Page 67 of Hale Yes
“Oh, I think he’s a bit biased,” I say modestly. “If you ever come to Houston, make sure to give me a call.”
“Sure will,” he replies with a nod.
Helix’s hand lands on my back, and the gesture seems so natural, like that spot was made for him to touch.
I’ve got to stop thinking shit like that. He’s my boss. My hot-as-hell boss, but whatever.
We walk together down a corridor and then turn right down another short hallway to the restrooms. “I’ll wait right here for you,” Helix says, leaning back against the wall across from the ladies’ room with his hands in his pockets.
Going inside, I do my business and then wash my hands before exiting. As soon as I do, Helix holds his index finger to his lips and jerks his head to the left. Pausing, I hear my sister and Annette. It sounds like they're standing right around the corner.
“Can you even believe she wore that dress with white on it?”
Annette sounds unsure. She’s always been one of Angelica’s minions, but her voice is tentative. “I really don’t think it’s considered rude to wear something with just a tiny bit of white on it. The dress your mother is wearing tonight has a white collar.”
My sister snorts a derisive sound. “Well that doesn’t bother me. Just whenmy sisterdoes it. I know she still wants Rory back.”
I make a gagging motion at Helix, and he covers his mouth with his hand to hold in a laugh.
“I don’t know,” Annette says warily. “Her new boyfriend is really handsome, and I looked him up. He’s, like, a billionaire or something.”
Angelica sounds pissed, and I can picture her squinting blue eyes. “Whose side are you on, Annette?”
“Yours of course,” she answers with placating swiftness. “I was just saying, Helix Hale is a catch. And sooooo hot.”
Licking my finger, I press it to his chest and make an almost silent sizzling sound. Both our shoulders shake as we try to keep our amusement quiet.
All my hilarity fades at Angelica’s next words. “He’s probably not even her real boyfriend. I mean, what would he even see in her?”
Shit.
Helix frowns and shakes his head at me as we hear Annette again. “I don’t know. I think Nicolette is gorgeous. That dress looks amaz—” She cuts herself off, and I can only imagine the glare my sister is giving her. “I mean, she looks like crap. Totally horrible. You’re probably right. I’m sure they’re just faking it for the party.”
My sister’s voice comes through loud and clear. “I know I’m right. Now come with me to the bathroom. I need to pee.”
Panic rises in my chest becauseholy hell, they’re headed this way, but Helix bends his head and whispers, “Trust me?”
“Yes,” I reply without thinking, and the next thing I know, I’m being spun until my back is pressed firmly against the wall. When Helix steps into me, I’m sandwiched between plaster behind me and a large, hard body in front of me.
Then he takes my mouth with his. It’s not the usual tentative brush of lips between a couple having their first kiss. No, this is brimming with the confidence of a man who knows how to fucking kiss a woman.
I’m floundering, unable to figure out what to do with my hands, when I hear two sets of footsteps. As if someone told them to do it, my arms slide up and around Helix’s neck, my fingers weaving into the softness of his thick, dark-brown hair. He makes a small noise of approval a second before twin gasps sound off from beside us.
And then all outside noise fades away when Helix’s tongue breaches the barrier of my lips. Not that it was a very effective barrier in the first place because I parted them without much urging. We’re in our very own steamy bubble of need and longing, unaware of the rest of the world.
Helix tastes like sugar and warm whiskey, and I feel a sense of euphoria as our tongues slide and twirl together. I know logically it’s simply the effects of various hormones that are released when two people kiss. Serotonin, oxytocin, and dopamine, to name a few. But this is more than simple biochemistry. This is electricity, a carnal hunger for more, more, more.
Our tongues battle, but his is a four-star general, commanding mine to follow his slow but demanding rhythm. Meanwhile, one of his arms belts my waist, holding me to him while the other…
Dear god. His other hand is firmly kneading my ass.
I repeat… His. Hand. Is. On. My. Ass.
A whimper escapes me when he slides it down to the back of my knee becauseseriously dude, what are you doing? Grab my butt again.But that whimper quickly morphs into a moan when he yanks my thigh up around his hip.
And there it is. His penis. Directly between my legs. Either this man is smuggling a lead pipe in his trousers or he is very well-endowed.For the love of all that’s good and holy, please let it be the latter.I discover it is indeed his very hard cock when I rock my hips in a searching circle.
He growls into my mouth. Literally growls. I’ve read about this before in romance books, but I’ve never understood it, and I’ve certainly never experienced it before. I thought it was one of those things romance authors must have had a meeting about and voted on. Things that only happen in their steamy books and never in real life. You know, like growling, multiple orgasms, and women who fall asleep after sex without peeing and yet never get a UTI.
