Why, Andi? Because you want it, him, for yourself?
“I am an idiot.” The seriousness in his voice moves through me, bringing my attention back to him.
His eyes hold mine, and something unknown in them captivates me. But I want to know. And it’s how badly I want to know that is scaring the hell out of me right now.
Usher ends, and Rihanna begins singing “Diamonds.”
“I’m sorry about China,” he says the words so softly.
My eyes dip, right along with my heart. The grip my fingers had on his dinner jacket loosens. “I know.” I sigh lightly. “You’ve already said. And I already told you, you didn’t do anything wrong.”
His fingers find my chin, lifting my face to his. “Yes, I did. I proved to you that I’m everything you think I am. You stopped our kiss because you think I’m a player, that I use women.”
“You do use women, and you are a player. But that’s not why I stopped kissing you.”
His brows pull together as his hand moves back to my waist. “So, why?”
“Because I don’t get involved with drivers.”
“You say that a lot.”
“I say it because it’s true.”
“And why exactly don’t you get involved with drivers?”
“Aside from the fact that I work for them…for you.” I flash him a serious stare before looking away. “I have my reasons.”
“Ones you’re not going to tell me?”
My eyes come back to his, giving him my answer.
“And what if I wasn’t a driver? Would you have sex with me then?”
My body jolts at his words, and he feels it. And he definitely likes my response. I can tell from the smile touching the edge of his lips.
“Jesus, you’re so bloody…forward.”
“You don’t get anywhere in life by going backward.”
Does he have an answer for everything?
“Exactly how did we go from me not getting involved with drivers to you and I having sex?”
“We haven’t gotten to the sex yet. Trust me. When we do, you’ll know.”
“Yet?”
“Yes. Now, answer the question.”
How to answer? It’s hard to focus with him so close—his scent filling my head, his hands touching me and clouding my judgment.
“You’re my friend, Carrick…” I let my voice drift, my words linger.
“That’s not an answer. And the reason you won’t answer is because you’re afraid.”
Afraid doesn’t even cut it. I’m terrified. Terrified of what this all means. Of what’s going to happen. Because if he makes a move, I know for certain that I won’t be able to stop him…because I don’t want to.
“Shall I answer for you?” His voice is low, decadent.
Licking my dry lips, I nod.
He moves in, his mouth so very close to mine. His breath blows over my lips, drying the moisture I just gave them, and his stare is doing all kinds of extraordinary things to me.
“Your answer is yes, you would. You’re afraid to say it out loud because you know, once you do, it makes it real—this thing between us—and then you won’t be able to stop it from happening. What, deep down inside, you know is inevitable.”
Is he a mind reader?
He tilts his head back a touch, so his eyes are level with mine. “How did I do?”
My eyes drift to his mouth. His full perfect lips. God, I want to taste them again.
Focus, Andi.
I force my eyes away, and with a shrug of the shoulder, I say, “You did…meh.”
Meh? Jesus, what the hell was that?
I’m dying right now.
Fucking dying.
I close my eyes on a long blink. When I open them, I see a smile has kicked up the corners of his mouth while his eyes continue to fuck the hell out of me.
“Meh?” Low laughter rumbles in his chest. “Jesus, Andressa. Well, deny it all you want, but you know it’s true. You want me to fuck you.”
“And you want to fuck me,” I fire back.
“Sure I do. I’m not the one denying it here.” He lifts his hand from my waist to cup my cheek, his thumb touching dangerously close to my lips. “So, what do you say?”
“To what?”
“Fucking.”
“I’d say you’re seriously overconfident about it.”
He throws his head back on a deep laugh. It makes me glow inside.
A smile is still touching his eyes when he says, “You say that now. It’ll be a different story afterward.”
“Won’t I be calling you a bastard afterward?” I refer to our earlier conversation.
“Probably. But do you care about that right now?”
Do I?
I shake my head before even realizing what I’m doing.
I see lust burst to life in his eyes, and I feel it in every part of me.
We’re still dancing, but I don’t feel so awkward anymore. Now, I just feel turned on like I never have before. I feel connected to him. So very connected. Attuned to his body.
My skin is burning hot like a furnace. My hands are itching to touch him in places I really shouldn’t.
His fingers slide into my hair, and it feels like heaven. He moves closer to me, leaving hardly any space between us.
“I love your hair down.”
There’s a low groan to his voice that makes my belly quiver, in turn making me want to pull him in the rest of the way. Bring him in to the point where I don’t know where he begins and I end.
He twists strands of my hair around his fingers. “From the moment I saw you in the garage, bent over my car with your hair tied up, I haven’t been able to get the image out of my mind of me unraveling it and getting my hands all tangled up in it while I fuck you—hard.”