Page 72 of Because I Liked A Boy
My throat tightened. “You wouldn’t dare. Not in public.”
He leaned until his breath ghosted my ear, laugh low and wrecked. “Try me.”
Heat coiled through me. I set the glass down and felt his hand slide lower, settling heavy on my thigh, thumb drawing slow circles beneath the hem of my dress.
“Hunter—”
He smirked. “Relax, princess. I’m only touching what you’re letting me touch.” His fingers pressed firmer. “And you haven’t told me to stop.”
“You’reinsufferable.”
“Mm.” He leaned back, hand still where it was. “And you love it.”
He was right, and that annoyed me more than anything.
I finished the Martini and stood. “Come on. If you’re that worked up, let’s burn it off.”
“Burn it off how?” he asked.
“Darts.” I nodded toward the back wall where the board hung above a scarred table. “Unless you’re scared I’ll beat you again.”
His smirk went lethal. “Princess, the only thing you’re beating tonight is my self-control.”
He followed with his hand at the small of my back, thumb stroking my spine. He let me throw first, leaning against the wall, beer bottle dangling from tattooed fingers. I lined up, released, and the dart landed just shy of the bull.
“Not bad,” he said, stepping behind me until his chest pressed to my back. His hand slid over mine to steady my grip. “But here’s a tip…”
His other hand settled on my hip, firm and possessive. I felt him hard and unmistakable. My breath hitched.
“Hunter—”
“Focus, princess.” His lips brushed my ear. “You’ll never hit the target if you’re shaking this bad.”
I swallowed a laugh and let him guide my hand. He whispered filthy things meant only for me. “Bet you’re soaking through that pretty little dress just from me standing this close.”
The dart clattered dead centre.
“Bullseye,” I said, smug.
His grin was sinful. “Yeah. You fucking are.”
He didn’t move away. If anything, his grip tightened. “You said something earlier about not doing this before,” he murmured.
My throat closed. “Hunter—”
“Don’t deflect.” He adjusted my fingers, caging me to the table. “What did you mean?”
Heat crawled up my neck. I forced it out. “Dates. Choices. I’ve never been the one picking.”
The playful edge in his smirk softened into something raw. He pressed his forehead to mine. “No one ever let you choose?”
I shook my head. “Everything was arranged. Expected. My father’s idea. I went along.” My voice broke. “You’re the first one I actually wanted for me.”
His jaw flexed. “Fuck, princess.” He held me there, breath hot. “Do you know what that does to me?”
“You look like you want to eat me alive.”
He laughed, low and dangerous. “Because I do. You’ve always been mine. The fact I get to be your first real choice? That’s what’s keeping me from bending you over this table right now.”
