Page 125 of Seduction Under the Southern Stars

September by Earth, Wind, and Fire comes on, and Linc raises an eyebrow. I roll my eyes and nod, and so we begin dancing to that, too.

In the end, we don’t stop for over an hour. We dance to Boogie Nights, Off the Wall, Disco Inferno, and several others I haven’t heard of. And then the DJ moves on to slow songs, starting with one of my favorites, Billy Paul’s Me and Mrs Jones.

Linc pulls me into his arms and takes my hand in his, and I sigh as I look up at him. There are quite a few more couples on the dance floor now, and more join us for this slow song, but for once, even though we’re surrounded, I don’t feel nervous. Maybe it’s the wine, or perhaps the fact that I feel comfortable with these people who understand my passion, but I think mainly it’s being so close to this guy and having the feeling that he’d lay his life on the line for me, if he had to.

We dance without speaking through the whole song, Linc singing softly, his deep voice reverberating through me. It’s getting late now, and they’ve lowered the lights, and there are more people on the dance floor. When the song changes to Barbra Streisand’s Woman in Love, I shiver, and I think he mistakes it for nerves because of all the couples crowding in on the tiny floor. He pulls me toward him a little more, his arms tightening protectively around me.

I tuck my head into his neck, the words making me flush a little. I am in love with him. Does he know that? Has he guessed? Oh God, of course he has, I’ve babbled about how I feel about him enough times. I haven’t said it in so many words, but he must realize that’s how I feel.

Does he feel the same way about me?

He said: We’re going to have to make a decision when the time comes… I stay. I leave. Or you come with me. He does have feelings for me. How can I doubt that? But he’s right; we’ve only been together for a few days. It’s like a holiday romance, with everything heightened because we know our time is limited. Holiday romances never work out. I can’t start thinking about making big changes in my life, or forcing him to make big changes, just because we’ve had a hot fling.

I’m overthinking again, and it’s wearing me out. I don’t want to keep angsting about the future. It’s going to spoil the present, and I’ll ruin everything, and I don’t want that.

So I push the thought out of my mind and do my best to just be in the moment. I concentrate on the feel of his arms around me, so tight, as if he wants us to become one. Which I know he does, very soon, our bodies cleaving together in the darkness as the ship rolls beneath us. I shiver, and he kisses my temple, the touch of his lips sending tingles all through me. I can smell his pirate cologne, the sweet notes of rum and coffee somehow exciting, making my pulse race. He hums along with the song, and all I can think about is him whispering in my ear, telling me all the things he wants to do to me.

I shiver again, and he moves back so he can look at me. “You okay?” he murmurs.

I nod, looking up into his eyes. They look much darker in this light, the green irises flashing multi-colored from the lasers flickering around the room.

He dips his head and touches his lips to mine. It’s hardly a passionate kiss; it takes less than a second, his mouth barely touching mine. But something shoots through me like a firework, igniting every nerve ending, sending my heart racing.

He lifts his head and looks at me. Then, without saying a word, he takes my hand and leads me off the dance floor.

The room is busy with people moving about, collecting drinks, changing seats, talking to friends, and nobody notices us wending our way through the tables, or at least if they do, no one comments on it.

When we reach the exit, he leads me wordlessly across to the elevators and presses the button to call the carriage. We wait, still not talking, our gazes locked. My heart is hammering. I’m not quite sure what’s on his mind, but the look in his eyes suggests he’s not thinking about the weather.

The doors ping and open, we go inside, and he presses the button for our floor. The doors slowly close.

Immediately, he strides across the carriage, takes my face in his hands, and crushes his lips to mine.

I gasp, my mouth opening automatically, and he takes the opportunity to plunge his tongue inside. Oh my God, I can’t catch my breath. He presses me up against the carriage wall, his body hard against mine. He takes my wrists in his hands and pins them above my head, then rocks his hips against mine, pressing his erection into my soft flesh.

I couldn’t move, even if I wanted to. My head spins and my heart bangs against my ribs, so hard I feel a little faint. I should object, I should feel scared, but I don’t, because it’s Linc, and because I want him to want me like this. I want him to claim me, to desire me, to burn for me, the same way I’m burning for him. A soft moan escapes my mouth, causing an answering groan to rumble in his throat.

Oh God, I want him so badly. I’m turning to caramel, filled with longing, and yearning for him. What the hell is happening to me?

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Linc

The elevator stops, and I tear my lips from Elora’s, drop her hands, and step back as the doors open and two couples walk in. Elora shrinks back against the carriage wall, chest heaving, trying to compose herself as one of them touches the button for a few floors up and the doors close.

Jesus, what the fuck am I doing, restraining her like that? I look at her, cursing myself, wondering if she’s angry with me or frightened. But she doesn’t look either of those things. Her eyes dart to the doors, and I suddenly remember that she doesn’t like elevators. Presumably at the beginning she didn’t think about it, but suddenly, enclosed in a room she can’t get out of with strangers, her eyes are wide with panic.

The elevator slows again, and the doors open, and another three people enter the carriage. Everyone jokes about squeezing up, shuffling together to make room for the newcomers.

I should take her out—I grab her hand and go to move, but the doors are already closing, and I’m too late. She’s trembling, clearly terrified, which I’m sure wasn’t helped by me restraining her.

“Hey.” I turn my back to the others in the elevator and move up close to her. Taking her face in my hands, I lift it, so she has to look into my eyes. “Hello, baby girl,” I murmur, smiling. “You okay?”

She swallows hard, her chest heaving. “Linc,” she says, her bottom lip trembling.

“I know.” I’m half-conscious of the others in the carriage, talking quietly, but I ignore them. bend my head, and press my lips to hers. I hold the kiss, and gradually, she stops trembling. It’s enough to distract her until the elevator finally stops and the doors open.

I move back and take her hand. “Come on.” Smiling at the others, who all give us curious looks, I lead her out and along the corridor toward our suite.

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