Page 20 of Worship
So now I’m dancing with her.
It’s the only way I can pull her close and breathe her in. She’s starting to feel like something inevitable, as if no matter how hard I try to avoid what’s set in motion, we will happen. Or maybe that’s my excuse for wanting to do very dirty things to her body.
She feels exquisite against me, rocking to the music. My hand’s splayed on her bare back, and I have to focus on keeping it where it is because I’d like to bring it around to the front and run my thumb across her breast. Maybe even lean in and suck on her hard nipples.
I know they’re hard and that she’s braless, because she’s been at full alert since the moment I laid my eyes on her. That’s why her boy toy got so fucking territorial. I said hello and her body responded. He noticed and saw I did too. He’s lucky I didn’t actually fuck up his pretty little face. I could use an excuse to blow off some steam.
Those beautiful eyes come into focus as she pulls back with the end of our song. I can see all the thoughts warring in her head; they play directly across her face. She’s an open book for me—not for others though, just me. I like that more than I should. It’s like she allows me to see all the parts of her that she keeps for herself, the ones that are hidden and real.
“What’s on your mind, Angel.” That’s the second time I’ve called her that.
She taps my chest with her finger. “You are confusing. What’s going on here?” She motions between us with her hand.
“I don’t follow.” The look on her face is unamused at my false stupidity.
“Oh, you follow, buddy. In fact, sometimes it feels as if I’m being led.”
She raises one eyebrow, calling me out. How the fuck does she do this…make me want to own every terrible idea and thought out loud. When I don’t answer, she starts to walk away, and I reach for her wrist, closing my fingers around it gently just as another song starts to play.
“One more.”
She looks down at her wrist and back to me, letting me pull her in again. She melts into me, and I like the way she fits. I’m not ready for her to tell me no. But it’s coming.
I bring my lips close to her ear and begin to whisper. “I’m attracted to you, Gretchen. If I had it my way, I’d take you home and…” I stop before I say it, say everything I want to do to her. I lick my lips from the desire I feel to take her lobe into my mouth. Fuck. “But good girls only dobad thingswith good men.”
She presses her cheek into mine, leaning into my words, and our bodies seal together. We aren’t just dancing, we’re exploring. She tilts her head up slightly and lets out a soft exhale that makes my dick twitch.
“Luca, your logic is flawed.” Her whisper lingers in my ear.
I pull back and search her eyes, my gaze drifting down as she runs her tongue over her bottom lip and pulls it between her teeth. I don’t care what the fuck is happening around us because I’m fixated on the perfect full red lips in front me.
“How’s it flawed?”
“You’re assuming I’m a good girl.”
My fingers dig into her back. She’s as affected by this moment as I am. I want to rip her apart. I’d fuck her in the middle of this dance floor, and she’d love it. I’m sure of it, but no matter how much smack she talks, Gretchen isn’t signing up to be second to any woman. She’ll hate me tomorrow, and I’m not so sure I don’t care about that anymore.
“No. I know I’m the devil.” I push her back, putting distance between us.
“So do I.” She smirks. So. Fucking. Beautiful.
And perfect, but she doesn’t have a clue how dark this shit can get.
“Do you know what you’re saying yes to, Gretchen? Do you really?”
I take a predatory step forward because that’s what I feel like, but she never backs away; she holds her ground. It makes me want to save her, even from myself. “Or is it just fun?”
My fingers take in strand of her hair, feeling the softness.I bet she feels soft everywhere.
“I can smell your fucking lust, your excitement.” I say hushed.
I dip my head and run my nose up her neck. She inhales quickly, her chin tipping up, giving me more room. A soft moan escapes her mouth. “I’m dangerous, Gretchen,” I growl into her temple, laying a soft kiss against it.
“I won’t be there to console you when you feel ashamed. Remember that.”
I lock eyes with hers and reach my hand up to grip her jaw, pulling her lips to mine. A hand on the middle of my chest stops my movement before we kiss.
“Thank you for the dance.” Her voice is sweet, demure, but unmistakable in its meaning.
