Page 12 of Heated Rivals
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James wasn’t wrong. Across the careful distance he’d created between their bodies, he had no problemspicking out the signs of desire. Her pulse fluttered, heart beating too hard; her pupils dilated, and her nipples pressed against the thin fabric of her sad excuse for a dress. The damn thing barely covered her from breasts to ass, and the fit was enough to tell anyone who cared to look that she wore nothing underneath. It wasn’t the same one she’d worn the night they hooked up, but it was close enough to make his mouth water. The fire in her eyes as she did her best to take him out at the knees only made him want her more.
He leaned closer, still keeping the precious inches between their bodies. He might want this woman more than sanity, but she was like some kind of wild creature that’d wandered into his life. One false move and it was over. Letting her go last night was the right thing to do. He’d piqued her curiosity, added a healthy dose of anger and, maybe, she felt even a sliver of the desire that threatened to take his common sense and turn him into a goddamn fool.
But he had to play this right or she’d be gone for good. It’d be better for both of them if she was. Smarter. But taking the safe and smart road didn’t stand a chance with a woman like her looking at him withthatexpression in her eyes. His lips brushed her ear, her rose scent teasing him. “I’m not wrong, lovely. You crave me the same way I crave you.”
“I don’t.” The words were barely more than a whisper, almost lost in the demanding beat drifting up from the dance floor.
“You do. And if I slipped my hand up your dress, I’d find you wet and wanting.” Fuck, he wanted to do just that. Only sheer stubbornness kept his free hand away from her when she shivered. “It wouldn’t take much, would it? A few strokes to make your eyes slide shut andyour head fall back. Circle that sensitive little clit of yours and feel you come apart around me.”
Her back arched, so slight that he would have missed it if every fiber of his being wasn’t focused on her. “No…”
He had to get the fuck away from her before he did exactly what he’d just described. The VIP room was far from packed and, even if it hadn’t been, no one would blink an eye at two people hooking up in the shadows. But it wouldn’t get him anywhere with Carrigan, aside from a few moments of pleasure. Then she’d be gone, and he had the feeling he wouldn’t be seeing her again in the near future—if ever.
That didn’t suit his purposes one goddamn bit.
So he pressed a soft kiss to the sensitive spot behind her ear and backed the fuck off. When she turned and blinked those big green eyes at him, he almost threw caution to the wind and kissed her. Only the knowledge that it wouldn’t stop with a kiss, wouldn’t stop until he was buried between her thighs, kept him from giving in. “I’ll be seeing you, Carrigan O’Malley.”
Still holding her gaze, he grabbed his beer and drained the rest of it. He’d already taken care of the tab with the bartender, so he stood and, with one last look at her, walked away. It felt unnatural to do it, but it was becoming increasingly clear that the fire in his blood for Carrigan wasn’t going away. He’d been so sure it would, that seeing her again would be enough to bring common sense rushing back and remind him that she was the enemy and he’d done the right thing when he’d chosen his family over her.
Except that certainty hadn’t come last night. And it sure as fuck wasn’t here tonight, either.
All he could think about as he strode downthe stairs to the main club floor was that he’d well and truly fucked up. She was within her rights to never forgive him. Hell,hewouldn’t forgive him if he was in her position.
And wanting her forgiveness had nothing at all to do with the damn album.
“Fuck.” He settled into an empty spot at the bar and waited. Just because he was giving her space didn’t mean he was going to leave before seeing her safely into a cab. She wouldn’t thank him for the babysitting detail, but he’d never forgive himself if something happened to her because he wasn’t watching.What the hell am I thinking? Somethingishappening to her. He’d hoped against hope that the rumor he’d heard about her old man selling her off to one of his allies was false.
The look on her face had told him otherwise.
Knowing she was destined for a political marriage was like watching a hawk get its wings clipped, or a tiger be declawed. While it was possible that she’d maintain the fiery personality and streak of wildness that called to him on a level he wasn’t prepared to deal with… it was just as likely that her future husband would kill that part of her, leaving a dead-eyed Stepford wife in her place.
The thought burned. Beating some sense into Seamus O’Malley sounded satisfying as fuck, but ultimately it wouldn’t change anything.NothingJames did would change anything.
And hell if that knowledge didn’t stick in his throat.
The minutes ticked by, but it wasn’t too long before Carrigan appeared at the top of the stairs like some kind of fallen angel. He couldn’t see her eyes from where he stood, but he imagined her a queen surveying her kingdom. The moment her gaze landed on him, her bodywent tense. He waited, curious to see what she’d do. She marched down the stairs, her hips swinging with each step. But instead of coming to give him a piece of her mind, she shot him a look and disappeared onto the dance floor.
That shit was a dare if he ever saw one.
He was moving before he made a decision to, stalking after her. People took one look at him and parted like the Red Sea. He walked through them without pausing, stopping when he caught sight of her, her hands above her head, her eyes closed, her body moving with the writhing beat of the song.
She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His plans to keep his distance went up in a puff of smoke and he closed the space between them, needing to touch her more than he needed his next breath. James slipped behind her, resting his hands on her hips. It took all of three seconds to pick up her rhythm and match it, fitting himself behind her. She arched back against him, her arms looping around his neck and her head resting on his chest as they ground together.
Stupid.This wasn’t part of the plan, wasn’t part of keeping control of the situation. Because if anyone was in control right now, it was Carrigan. She guided him with the rolling of her hips, her ass against his cock, the heat of her searing through his clothes as if they didn’t exist.
Unable to help himself, he coasted his hands up her sides to frame her ribs, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts with every other beat. She moved closer in response, rotating in his grasp until they faced each other, her chest pressed against his chest and her fingers twined in his hair. She went onto her tiptoes, dragging her body up his, and he groaned inresponse. “James?”
“Yeah, lovely?” A little voice tried to pipe up to point out that he’d give her damn near anything with her moving against him like this, but he ignored it, waiting for her answer.
“I might want you…” He tightened his grip on her hips. She laughed, a sound he felt more than heard. “But you try that manipulative shit on me again, and I will go for your throat.” And then she was gone, slipping through his arms like smoke. He stood there like a damn fool, sporting a hard-on for the record books and watching her walk away. He shook his head and followed. Head games or not, his needing to see her safely to a cab hadn’t changed.
Fuck, he was almost proud of her for turning the tables on him so efficiently, even if he was going to suffer for it physically. He could weather a little suffering and, to be honest, he’d seen a whole hell of a lot worse. James grinned. He followed her out of the club, letting her pull ahead, and leaned against a wall as she flagged down a cab. Only once it veered back out into traffic did he turn and head for his ride.
Damn that woman, but he only got more intrigued with each interaction. He looked forward to seeing what the next one brought.
That small voice in his head tried to pipe up again, tried to remind him that she wasn’t his and never would be, but he ignored it. She wasn’t married yet and if she was willing to play, he was more than willing to go the distance.
