Page 22 of Wildest Dreams

“Aisling,” I bark, my tone a clear warning.

The second that she glances around at me over her shoulder I hook my forearm around her belly, bringing her gorgeous body abruptly up against mine.

“Aisling, Jesus Christ,” I growl as she spins around in my hold, our fronts mashing together as the crowd heaves all around us. I mean, I was mainly coming to see her so that I could prize Tristan’s hands off her body, but I was also coming to see her so that I could offer up some free labour for her reno.

But now that we’re chest to chest, her baby pink stiletto heel stabbing purposefully into my boot, the only thing that I can think of is pulling her in tighter. Maybe ticking off the kissing section on her summer bucket list.

She might still be digging her nails into my chest like she wants to rip me limb from limb but she surprises the hell out of me when she purrs, “Thanks for the wood.”

She’s talking about the lumber that I chopped for her fireplace, but it sure as shit doesn’t feel like that’s what she’s referring to right now.

I grunt and shift my boots wider, well aware that she can feel what’s happening in my jeans.

“Plenty more where that came from,” I rumble.

“You spoil me,” she teases, using that husky voice to toy with me.

My eyes flash back to hers and I murmur, “I wish.”

“Whatever.” She rolls her eyes. “Why were you at the booth watching me like a stalker?”

“Good question, Aisling. Why were you grindin’ on my teammates?”

She leans up and whispers, “Maybe they’re on my bucket list.”

I smirk down at her, fired up. “Is watching me murder them also on your bucket list?”

But there’s something about the moment – her smiling mischievously up at me and me smirking down at her, my biceps caging around her body so that no-one steps into her space – that makes the air between us change. It’s one of thosewhat could have beenmoments, where it’s just Aisling and me, hands all over each other, looking into each other’s eyes like we’re sharing a secret that no-one else is in on.

She’s breathing in quick little pants, making her chest pump rapidly against mine, and it’s so soft and sexy that I just stand there in silence. Blinking down at her in awe, taking in how beautiful she is.

“Aisling,” I murmur, my palm on her back sliding up so that I can hold her more securely.

I swallow hard, refusing to drop her gaze, and I steel my jaw as I build up the nerve to tell her how perfect she looks tonight. And not just because she’s wearing a bad-girl dress that I want to rip clean off her body, but because, for the briefest moment, I can see that sweet girl-next-door blush, showing me that she feels this too. This chemical pull that made us reckless from the start.

I look down at her mouth and instinctively pull her closer. Then my eyes flick to one of her baby pink straps, draping down her arm, and I hook my fingers underneath it so that I can tug it back up into place.

“Goddamn,” I grunt, frowning down at the strap. “Damn thing won’t move.”

“It’s made that way,” she whispers back to me, her eyes flickering with intrigue and panic.

I keep my focus on the strap so that I can’t get lost in her beautiful eyes. “Been driving me insane all night.”

“The dress or the girl wearing it?”

I breathe out a humourless laugh. “Both.”

“Would it help if I took it off?” she breathes quietly and my eyes flash down to hers.

I walk her back a step. “Don’t say it if you don’t mean it,” I rumble. My voice is so deep that I watch her nipples stiffen beneath the baby pink fabric.

I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip, feeling my cock grow even heavier.

“That’s also on my bucket list,” Aisling pants, her knees knocking against mine.

“What?” I rasp, my eyes raking over her tits.

“That,” she breathes, pointing to her right.

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