Page 26 of Stella
“You’re cute,” he mouths.
I smile up at him. “Yeah?”
He nods. “Wanna dance?”
“I am dancing!”
He laughs. “I meant with me.”
I’m about to tell him that it’s girls night, and he can dance with us in a group, but something catches my attention, and I find myself looking up directly into the pretty, blue eyes of Cale Callaghan. My breath hitches as my eyes widen. He’s staring at me from across the other side of the room. As I take in the scene; he’s with a bunch of his friends and they’re all drinking beer. Some of them are laughing as one of the dudes is telling a story, moving his hands around animatedly as they pat him on the back while they laugh. But Cale has his eyes fixed on me, and he isn’t laughing, heck, he’s not even smiling.
I feel the cute guy put a hand on my hip and whisper in my ear. “So, how about it?”
I feel a thrill, not at him, but the way Cale’s eyes dart to where the dude’s hand is wrapped around my waist. He does not look happy about it.
I smirk, taking my half-empty glass from the table and lifting it in his direction. “Detective,” I mouth, my eyes still on his as I down the rest of the cocktail without tearing my eyes from him. Oh, if Cale wants a show, I’m gonna give him one.
I look up to the not-as-cute-as-I-thought-he-was dude and smile as brightly as I can muster. Butterflies in my stomach, and that dull ache between my legs that I get whenever I see Cale. It’s not for the man beaming down at me, but what’s one dance?
If I have the chance to make Cale jealous, then I may as well seize the day.
“What the hell,” I sing. “One dance, and keep your hands to yourself.”
He takes his hand off my hip and waves them in the air. “Deal.”
Oh, you just keep watching,Callaghan. I’m about to give you the ride of your life.
7
CALE
I stareat Stella from across the room, mesmerized by her. Not just how gorgeous she is or how every man in this room has noticed her, but the way she holds herself; exuding confidence. There is no other woman on the planet, much less this club, who is as beautiful as her.
I watch as her long, wavy hair hangs over one shoulder, covering her right breast. She isn’t wearing much, but that top shows more than enough. Stella has the kind of rack that every man dreams of, and I’m glad I’m sitting because the wood that’s in progress can’t be contained. Then there’s the patent mini skirt she’s wearing; the thing should be illegal. It shows off her tanned skin, and in those heels? Her short legs look longer than what they are. Simply put; Stella is a vision, and she’s putting on quite the show with those curvy hips she keeps shaking. When she does that, her tits jiggle, and it makes me curve my palm into a fist. Why? Because I want to fight every single man looking at her; and that’s a lot
What annoys me the most is the look on the douchebag’s face when she agrees to dance because it lights up like a fuckingChristmas tree. When he steers her by the elbow, I start to rise, then sit back down.What am I doing?
She’s not doing anything wrong, technically she’s old enough to be in this bar, even if that dude with the grabby paws isn’t worth her time. But I still struggle with her age and her being so young. What the fuck do you know about anything at twenty-one? I battle with myself over all the bad thoughts I have about her, knowing all of this information.
Nobody is worth her time except me. And even then. But this guy? Yeah, this guy is doing the wrong thing by even looking at her.
I noticed she didn’t seem to want much to do with him at first; his face dropped when she laughed and pointed to her friends. Until she saw me, then she changed her tune. Suddenly, grabby paws are the only thing she’ll flash that pearly white smile for. And that makes my palm twitch because that is bad girl behavior. Very bad.
If Stella were mine, which I’ve established she can’t be, I’d be spanking that perky little ass for being such a brat, and she wouldn’t be able to sit for a week.
Those beautiful eyes that captivate me from all the way across the room are wild tonight. She’s mischievous. Like she’s just doing this on purpose to make me jealous. I had no clue that I was capable of being jealous until this second, so it’s news to me, too.
I can’t take my eyes off her when she places herself directly in the middle of the dance floor and facing me, she closes her eyes and rolls her body to the music. I take a pull of my beer, ignoring my friends as they laugh and talk shit. Nobody has even noticed me in my trance, and I’d like to keep it that way, so I divert my gaze every now and again back to my group while still watching her.
To say I’m spellbound by her is an understatement, but that’s the spell she cast over me. I don’t know when it happened, or how, but after getting mad about her wearing that damn prospect cut, I’ve missed seeing her. I’d usually make a stop off at the bakery, but she’s hardly ever there now, and it isn’t like I can just make a random house call at Tag’s. That’s proven to be an unpleasant experience, even when I was being a good samaritan.
I’m glad the lights are dim and the music blares even louder, not that I care if anyone notices me staring. My friends will just think I’m checking out some chick, and I am doing exactly that. But every time she rolls those fucking hips, the dude behind her moves a little closer.
His hands are back on her waist again, and then she turns away from me. I get a snapshot of her ass in that tight little skirt, and I don’t even realize I’m moving as his hands creep lower and grab her ass. Like a man possessed, I march over there, unable to see straight. I’m glad I do, because Stella is pushing him back and saying no.
When he sees me approaching, his eyes grow wide, and he backs off like a fucking coward. I’m in two minds to hunt him down and chop his fucking hands off for touching her, but her hand on my forearm draws my gaze back to her.
“That’s a very bad idea, Princess,” I growl. I don’t add the rest:letting a man touch you.She can figure that out all on her own.
