Page 51 of Perfect Convergence

Absolute trust.

She throws her arms around me, pressing a kiss to my jaw. “You’re perfect.” Then she tilts her head, narrowing her eyes at me. “And really good at eyeliner.”

I try not to, but my body goes rigid. It’s something I normally wear when we go out, but tonight, the only reason I put it on was because Elliot would’ve beat my ass bright red if I hadn’t.

I would’ve enjoyed it, but still.

“You don’t mind that I’m wearing it?”

She gapes at me. “Mind it? Oliver. It’s sexy as hell. And it makes me want to kiss you senseless. Mmm. And—and fuck you, too.”

I grin. “Soon, princess. For now, let’s keep dancing.”

After giving me another kiss, she does.

It only takes her a half hour, and then she’s seeming much more like herself. Makes sense, considering she didn’t have that much alcohol.

Still, I don’t want to rush things.

I lean in, my lips brushing against her ear, smiling to myself when she melts at the light touch. “I’m going to get you some water.”

With a quick glance to make sure Elliot and Rhett are watching her, I leave her and grab a cup of water. As I’m making my way back over to her, I notice Ludo staring in her direction.

No, not in her direction. At her.

The heated interest in his eyes has my stomach roiling with disgust. He doesn’t even deserve to be in the same room as her. My steps quicken, and I have to avert my eyes before someone catches me giving Ludo a scathing glare.

I’m not possessive. Really, I’m not.

Okay, maybe I am. A little.

Because when I get back to Wren, I don’t hand her the water. Instead, I wrap an arm around her waist and pull her into me. Her hands are instantly on my chest, grabbing at my shirt, as I seal my lips to hers in a... yeah. It’s a possessive damn kiss, and I don’t fucking care. Ludo can keep his hands—and his eyes—to himself.

“Oliver,” she gasps when I finally release her.

Handing her the water, I lean in close. “Drink up.”

She takes the cup and gulps half of it down.

“Good girl.”

She practically glows at my praise.

We stick to the dance floor for a couple more minutes. The entire time, I keep my hands on her in some capacity. The way her body moves against mine is intoxicating, and I also want to make sure Ludo knows his fucking place: far away from Wren.

Eventually, I grab her hand and tug. She follows me without question, and I pull her into a deserted back hallway. Once we’re around a corner and out of sight, I pin her to the wall and capture her mouth with mine.

Her fingers thread into my hair as she tries to get as close to me as possible. Considering the desperation that’s been building up in her ever since I teased her at home, she’d probably let me strip her down right here.

Not that I would.

Her hand slips under the front of my shirt, and I groan into her mouth. It only eggs her on, and as our kiss deepens, her hips roll into mine slowly.

When I pull away, her eyes are unfocused and heavy-lidded, and her breaths are coming out in short pants.

“I’m sober enough, Oliver. I promise.”

Tracing the outline of her jaw, I say, “And impatient.”

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