Page 64 of Soft Tissue Damage
I preen a little at the thought, arching into him as we move slowly together. Am I hoping that he’s jealous that I’m out where men can hit on me? I take a quick glance around, and I see what I didn’t notice before when I was focused on Justine and the music. This place is full of single, hungry-eyed men. Many are staring blatantly at me even though I’m in another man’s arms. Some of them are fixated on where Cullan is touching me, as if hoping his touch grows bolder so they can live vicariously through him.
Cullan’s lips graze the shell of my ear, and he says in a soft, angry growl, “They’re wishing they were in my place. They want me to touch you all over your body so they can imagine that they’re me.”
He shoots a glare around the room and gathers me closer, his jaw muscle ticking. He keeps his hands chastely on my waist, his long fingers caressing the small of my back, not giving the watching men any satisfaction.
I melt a little in his arms, feeling safe despite the press of bodies, and enjoying the hard line between his stormy brows. “Are you the jealous type, Cullan?”
I already know he is. I just love to hear him say it. No one’s ever felt such a deliciously possessive and stormy emotion about me before.
Cullan turns his attention back to me and gives me a dark smile. “Do I seem jealous right now, darlin’?”
A warm ripple flows down my body. “You’re shooting murderous looks at every man around me.”
His lips graze my throat. “I’m protective. I’m just wired that way.”
Cullan’s hands roam over my body as we dance. Not groping my ass or my breasts, but smoothing his hands over my hips and my back. Running his knuckles down the sensitive flesh under my arm to my waist. Gliding his thumbs over my hip bones. I gasp at every little touch and my whole body starts tingling.
I drop my eyes as blood heats my cheeks, and he tips my chin up to make me look at him. His lips are so close to mine, but he makes no move to kiss me. Everything he’s doing feels like foreplay, but he’s not pushing things further.
There’s a needy ache between my legs and I need to feel his mouth on mine. Is this just a dance, or does hewant more? I feel like I’m losing my mind trying to read his. I squeeze his muscular shoulders, imploring him with my eyes.
Cullan grasps my jaw and lowers his lips toward mine, but he stops short. His thumb slides over my lower lip, and then his fingertips caress my throat.
“You’re driving me crazy,” I gasp, the words slipping out without me meaning to say them.
Cullan flicks a dark glance around the room. “I can’t touch you like I want to with all these men watching.”
“No one cares what we’re doing.” I’m so close to begging for a kiss. It doesn’t matter if the whole world is watching. I need him.
“I care.” He considers me for a moment. “Do you want to see something pretty? Have you danced enough?”
I’m overheated and feeling overwhelmed by so many bodies. I nod, curious what he means by something pretty.
“Then let’s get out of here.” He grasps my hand and leads me off the dance floor.
I have just enough time to seek out Justine and wave to her.
She sees who I’m leaving with, and though her eyes sparkle with excitement for me, she still mouths,You okay?
I glance at Cullan’s large, veiny hand wrapped around mine as he leads me off the dance floor. I think I’m going to sleep with my boss. I’m obviously crazy, and the butterflies in my stomach are rioting, but I am totally okay with that. I nod quickly and smile, and she gives me an excited thumbs-up.
Cullan keeps a tight hold of my hand as we walk up the crowded street. There are people everywhere, their drunkenness more obvious out here away from the darkness and pounding music. I think I’ve danced off most of the alcohol in my bloodstream, and I’m left with a mild, pleasant buzz.
“Where are we going?” I ask Cullan.
He shoots me a mysterious smile. “Not far.”
The lights and noise of Flockton Street disappear behind us, and we turn into a quiet neighborhood with large, old, expensive houses. Streetlights cast faint yellow light, large trees cast pitch-black shadows, and there’s the distant hum of cicadas in the air.
Cullan walks up to a wrought iron gate set in a tall hedge, enters a code, and the gate opens. Beyond the gate, I can see a neat pathway and a grassy expanse, flower beds, and tall, leafy trees. A little to the left are blank, dark windows of an imposing house. Cullan holds the gate open for me and invites me to enter with a gesture.
I hesitate, overwhelmed by the feeling that we’re trespassing. “Where are we? Who lives here?”
He gives me another of those mysterious smiles and tilts his head toward the garden. If a strict, security-conscious man like Cullan thinks it’s all right to enter what’s clearly private property, then I guess it’s okay. Besides, I’m burning with curiosity to know what one of these grand Blackport residences are like on the inside.
I step inside, and I feel like I’ve entered a secret garden.
“Wow,” I breathe, looking around. All the plants and flowers look magical by moonlight. There’s the softtinkling of a water fountain ahead, and the pale gravel path gleams white. There seems to be a high brick wall surrounding the garden, turning it into a hushed, private space.
