Page 14 of One Hotlanta Night
This is a guy who knows how to put himself together. I doubt his mama has to dress him.
I doubt anyone could tell him what to do.
As my eyes climb back up the length of him, I notice the top two buttons of his shirt are undone, fabric barely restraining hard muscles peeking underneath. I watch his eyes heatedly perusing my body the same unashamed way I did to him. Feeling like I’ve been stripped bare of my clothingandmy soul.
I hope he doesn’t find me wanting.
Why does that even matter to me?
I should be offended, should feel like I’m being examined like a piece of meat. But the way his tongue slips out to glide across his lower lip as he watches me intensifies the heat pooling between my thighs.
His stare engulfs me. Consumes me. Caresses me with his eyes, conveying what he could do with his tongue. I bet he knowsexactlywhat to do with it. How he could dominate me. I tremble, wondering what it would be like to touch him, to see if his skin sears me the way his eyes do. To experience everything he has promised in that look alone.
I’ve never shied away from approaching any stranger, but this? This is almost too intimidating. I want to go to him. Ineedto get closer, but my legs won’t move. Everything about him screams masculinity and power, but it’s his eyes that draw my focus, unblinking. A taut rope tethering us together that I can’t escape. I don’t want to escape.
It’s confidence; it’s desire; it’s recognition. My heart comprehends it, but my brain needs it to make sense. This pull between us is so strong that it terrifies me.
Swallowing, I summon an inner confidence I don’t feel as I meet the challenge in his eyes. Impossibly, his pupils darkeneven more as I’m held in his trance. I couldn’t look away if I tried, the force is so strong. Heat, desire, and—something more—radiate from him.
He’s looking at me like he’s found the finish line. The hero winning his prize. Odysseus coming home to Penelope.
He looks at me like he’s going to take me. Claim me.
This is insane. Not possible. People don’t just claim people. Right?
His eyes bore into mine, piercing and steady. He’s holding me without a single touch. He could climb right inside my head and make himself at home, and I wouldn’t say no.
I want more.
I want—no, need—to get closer to him. Close enough to share his breath. I want to run my hands through that thick hair, want to feel his hands caress my skin, want to see exactly what color his eyes are, and those lips… I want to know how they feel against mine.
I want to hear his voice.
I blink once, twice, and swallow, my mouth suddenly dry as heat rushes down to my core.
My hot stranger raises his bottle and tilts it languidly in my direction, his eyes never leaving mine for a second. Then he brings it to those sultry lips for a swallow, silently toasting me across the sea of people.
I stand frozen. Did he… did he really just do that? I take a quick glance at my surroundings. No other girl is even looking in his direction. Nope, that acknowledgement was just for me. Turning back to face him, he nods slowly. As if I needed any more confirmation that it’s me he’s looking at.
It’s me he has chosen.
I want to eat him for breakfast, and he’s looking at me like I’m his favorite dessert.
A full-body shiver runs through me. I haven’t had enough tequila for it to be messing with my head. But this guy has me totally mesmerized. It feels like we’re the only two people in the room.
Tonight was supposed to be just a good time, to dance, to blow off some stress.
And yet here I am, pulled to a total stranger in a way I can’t explain.
Shivering from the intensity of the situation, I break eye contact and look back toward Matt. Would it be awful to up and leave him? Probably. But I still consider it.
Poor guy is clueless to my world tilting on its axis just now. He tries to step closer to me, placing a hand on my hip. The beat changes so I lightly dance out of it without much effort.
His hands aren’t the ones I want to feel.
My eyes flick back toward my mystery man, and I’m shocked to see his brows knitted together and a scowl on his face. What’s that about? First he looks at me like I’m a precious jewel and then like he’s about to rip someone’s head off.
It’s too much. I turn around and attempt to steady myself. The air around me feels suffocating. My head is swirling, too many sensations hitting me at once. I need to breathe. I came to clear my head, not mess it up again.
