Page 4 of 4-Ever Theirs (4-Ever 1)

“What if I can’t—?” She swallowed hard.

“Hey, hey.” He tugged her into a light hug. “No pressure. First time jitters. Everyone gets ’em. Why don’t we go out there and dance? See what happens? I promise, you’ll be relaxed in no time.”

“Thank you.” She squeezed his waist, noticing that he smelled nice, if different than the guys she was used to. “I appreciate you being so cool about this.”

“Come on.” He interlaced their fingers then led her to the main area. “How’s a fruity cocktail sound?”

She was more of a beer girl, really, but she’d already been enough of a pain in his ass. “Great.”

He winked at her then showed her to the edge of the dance floor before shouting, “Wait here. The bar’s always mobbed on the weekends. I don’t want you to get crushed.”

Andi nodded, grateful for a moment to compose herself. Then she watched as her date waded through sensual bodies pulsing with the music. It did take a while for him to make his way to the front of the line. Eventually, he took something from his pocket along with his wallet as he paid for their booze. She angled her head for a closer look. An overzealous dancer bounced into her, jostling her.

“Sorry!” The guy grinned as he braced her until she was steady.

“No problem.” She smiled back.

“Meeting new men already, huh?” Peter returned, swishing the neon-pink umbrella through her drink a few times before handing it over. “I know I won’t be lucky enough to keep you for long.”

She laughed before taking a sip, then another, of the sweet concoction. “This is delicious. I can’t taste the alcohol with all this stuff in here.”

“I think that’s the point.” He smiled then tucked her against him as he swayed in time to the beat that began to reverberate through her the more she imbibed.

By the time her straw sucked pure air, she was already feeling looser. Warmer too, though Peter’s thigh pressed between hers as they settled into the rhythm might have had something to do with that. She was in capable hands with him.

“Come on, let’s dance for a bit.” He set her empty glass on a tray at the edge of the room along with his own. Then he tugged her onto the floor and showed that his hip action was nearly as good as Simon’s. She might have forgotten to breathe for a bit since the room seemed to spin. Or maybe that was anticipation along with a solid buzz.

Either way, she couldn’t say she minded the sensation much.

By the time Peter’s hands began to wander up her thighs, below the hem of her skirt, she had started peeking around for the entrance to the lower level and the temptations she’d heard about. The impressive bulge rubbing her ass when she spun her back to his front and let him lead her through the song didn’t hurt either.

He dipped his head and took her earlobe between his teeth, making her tremble when he asked, “Ready for more?”

Without bothering to speak, she nodded.

“Good girl, Andi,” he crooned before escorting her from the floor.

The band of his arm around her waist was welcome. It kept her upright and moving toward the experience she’d been hoping to have tonight despite the extra wobble in her knees. Probably from arousal—didn’t all her romance books describe it as causing weak knees?—along with that drink he’d treated her to. It had been a strong motherfucker, that was for sure.

She was sticking to beer next time.

Andi shook her head to clear it some as they navigated a set of curving stairs to the level below. When she slipped, Peter caught her, sweeping her into his arms.

A riot of giggles escaped her parted lips. She clung to his neck, hoping he wouldn’t notice how blitzed she was and turn her away. Willing herself to sober up, she concentrated on the feel of his flexing muscles beneath her cheek.

Until he ruined the moment by muttering under his breath, “Ah fuck, I might have given you too much…”

Too much?

As if he’d plunged her into a pool of ice water, every ounce of her flirty excitement vanished.

Too much what, exactly?

Immediately, the chemical formula of a half-dozen date rape drugs sprang to mind. Or at least they would have if her brain cells had functioned properly. Alcohol wasn’t the culprit here, though when mixed with whatever else he’d given her, it could amplify the effects. Oh fuck, she was in trouble.

“You drugged my drink?” Andi cringed as her accusation slurred. She wished she could slap him. Her hand felt as if it were forged from steel where it dangled by her side. So did her tongue, for that matter.

Sound assaulted her ears in garbled waves.

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