But I’d been so wrong about that.
It had always been us. He and I. This didn’t fall short now. It was better.
His hands settled on my hips like they were meant to be there, guiding me closer. That buzz from earlier—the rush of performing—still pulsed in my veins, making everything feel brighter. Sharper. I was so fucking happy. Really happy. Not some artificial high. Real, in-the-moment joy. And I’d spent years thinking I’d never have that.
We moved with the music. I set the pace, and Atty followed with ease. He was good at this. Like everything else, honestly. He had this uncanny ability to match rhythm and flow like he could feel it in your soul. Or maybe it was just with me—but either way, he made it look effortless.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. “Can I go back to kissing you now?”
“Fuck yes,” I muttered, just before his mouth found mine.
And I was right. It was better. A million times better.
His kiss was languid—familiar, comfortable, but deep in a way that carved through me. No one kissed like Atty. No one.
My hands slid through the sweat-damp curls at his nape as I rose on the balls of my feet, determined to close every inch between us. His tongue moved against mine, coaxing, inviting, and I followed without hesitation. When he pulled back, it was only to leave a trail of kisses along my jaw, down to the spot just beneath my ear—the one he always loved to mark.
“Can’t wait to have you to myself,” he whispered.
I smiled. “Oh yeah? To do what?”
Atty grabbed my chin between two fingers—gentle, but firm—and tilted my head until his lips brushed my ear. “Get you out of your clothes. Maybe not the shirt.”
I bit down on my lip, though a laugh still escaped. “What else?”
He nibbled on my earlobe. “Kiss you everywhere.” His voice was rough—and I could feel how much he meant it, pressed hard against my hip.
“What else?” I pushed, hungry for more.
“Have you on top of me.” His grip tightened on my hips, dragging me closer. “Watch you move. I’ve missed that.”
My breath hitched. That little burst of confidence in him was so fucking hot. There was no way to explain what it did to me hearing him say things like that—even if he still struggled with being blunt.
So I figured I could be the one to say the filthy stuff for both of us.
Looping my arms around his neck, I leaned in close, mirroring his pose. “You miss watching me ride that cock?”
Atty’s body shivered against mine. He didn’t nod—didn’t say a word. Instead, he leaned his forehead against mine, our eyes locking. I tilted my head back just enough to study him properly. He was turned on, no question. But beneath the heat, there was something else. Hesitation.
“What?” I asked, gentle now.
His lips parted, like he was about to speak. His gaze searched my face, but the words didn’t come.
“I forgot about this bit,” Holly’s voice interrupted loudly, and we both startled.
“What?” I didn’t dare to move an inch—mostly to avoid drawing attention to our matching hard-ons.
“You two clearly don’t understand the concept of dancing,” she said, smirking. “You can go back to mauling each other and putting on a show. Just letting you know—we’re all out back on the deck.”
I chuckled and gave her a nod as she walked away.
The tension between us loosened a little, and we made a halfhearted attempt at dancing again—even though our mouths kept finding each other, or any piece of exposed skin they could reach.
What felt like a very long while later, I finally left Atty with Colin, Ezra, and Holly, and went in search of the restroom.
The house was massive. Not exactly luxurious, but sprawling—crammed with a million small rooms that made it nearly impossible to find a damn bathroom. I ran into two closed doors and what looked like a kitchen before finally opening one that flooded me with neon light.
I was about to back out when someone near the door caught sight of me.