Page 27 of Lawson

“I'm having fun,” I say.

“Why do you sound so surprised? Did you really think I was just going to sit here and pout because this event has nothing to do with me? I'm not that much of a cocky prick.”

I shake my head. “Of course, I didn't think that,” I say. “But I've been to several of these things before and seeing someone sitting and pouting is what I’m used to. Especially if he wasn't getting the attention he thought he deserved.”

Lawson takes that opportunity to dip me, his powerful arms easily bending my body this way and that, sending heat shivering down my center. “Can I ask why you stayed with him so long if he was that way with you?”

I sigh as he brings me back up to standing, our bodies flush as one song turns into another, neither one of us moving to let go. “I’ve asked that question myself a lot since leaving him. At first, I think it was because it was my firstrealrelationship. All throughout high school I’d been so focused on my practice and competition circuits that I didn't have time for a real boyfriend. Hell, I'd never been on a real date until my freshman year of college. I finally made time to open myself up to the idea of having a boyfriend and Brian seemed to fill that role very quickly. He liked the same things I liked, and he was a skater too. We were in each other's worlds so much that it was a natural progression.” A weight sinks in my stomach as too many memories flood me. The constant lectures, the subtle passive aggressive jabs that I thought were out of his love for me and his wishes for me to be better. He only wanted tolookbetter. I was never really a factor in the equation.

“You're telling me that douchebag Brian was the first guy you've ever been with?”

I can feel the blush work its way up my body, and I can only hope that I'm not too red, that the low lighting in the ballroom will hide it.

“That's a really personal question, don't you think?” I ask, but my tone is light as we turn around on the dance floor.

Lawson shrugs. “You made a joke about my past romantic history last week. I know mine is pretty public, but as far as personal goes, I have you in my arms,” he says, and leans down so we're cheek to cheek, his lips at the shell of my ear. “And I've had your tongue in my mouth, have felt your body against mine more than once now.” He pulls back, looking down at me with a confident smile. “If that's not personal, I don't know what it is.”

I'm on fire.

This man gets me hot in so many different ways, one is needy and achy and the other is angry and explosive. But he's not wrong, I poked fun at his extensive and public romantic history before.

“Yes,” I finally answer. “He's the first and only.”

Lawson goes still for a moment, pausing our dance and taking a few seconds before he realizes he stopped and starts us back up again.

“What's that look?” I ask.

“I feel awful,” he says.

“Why?”

“I mean, it's natural for your first to be bad, but for youronly? That's just downright depressing.”

I gaze up at him. “Who says Brian was bad?”

Lawson flashes me an incredulous look, then spins me and dips me once more before bringing me back flush against him. “Trust me, I saw the guy, and from what you've told me about him, he fits the bad-in-bed bill. I bet he never even took more than ten minutes with you.”

My eyes fall to his muscular chest, unable to keep looking at him after that comment. How could he tell? How is it that Lawson fucking Wolfe seemed to know more about me and my life than even I did? How could he read me so easily?

“It's a damn shame,” he says, tipping up my chin so I'll meet his eyes again. “If I was given the honor,” he continues, “I’d take much,muchlonger than that.”

“How much longer?” The whispered question is out of my mouth before I can stop it, my pulse skittering beneath my skin at the way he's looking at me. I already knew his kiss awakened something in me nothing else ever has. I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I actually let him into my bed.

Explosive indeed.

Lawson visibly swallows. “Do you really want to know, damsel?”

Did I? We always have fun bantering, but this feels like dancing on a tightrope—one slip and we’ll cross a line we might not be able to come back from.

But I felt safe with him. Not just in his arms but also in conversation with him. So, there isn’t any harm in enjoying those safe things, right?

I nod.

Lawson leans down again, his lips back at the shell of my ear, and I find myself tilting my head slightly, some instinct wanting to offer up more of my body to him. It’s quite clear in this moment, in his arms, I want to give him full access to anything he wants.

“I would take hours,” he says. “The first of which would be spent working over your entire body and figuring out exactly what it is that makes you tremble. The next few would be making you come so many times you would quickly pass out from exhaustion right after. And once you woke up, after I'd fed you properly, I'd start the process over again.”

Heat pools in my core, and I have the irresistible urge to shift against him to try to soothe the pulsing ache between my thighs.

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