Page 24 of Blue Hawaiian
“The dance floor, baby. Which means wefinallyget a little alone time.”
The minute she sat down, he pulled her toward him, capturing her lips in a demanding kiss. He tasted of rum and lime juice, and he clearly knew what he was doing. As he threaded his hands through her hair, she twined her tongue with his, hoping to feel a rush of desire.
But even if his technique was masterful, it left her cold.
No tingle of lust. No rush of anticipation. No throbbing ache that cried out for attention.
After another kiss, she was convinced. Lance might be a world-class stud, but he wasn’t doing it for her. The smart move would be to bow out now. But then what? Go back to her hotel room and pine over Connor?
No.She’d stick it out with Lance.
After another hour at the Blue Lagoon, she was so drunk she could barely see straight, let alone walk. Lance led her into the shuttle and stayed by her side as they entered the lobby of the hotel. With his arm around her shoulders, he guided her to the bank of elevators.
Damn, but she was smashed.
Just how much had she imbibed, anyway?
Two mai tais. Two mojitos. That idiotic Fireball. And half a rum and Coke. Three and a half drinks too many.
She tripped as she exited the elevator. Stupid heels. She couldn’t wait to get them off. Same with the too-tight dress. At this point, sex was out of the question. She was so dizzy all she wanted to do was face-plant on her bed, crash into oblivion, and forget the whole night.
“Which room number?” Lance asked.
“Umm…954. No, wait. 945.” She struggled against the fog overtaking her brain. “It’s close to the ice machine.”
Lance stopped in front of 945. As Jess stumbled on her heels—again—she was hit with a massive head rush. She had crossed the line from happily tipsy to what-the-hell-was-I-thinking. The next stop on the drunk train would be the Vomit Station, and she didnotwant to go there.
“You okay?” Lance asked.
“Not really.” Her stomach lurched.Vomit Station, dead ahead. “I think I’m done.”
“Done?” His voice hardened. “As in done drinking or done for the night?”
“For the night.” She squinted at him, aware he was scowling. “Are you mad? Don’t be mad.”
He stepped closer, his eyes clouding over with fury. “This is bullshit. You’ve been teasing me all night.”
“Back off. I can say no if I want.”
When he refused to move, she pushed him away. He retreated, making her lose her balance. She teetered, then fell, her knees hitting the carpeted hallway. The clasp of her purse popped open, and the contents spilled out. She clutched her stomach and groaned as another wave of nausea rolled over her.
She no longer cared about LanceorConnor. She just wanted this miserable night to be over.
Chapter 9
Connor rode the elevator up to his room alone. Though he’d enjoyed Luisa’s company, he had no urge to take things any further. If she was disappointed, she gave no indication. Instead, she wished him good night and went off to bed.
Not that anyone was around to hand him a trophy, but for him, this was a huge victory. It wasn’t as substantial as saving Jess from that arrogant frat boy, but better than seeking out a mindless hookup in retaliation and hurting someone in the process.
As he got off the elevator, a sharp moan drew his attention. Jess was on her hands and knees outside the door to her room, with the contents of her purse littering the hallway. Lance stood over her, a scowl etched on his face. Connor fisted his hands and strode toward them. If that bastard had hurt Jess in any way, he’d make him pay.
“What’s going on?” he growled.
Lance held up his hands. “Chill, bro. It’s nothing. Jess had too much to drink.”
“And you were planning to take advantage of her?” Connor asked. “Not cool, asshole.”
Jess pushed her curls out of her face and glared up at him. “Mind your own business. I’m not some freaking damsel in distress.”
