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“I’m following my gut.” He clears his throat. “Would you like to dance?”
I’m wide-eyed with confusion. Dance? What does dancing have to do with this? This man is an enigma.
“Miss Monteiro, you don’t get to know someone by asking questions. You get to know someone by sharing moments,” he adds.
“And Mr. LeBeau, I bet the moments you’re used to sharing with women are the ones without clothes involved. And I’m not that type of columnist.”
“I actually prefer the hunt. I’m a competitor, after all.” A self-confident smirk slides onto his face. He is overly aware of the impact his words have on me. “And I’m not asking the columnist in you to dance with me, but the woman.” He finishes his drink in one go. “I believe neither of us wants to talk about our jobs tonight.”
“Be careful not to crash again, Wolf. I doubt your alpha male ego could cope with it,” I tease him.
But my amusement stops when I spot Stephan’s gaze on me across the dance floor. His vile eyes daring me to be the weak woman he knew. But tonight, I’ll make the right choice and will not redo the mistakes of my past. My attention turns back to Aaron who’s awaiting my next move. I conclude this is the worst timing for Wolf and me to have met. My need to escape forces me to play with fire, without caring about the consequences, while he’s looking for prey to hunt. This could only end up in breaking each other’s rules. An exchange of privacy—that none of us would have planned.
He slides his palm to my lower back, a gesture not pushy and yet teasing enough to send guilty goose bumps over my whole body. “When I want something, I always get it. And I intend to prove it to you. Shall we?”
I should hate his arrogance. I’ve never met someone who sends so many red flags, who represents everything I despise. A controlling alpha. An endless player. The type of man who believes he’s royalty, the world bowing at his feet. But for an unknown reason, I feel the need to get closer.
Heart against head. That’s how obsession triumphs over reason.
I know I’m going to regret this choice. I’m no match for him. I let him lead me to the center of the dance floor where everyone is dancing as if the world ends tomorrow. Their eyes are stuck on Wolf, observing him from afar without daring to approach him. They are all an appeal to sex and sensuality, but me—I’m not like them. I don’t dirty dance, I don’t jump in the air recklessly, I don’t party. I’m always in control.And he seems to be, too.
He clutches my waist and connects our bodies to the pulsing tempo of the music. His fingers travel from my spine to my waist, his eyes boring into mine. He is playing a game, a game of control, a game of lust—and I’m giving him the answer he demands. Moving my hips. Tangling my fingers into my hair. Touching my neck.
I’m notsweet.Not anymore.
He spins me around, my back now facing his torso. I twirl my hips on him, my eyelids closing, my head rotating slowly backward. I’m losing control, unleashing something I thought I lost in myself. I feel alive. His hands take control of my hips, commanding my movements to his pace. His breath on my neck, his woody musky scent invading my senses, heating up my body. I let the intoxication of him, of the alcohol, lead me to an unknown territory.
But I won’t submit so easily to him. I push him to his own limits, my hands fondling my waist, the edges of my breasts, then through my hair. He reels me around for our longing eyes to connect, the azure-blue of his gaze now a dark black like a tormented ocean, betraying his growing desire.
A game of power, that’s what we are playing.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman. But I promise you, if I lose control, I won’t be able to be one any longer,” he threatens me.
He brushes my cheek with his fingers before cupping my nape with his hand. We’re disconnected from what’s happening around us. The crowd is jumping. Confetti is exploding. Smoke is rising. And me, I’m consumed by a burning heat, a need for proximity. His face so close to mine is tormenting my ability to resist him. I want to feel again.
“Unless you want me to lose control,” he mutters under his breath.
He waits for my signal to break the few inches separating us. My lips urge to taste his. I open my mouth, panting, ready to push my boundaries. Just a step. My past collides with my present.I’m not sweet.I need to be someone else. Someone free just for one night. Tonight, I’ll get to know who Wolf is.
His predator charm lures me in, his sweet lips so close to mine they could almost touch. “Tell me to stop or I won’t.”
Fuck it. “Aaron. Take me away.”
He captures my hand and leads me in the direction of the elevators. We find our way toward all the people dancing, kissing, making decisions they’ll probably regret the morning after. Once inside, we don’t say a word to each other. When the doors close, the only sound is the one of our panting breaths, of our animal connection, of the inevitable that is about to happen.
I swallow, excitement melting with anticipation, owning me. His gaze meets mine, trying to read my needs, my desire for him. But the problem is not what I desire, it’s the reason why I desire him. I shouldn’t want him. But he is what I need. Aaron LeBeau is no Prince Charming, no white knight—he is something else entirely. Something powerful.
“You wanted to know me, Elle? You are about to,” his raspy tone promises, while all I can think of is only one thing.Kiss me.
Without warning, as if he could read my mind, his lips crash onto mine, a wave of pleasure intoxicating me. Aaron LeBeau’s kisses are everything I’ve expected them to be. Passionate. Demanding. Urgent. I melt under the fierce heat of his drugging kiss. I’m at his mercy as he pushes his tongue in my mouth, possessing me. His lips move over my jaw, my chin, before nibbling on my neck.
He lifts me up, my thighs bracing on his hips when we arrive on his floor. I’m caught in a crossfire, a crossfire that is Aaron LeBeau. He kisses me with a greedy hunger surpassing everything I’d expect while we enter his suite. I don’t pay attention to what is around us, all my attention is focused on him. He creates in me the need to sin, the need to taste darkness. He is demanding more, making me oblige to him, taking control of me, until the point when my primal craving possesses me.
I can’t deny the carnal passion between us, and yet, it is more than just a desire of lust. It is a desire to escape. Two lost souls using each other.
We crash on his bed, the satin sheets caressing my back, as his herculean body covers mine. I’m falling down the rabbit hole, losing myself into his Adonis features. I bite my lower lip, losing my senses, welcoming all the new inebriated sensations. I don’t drink. I don’t have one-night stands. I don’t do reckless. I giggle, a heat burning inside of me, alcohol probably intoxicating my veins. He furrows his eyebrows, analyzing my face with deep intensity, like he’s battling something. I urge his body closer to mine, my back arching, yearning for his touch, opening my mouth to taste his lips once more. Wolf has me where he wants, at his mercy, but he doesn’t act.
“You’re not yourself,ma belle.”
