Page 36 of The List
The disco ball flickers in the reflection of his glasses, but beyond that, his eyes are molten. His gaze locks with mine, and we stare at each other across the room.
Beside me, the dancer has moved on to Kristin. I hear Kristin giggle when the other woman slides into her lap, but I barely notice. Spectators on all sides of us are cheering, but I’m still locked in Simon’s gaze. We’re twenty feet apart, but I can feel him like he’s next to me. Inside me. I lick my lips and touch a hand to my cleavage, which feels like it’s on fire. He smiles, and mouths three words that send a searing bolt of lust straight through my core.
I want you.
My mouth goes dry. I want him, too, more than I’ve ever wanted anyone in my life.
Kristin grabs my hand, and I break the force field of Simon’s gaze to turn back to her. “Wasn’t that fun?”
I smile and nod like an idiot. “Yeah. I guess I can cross that off The List.”
Wait. Can I? There was technically no kiss. I’m trying to decide whether to give myself a mulligan on this one when Kristin presses for more.
“You have a list?”
“Yeah.” I give her a sheepish smile and shrug. “It’s this stupid list I made for my sisters. Long story. I was supposed to kiss a girl, but I think getting groped by a dancer is close enough.”
“Oh, sweetie.” She grins and puts her palms on my shoulders. Her eyes are pretty and blue, and she’s close enough for me to see a smattering of freckles on her nose. “See that guy over there? The one by the bar wearing the red T-shirt.”
She gestures with the tip of one manicured finger, and I glance toward the bar. Standing off to the side is a tall guy with a handsomely-stubbled jaw and dark eyes that are fixed on Kristin. He’s smiling a little, but there’s a heat in his expression that reminds me of the look I just saw from Simon.
Simon, whose gaze I can feel on the side of my face.
I turn back to Kristin. “Is he your boyfriend?”
“Husband. It’ll be five years next month. Want to know the best anniversary present I could give him?”
“What?” I’m surprised by the breathlessness in my voice, and I think I might know what she’s going to say.
“To see his wife—a tired mother of two—kiss another woman.”
There’s nothing in Kristin’s pretty features that says “tired-looking,” and my heart pounds with the knowledge that I want to kiss her. Not the same way I want to kiss Simon, but also not just for The List.
I want it for me.
Before I have time to think about it, I lean in close and brush my lips against hers.
She’s soft—softer than any man I’ve kissed—and I feel myself melting into those lips. Suddenly, I can tell we’re both into this. Her tongue touches mine, timidly at first. I respond like it’s the most natural thing in the world, tilting my head to deepen the kiss. She gives a soft little sigh, and I tunnel my fingers into her hair, letting those silky curls slide between them as her tongue brushes mine again. It’s a sweet kiss, but still passionate. Not a kiss to make me swear off men, but one I’ll remember for a good long time.
I draw back first and slowly let go of her. I smile into those blue eyes, and Kristin smiles back.
“You’re an excellent kisser,” I tell her.
She laughs and tosses a look back at her husband. He’s walking our direction, and I suspect Kristin is about to get very, very lucky. “I’ll tell him you said so.”
I don’t even realize the song has ended until several people stand up around me. I get to my feet, surprised to realize my knees aren’t shaking anymore. I scan the room for Simon, hoping he saw the kiss. Hoping he looks at me with even a fraction of the desire I see on Kristin’s husband’s face as he hustles her toward the door.
“Cassie.”
I turn at the sound of Simon’s voice. He’s standing behind me with my coat in his hand and a smoldering look in his eyes. I don’t know what makes me glance down at the front of his pants, but I smile at the evidence that he’s as turned on as I am. My pulse hammers in my ears, and I find myself having a very tough time swallowing.
“Want to get out of here?” His voice is low and suggestive, and I wonder if we’ll even make it home. We took an Uber here, neither of us wanting to drive if we were going to be drinking.
I’m regretting that decision.
I lick my lips and nod. “Let’s go.”
We don’t even make it to the front door. We spot a dark little alcove near the restrooms, and he pulls me into it. I watch as Simon grabs the handle of a door labeled Do Not Enter and I’m too dizzy with lust to question whether this is a good idea. Maybe he tipped an employee for access to the broom closet, or maybe we’re doing something that’s going to get us arrested.
