Page 23 of One Hotlanta Night
My arms have remained wrapped around her body unless she was twirling out for a spin. After a little hesitation and a few laughter-filled trips in those hot heels, she’d taken to salsa like a pro. But the bachata melodies made me almost lose my mind, rocking and rolling and grinding her hips against mine, my hardness barely restrained by my jeans, teasing her thighs and relishing how the pleasurable contact made her skin glow.
As amazing as her body feels though, I want more. I want it all. I want to get inside her mind, find out what makes her tick. I need to know everything about her. Because this is not just a fun night out for me. This is everything. My future. And hers. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
She will.
I close my eyes and rest my lips at the crown of her head. Even her sweat smells amazing, jasmine notes overlaying the rest of the scents in the bar. “Give me your number,” I murmur as I trail my lips over her forehead. It’s not a request.
I hear the smile in her voice. “What if I don’t want to?” Oh, now she wants to be coy?
“Are you trying to break my heart, mi amor?” My voice dips lower in warning as I deepen my massage on her hips. My hands cup her ass as I pull her into me and she gasps at the sudden movement, our bodies pressed tightly together. My hands fit right into her curves like they have all night. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Finding the hem of her shirt, my fingers slip just beneath, caressing her hot skin and relishing the way her flesh pebbles under my touch. She shudders and closes her eyes, her breaths shaky.
“Okay,” she whispers, and I grin. Sliding my hand around her waist but keeping it under her shirt so I can maintain the skin-to-skin contact, I turn to face the bar.
“Hey, man, got a pen?” I ask the bartender who’s been pouring our shots all night. I’d switched to water after a few and so had Vivian, so I’m not worried about either of us getting home safe. She’s completely sober or else I’d insist on driving her.
As for me? The only thing I’m drunk on is her.
He tosses a Sharpie at me and smirks. Funny guy. Like I’d even hesitate for my woman to mark me. Vivian reaches for a bar napkin, but I push her hand away. “You can put it here,” I say, pointing to my forearm.
“You’ve gotta be kidding!” She bursts out laughing, dumbfounded. “You know that’s permanent, right?”Yeah, I do. Just like you’re permanently mine.
Raising my eyebrows, I pull her so she’s standing in between my legs again and uncap the pen for her. Holding my arm out on the bar, I say, “Now give me those digits so I can find you again.” She rolls her eyes but does as I ask, printing the numbers small as if she’s trying to make them less obvious. She pauses for a second, then adds a small heart at the end, and my smile grows wider. The trepidation she expressed at the beginning of the night has all but melted away. By the way she’s responding tome, I’m pretty sure it’s the real deal and not a fake number. But there’s nothing fake about this woman, or how I feel about her.
Just one more thing. I need to taste her.
“Hey, Michael, we gotta roll. You coming or what?” Adam calls out above the din. I’ve been so wrapped up in my future wife that I’d forgotten all about him and his buddies.
“Gimme a sec. I’ll meet you out front.”
Adam nods, a broad smile on his face. All of his and Janice’s attempts at matchmaking failed, and now tonight I’ve found my woman without their help. He won’t care though; he’ll be happy for me. The fact that I’ve spent all night with Vivian since she reached for me is not lost on him, and I know I’m gonna catch so much shit later.
As they walk toward the exit, I note little Matty boy is nowhere to be found. Good. I don’t even want his eyes on my woman. When he’d come back from the bathroom and saw Vivan with me, he’d tried to mean-mug me. Vivan’s back was turned so she didn’t catch my glare warning him off. Dude never stood a chance, but I’d rather not have to get ugly about it. Thankfully, the guy must’ve figured it was a lost cause because he had stalked off to find someone else to hit on.
“Come, my lady.” I take her hand and guide her to a darkened corner. The dance floor is beginning to empty. The DJ is gone and left some instrumental tropicales music playing. People are still getting their last drinks and the house lights haven’t come on yet, so there’s plenty of room for privacy. I’d prefer to see all the emotions wash across Vivan’s exquisite face as I touch her, but I’ll have to settle for feeling them.
This first kiss is private, for us only, and I’ll take what I need through touch alone, communicate with my hands and mouth and hips everything I want to do to her. Everything she means to me. This woman is meant to be mine, and I’m not letting her gowithout leaving her with a promise of more, without leaving my mark on her.
Vivian
Michael presses me against the wall, one hand cushioning my back while his arm with my number etched on it braces over my head. I still can’t believe he did that. It’s gonna take days to wash off, or else he’ll have to hide it with long shirts, which is brutal in the Atlanta heat. His dark eyes burn into mine. “I want to see you again.”
It’s not a question. And I don’t even mind.
Everything I felt coming here tonight, all of my intentions and resolutions have been completely obliterated by him. He found me, sought me out, leading me as we danced. He took control while paying attention to my cues, reading my body as well as my words. He listened, genuinely listened to me as we talked… for what little talking we did. I can’t remember the last time a guy did that without staring at my boobs. Yeah, he noticed those too, but in an appreciative way, rather than me feeling like a piece of meat. And, oh, the way he soaked up every detail aboutme. Like he couldn’t get enough. He’s handsome as hell, but that’s not the only pull I feel toward him.
He’s intoxicating but also feels trustworthy.
Like he’s not one to play games. Like I could open myself up to him.
Acts like he knows what he wants, and he’s made it clear that he wants me.
And while he’s taken charge most of the night, he’s also respected my space. From clasping our hands together, to wrapping his arms around my waist, even when our hips were pressed flush together during those sexy bachatas that almost made me faint with lust on the dance floor. He never hid his desire to be close, but the choice was always mine. Giving me an out if I wanted it. Not that I ever did. If that’s not a sexy way to check in with a partner, then I don’t know what is. He let me come to him on the dance floor, waited for me to choose him unequivocally before he took over… maybe he’s waiting for me to initiate a kiss?
I really,reallywant to kiss that sensual mouth.
Trailing a finger down his neck to the top of his shirt, I breathe in his intoxicating crisp and citrusy scent. I really need to find out about that cologne. My finger reaches the collar, his chest rising and falling almost as fast as mine. And when I look up, his molten eyes have grown dark and heated. He’s waiting for me; how he’s holding himself back I don’t know. But I don’t want to wait any longer. I need to feel his mouth on mine.
Tilting my head, I close my eyes and close the small distance remaining between us, my lips just barely brushing his. His lips are soft and warm and feel heavenly against mine.
