategy, but … this isn’t the same.
This is all about want.
Need.
Warmth moves up my thigh and I’m so into him it takes a moment to realize he’s pushing his hands beneath my dress, squeezing my ass hard. Dizzy from whatever this effect is he has on me, my tongue wanders inside his mouth, kissing him deeper than I’ve ever done in the past.
His teeth drag across my bottom lip, tugging it, leaving me to want more.
We breathe one another’s air and his face is still touching mine. He lifts his hand to push the edge of his thumb across my tender lips, and I feel myself slipping, freefalling down a dangerous slope when it comes to this beast.
My eyes open when he backs off a few inches. At first, he’s focused only on me, but then he casts his attention toward the dark, empty classroom beside us. When he stares me down again, I know exactly what he’s thinking.
What gives him away is that suggestive grin set on his lips. I bite my own, hardly able to contain myself, thinking of how soft and hot his are.
“You should follow me,” he groans, looking like he’ll pass out from lust overload.
“Why on Earth would I do a thing like that?” I ask with a smirk.
He passes a sweeping look down to my breasts, and then flashes back to my eyes. “Because I want you.” He admits that so freely it knocks the wind out of me.
For several seconds, I consider his offer, but then I come to my senses. His gaze flickers to my lips when a faint smile breaks through.
“Absolutely not. Never in a million years, actually.” I sound confident, but I’m only half-thinking I have the will to resist.
Whereas most guys would feel defeated by being rejected, not West. I swear it seems he’s even more turned on than before.
“Come on, Southside,” he croons in my ear.
Something
