Page 144 of After All This Time

Little Mix's "Touch"starts pumping through the speakers, and Harper grips my arm like she's been waiting all night for this moment. "This is my song!" she squeals, practically dragging me out of the booth.

"Come dance with me," she insists, already standing. I roll my eyes, laughing, but I stand up and smooth down my skirt. As I turn to Tobias, I catch him watching me—his gaze locked on the slide of my hands down my thighs.

The hunger in his eyes isn't subtle. It's a full-body declaration, and the way it pulses through my veins is almost criminal.

"We're gonna go dance," I tell him, but I don't move right away. Instead, I lean down and press my lips to his, slow and deliberate, like I'm staking my own claim.

Harper drags me to the dance floor, and the club's heat becomes another layer of clothing pressing against me, and as we sway together, my eyes wander. They find Tobias standing to the side, his gaze burning into me.

I go feral under his stare, the way his eyes burn into me, daring me to keep dancing and push him further. He knows. He knows I'm not moving for the music anymore—I'm moving for him. Every sway of my hips, every roll of my body, is designed to drive him out of his mind.

But then I feel the unmistakable grip of his hands on my waist. My body recognizes him before my mind does, melting into his touch without a second thought.

The music pounds.

My pulse pounds harder.

Harper and Logan are devouring each other nearby, but I can't look away from the way Tobias's hands are getting bolder. His fingers trace the hem of my dress, knuckles brushing my bare thigh—a touch that's half caress, half threat.

His lips find the shell of my ear, his breath hot against my neck as he leans in. "You drive me fucking insane."

I shiver at the sound, my body arching against his as Daddy Yankee's "Gasolina" thunders around us.

Tobias's lips graze the curve of my neck. His hands tighten around me, holding me in place as our bodies move together in perfect sync. His lips trail fire across my skin, and when I tilt my head to meet his gaze, his mouth claims mine, and that's it—I'm gone.

Completely and utterly his.

The kiss is everything—desperation, need, craving. It's wild and untamed, a force that feels bigger than us, and when we finally part, there's no need for words.

We move through the crowd, dodging grinding couples and the thick haze of perfume and sweat hanging in the air. But none of it matters. The world blurs at the edges, shrinking down to the heat of his hand against my skin and the way he keeps glancing back at me. No one so much as looks our way when he pushes open the door to the ladies bathroom.

It's not exactly The Ritz, but when you're this far gone, you take what you can get. The stall door clicks shut behind us, and suddenly, it's the most romantic spot on earth because he's here, and I'm here, and nothing else matters.

Tobias moves in fast, caging me against the door. The cool metal presses into my back, a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he towers over me, closing every inch of space between us. His hands plant firmly on either side of me, his body so close I can feel every rise and fall of his chest, every ounce of his restraint hanging by a thread.

His mouth claims mine like he's starving for it, the bass from the club vibrating through the walls, mixing with the sounds of stumbling heels and drunken laughter. No one cares. Noone sees. It's just us in our dark corner of the world, where inhibitions go to die.

"I need to touch you," he whispers against my lips. His fingers find bare skin, and I nearly combust from that gentle touch alone. "Always so fucking ready for me," he growls in my ear before thrusting two fingers inside me. The sudden fullness makes me rise onto my toes, my teeth sinking into my lip to stifle my moans, even though my heart is screaming.

My nails dig crescents into his shoulders, searching for something solid as he tears me apart stroke by devastating stroke. His eyes are dark fire, burning into mine from inches away, watching me break, watching me fall, knowing exactly how close I am to shattering.

"Don't you dare come."

I nod—desperate, frantic, lying—because my body's already betraying me, hips moving with a mind of their own, chasing a high he's determined to deny. His lips brush my ear, his movements slowing to pure torture, and I swear I could kill him for it.

I need more.

I need everything.

I. Need. Him. To. Move.

"I need inside you right fucking now."

My fingers fumble with his jeans like I've never unbuttoned pants before, my hands shaking with need. The second I slip inside his boxer briefs, I can't hold back the whimper that escapes me—he's rock hard, his thick cock pulsing in my grip like it has its own heartbeat.

"Fuck me," I hiss against his mouth, biting his lower lip. "Hard."

I'm suddenly facing the door, palms pressed against it, and my dress bunches around my waist.

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