Page 19 of It's All You

I’m supposed to be pushing him toward other men, not basking in his attentiveness. I’m supposed to be showing him how to pick up guys, not hogging him all to myself. If I don’t point him in the right direction, there’s no way he’ll do it himself.

Beau turns back from studying the dance floor and his gaze is hot and heavy when it settles on me. My vision goes a little blurry around the edges and only then do I realize I’ve been holding my breath. I force my lungs to expand, taking in the scent of sweat and alcohol, and underneath it all, Beau’s distinct spiciness.

“So? What do you think?”

He bends his head, nose brushing along the shell of my ear, making me feel safe and small, tucked into the alcove of his body. “I think we should dance.”

“That’s not—” The protest dies on my tongue when I see the eager puppy expression on Beau’s face.

You wouldn’t think it by looking at him, but Beau’s a great dancer. Being so aware of his own body, paired with agility developed from a lifetime of sports, he’s stolen the show on the dance floor more than once. Getting him out there would be the perfect opportunity for someone else to snatch him up. I’ll just have to shove my jealousy down deep enough to let it happen.

“Okay, fine. Let’s go dance.”

Beau lets out a whoop, sets our half-finished drinks on a nearby table, and grabs my hand—like he did yesterday, threading our fingers together. I fight back the surge of emotion as I follow him into the thick crowd of people. If circumstances were different, if we were different people…

It’s impossible to move on the dance floor, much as we try. With no space for me to maintain my distance, I end up with my nose brushing Beau’s collarbone.

“Can’t dance like this,” he shouts into my ear.

“I know. I’m sorry. We can come back la?—”

His arm cinches tight around my back, he shifts an inch to the left and suddenly I’m riding his thigh. I’m flush against him from groin to chest and his lips are ghosting down my neck.

“Oh god.” My head falls back as I cling to him. He’s all around me, with hard muscles and damp skin. We move together. Or rather, Beau moves, rolling his hips and swaying side to side while I have no choice but to go along for the ride. We’re not so much dancing as rubbing up on each other.

Not that my cock would know the difference. It’s a solid rod trapped in my pants and crushed against Beau’s hip. His thigh is wedged so high between my own that my heels don’t fully touch the ground. Every move he makes pushes me up and down until I’m basically humping his leg, and dear lord, I’m so close to coming, I don’t even care.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

BEAU

These new jeans are so tight they constrict the blood flow to the bottom half of my body, which I suppose is both a blessing and a curse. I’m so hard I could probably bust the zipper on the thing right open. On the other hand, with my circulation confined to my upper body, at least my brain will get enough oxygen to keep me from passing out in the middle of the club.

Gavin’s obviously bigger than anyone I’ve ever danced with like this—if you can call what we’re doing dancing—but there’s something about the width of his shoulders and the way it narrows down to his hips that’s so good it short-circuits my neural pathways. He feels more substantial in my arms and yet more delicate at the same time. The contrast makes my head spin and my knees weak.

My lips burn where they’ve scraped across his stubble and when I rub our cheeks together, the friction sends shivers shooting up my spine.

Gavin’s just as hard as I am, his cock a thick bulge on my hip. Something hums deep inside me at that, at knowing I’m the cause of it, I’m the one he’s hard for. It’s something raw and primal and possessive. It’s potent and powerful and all I want is to devour Gavin so I can get more.

I latch onto his neck, right above his pulse. His heart rate is surprisingly slow and steady against my tongue, somehow beating in time with the pulsing music around us. I move to its rhythm, losing myself in it, in Gavin. This man I’ve known my whole life and whom I’m discovering again for the first time.

One song bleeds seamlessly into the next and I don’t recognize it, but it’s obviously a crowd favorite. Everyone screams and throws their hands up, including Gavin, who smiles at me with more brightness and life than I’ve seen in him since I came up to New York.

“Oh my god, I love this song!” He shouts the lyrics at the top of his lungs, spinning around in a circle.

Colored disco lights shift over the planes of his face, across shoulders and chest enclosed in sheer, silky material. He’s gorgeous like this. How come I’ve never seen it before?

I catch him when his back is to me and haul him against me again. Gavin doesn’t hesitate to drop his head on my shoulder and wrap one arm around my neck. He slithers down my body, then up again, and goddamn, I feel like a fucking god.

“You’re mine.”

He gasps at my words, chest expanding under my palm, and he turns to tuck his face into the crook of my neck.

“You’re mine.”

He shudders and his blunt fingernails scrape across the back of my head.

My one arm is clamped possessively across his chest and I drag my other hand down his stomach to palm his cock. It throbs behind the soft leather of his pants. I sink my teeth into that spot where his neck meets his shoulder, into the muscle made tough from too many hours bent over a computer.

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