Page 30 of Truce: Declan
I lean my lips against her ear, my voice thick as I whisper, "If that happens, you can have mine."
"Promises, promises." Her tongue darts out and licks the top of her lip.
It takes everything in me not to ravish her in the bar. She's my saving grace, my distraction from the one thing tearing me up inside. I don't want to use her while I'm feeling this way, but the fleeting moments of happiness that Charlotte brings me overflow me with joy.
"Go out on a second date with me," I say, taking her hands in mine. We've only been together a week, and I'm not sure what we are qualifies as together.
"Tonight isn't a date?" Charlotte asks, smoothing down her jersey that looks absolutely sexy on her. "I dressed up for you." There's a warm smile grazing her lips, her eyes shine, and she sucks in a sharp breath as I study her features, taking all of it in.
I want to memorize every detail as she's making it known that she wore my number for me.
Damn right.
"I wouldn't classify drinks with the team as a date," I say, clarifying that when I wine and dine her, she'll know it's a date. Like the coffee date where I took her to the ice arena. I don't do anything half-assed. When I like a girl, I want her to know it.
"What about if we dance?" she asks, swaying her hips as she stands in front of me. She gestures for me to join her on the dance floor as she takes a small step backward, waiting for me to accompany her.
I groan but find myself drawn to her. My hands fall gently at her hips as I lean in, brushing my mouth over her ear. "You should know I don't dance."
"You don't know how?" she asks, staring up at me with wide, curious eyes.
I know how, but when you're over six feet, you lose quite a bit of grace when it comes to dancing. "You don't want to see me on that dance floor."
"Now, I really do," she says, like it's a challenge.
She grabs my hand and drags me to follow her.
"Where are you two off to?" Jasper asks, watching Charlotte pull me away from our reserved VIP table in the back of the bar.
"Dancing!" she shouts.
Jasper doesn't even attempt to hide the grin on his face. "Good luck with that! Noah is great on the ice, but have you seen him on the dance floor?"
Amber elbows him. "Be nice!" she scolds and whispers something into his ear.
"Why don't you two join us?" I shout at them before she tugs me farther from the guys, and I can't see them around one of the pillars in the room.
Her hips sway to the music, and she turns with her back to me, bumping and grinding up against me. She pulls her hair to one side, holding the long red locks as she wiggles her hips into my crotch.
For fucks' sake, how am I supposed to survive a night of this and behave?
I'm trying desperately not to rush our new budding romance, but she just lit the match for the sparks to fly.
"You dance like a goddess," I whisper into her ear, certain she can feel the bump in my pants.
She spins around to face me, and her arms wrap instantly around my neck. "Does that line work on all the girls?"
"I told you, I don't dance."
She's wearing a perfect smile while her eyes shine up at me. "You've got some good moves. I've seen them," she says. "Felt them."
Damn, the bar just got a hell of a lot hotter.
Her cheeks are red, not as fiery as her hair, but a close second. I rest my hands on her hips, my fingers holding her tight, possessively against me.
There's a camera flash from across the bar, probably some asshat taking a photo of us for their social media page. I'm used to it. Don't particularly like it, but it's nothing new.
She raises a hand to cover her face from the amateur photographer. It could be worse. The paparazzi could be stalking us at Blue Line. The club does a decent job of keeping them out; the bouncers and owner are good about letting us attempt to have some privacy.
