Chapter 2
2
[Bolan]
F uck, is she sweet.
Her eyes are as dark as the raging sea, and while we’d been a storm of licks and limbs, fingers and fucking, her demeanor has shifted. She’s almost suddenly shy, and I want to invite her back to my room more than anything.
But I can’t.
Instead, I watch as she slowly stands on weak legs and her shaky fingers fumble with the buttons of her blouse.
“Here. Let me.” While I’ve undressed plenty of women, I don’t think I’ve ever dressed someone before, but it’s evident she can’t maneuver the delicate buttons that look like tiny pearls. And something inside me wants to take care of her.
I lower my gaze to focus on my own large and clumsy fingers attempting to work the small buttons.
She’s so beautiful and familiar. Hiding in the corner when I entered this room, her stance was pensive, defensive even, but when she looked at me . . . those eyes. The deep, dark depth of them was aimed at me like a ball called to my glove, and I hadn’t had a catch like that in a long, long time.
If ever.
I’ve never experienced love.
But this woman was enticing. Those innocent eyes. That pouty lip.
Like my granddad once taught me, I want to press her between the pages of a book like a precious flower and keep her forever.
But I can’t.
Words I don’t normally allow in my vocabulary. Words that piss me off, especially when this beautiful creature is standing before me, sexed up and scented by me. The fragrance mingles with the hint of something floral yet spicy coming off her flesh. Her perfume was most noticeable in the crook of her neck where I nibbled and quickly discovered a trigger point on her. I want to bite her again and again.
But I?—
Fuck my life. And fuck the Universe for being a bitch and setting someone like her in front of me. So tempting. So sweet.
This was the last thing I expected to happen when I entered the ballroom tonight. The last place I expected to be, but Nylah wanted to see me before the event tomorrow night.
Fucking fundraiser. I get that it’s for a good cause, but in Joanna’s name? My presence here makes me nearly physically sick.
I needed what this precious woman gave me.
Flower. The nickname is so fitting. That bright hair. The shape of her face. The length of her body, all tender curves and soft spots.
I don’t want the night to end, and in another life, I’d invite her to my room. I’d spend more time with her. At least the full night.
Hell, I haven’t even asked her name.
Glancing up at her, I decide maybe it’s better if I don’t know it. I’ll only want to chase and right now I can only run in one direction—my future.
Something tells me she and I have a past. There is something undeniably recognizable about her and yet I cannot put my finger on the connection.
Asking her if we’d been together was a bit rash, even rude, but I’m not known to make smart decisions.
In fact, most people don’t believe I’m smart enough to make any decisions for myself, let alone another human being.
But as I look at this girl—this stunning woman—none of that matters. I made a decision about her. Or maybe she made the decision for me. We fucked and I won’t forget her again.
The way she responded to my kiss. Like lightning bolts and thunder strikes clapped. Maybe that was the storm outside, but still, something powerful happened between us.
And the way she clung to me, like she wanted to crawl under my skin. Staring at her, I bet a woman like her could wreck me.
The slow curl of her lips. The shyness in her smile. The lazy lift of her eyelids.
I’m used to aggressive women. Ones who tell you what they want and then take it from you.
Not this one. She didn’t ask for anything. Not my name. Not more. She gave and I received. Then I took—her sounds, her taste, her orgasms.
Fuck, she is so pretty when she unfolds. Again, flower isn’t the wrong nickname for her. She blossomed like a spring bloom. Like an awakening, which is a weird fucking comparison but the best I can do as my sluggish brain registers that my time is almost up .
Like fucking Cinderella at the ball, I only have until midnight and the time is almost here.
My shirt is a lost cause. The buttons scattered once she said she wanted to touch me. Wanted her hands on me. I almost lost it when she ran her palms over my chest, shoulders, and arms. Her touch was tender, caressing, calming, and yet, like a lick of flames, burning over my flesh and branding me. She’s made a mark. A lasting one.
As I reach for my suit coat on the floor, an awkward tension swirls around us. The aftereffect.
In the past, I might have gotten her number. Told her I’d call. Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t. The intention is clear tonight. This is one night only.
But fuck, I want a second one with her.
Instead, I hold out my hand. Quietly, she places hers in mine, and I lead her toward the dance floor. The ballroom would be pitch black if it weren’t for the natural light filtering in from the storm outside. The rain has settled to a steady drum against the windows. The beat soothing.
When we hit the middle of the floor, I stop abruptly, still holding her hand and spin her toward me. I’m not known for gracefulness and my sudden halt surprises her. She falls against my chest.
“Sorry,” she mutters, keeping her eyes lowered but I need to see them one more time.
Tipping up her chin with the side of my hand, I catch her gaze. “Dance with me.”
While there isn’t a chandelier lighting the floor, or music filling the room, I want a few more minutes to hold her against me.
“Here?” she struggles with the word.
“It is a dance floor.” The corner of my mouth ticks upward, teasing her, then my breath catches on the look in her eyes. The questioning gaze. The hesitant stare .
Ignoring anything that would make this moment complicated, I take her hand and drop my suit coat, settling my other hand on her hip. Tugging her, the sweet swell of her breasts covered in silk brushes against my bare chest in the opening exposed by my ruined shirt.
I tuck our joined hands over my heart and rock us side to side with no melody in mind other than the rattling inside my chest.
I don’t think my heart has ever hammered this hard before.
Her breath tickles my neck. Her hand fits easily in mine. Her body molds against me. I try not to think of the snug fit of my cock inside her. How she hugged me, clung to me, like she never wanted me to leave her body.
Lowering my cheek, I run it along the side of her head, inhaling her scent again.
My granddad had a garden when I was a kid. The space was his pride and joy, next to me. I can’t distinguish a rose from a daylily, but her fragrance reminds me of the bouquets he grew. The safety of his place.
I hum, both an inhale and a tune.
Too soon, an alarm on my phone is beeping, breaking into the peaceful silence of the room like a fucking fire alarm.
“Shit,” I whisper, closing my eyes for half a second and dropping back my head. “I need to go.”
I’m thankful she doesn’t ask why, but then instantly want to tell her all the reasons I can’t stay. There wouldn’t be any point, though. I’m not going to see this precious flower again.
My life is too complicated and my future more than halfway across this country if all goes well in a few days.
That’s the reason this night shouldn’t have happened, but I have no regrets.
I’ll savor these minutes, tucking them into my pocket like a cherished talisman. Then I remember the one around my neck, wishing it was some kind of magical camera that could take a snapshot of this woman. One I could look at in the future and remind me of this memory forever.
She steps out of my embrace and offers a knowing but timid smile. “I understand.”
Two words. So simple. And yet I don’t think anyone has ever understood me. I don’t think anyone knows me.
As much as I’d like to share myself with her, I just can?—
“If you don’t mind, I’d like to exit first.”
I arch a brow, smiling wide as I tease. “Don’t want to expose our little secret?”
A clandestine meeting in a ballroom. I only know the word clandestine from my mother. The woman embodied the term.
My mystery woman dips her head, dropping her gaze from me again and smooths her hand over her belly.
I tip up her chin, gently pinching at the edge below her lip before running my thumb over her lips. “I’m teasing, flower.”
She nods beneath my hold before I drop my fingers.
I’d like another kiss. One final farewell with her, but I don’t ask, feeling like I’ve already taken too much from this innocent woman.
She nods again, taking one step back, then another, leaving me standing beneath the dark chandelier, before spinning on her heels and rushing to a chair at a table near the exit. She swipes up a tote bag, hitching it over her shoulder then spins to face me.
One final glance.
Her hand wraps around the long handle and tugs the door forward but she pauses in the slim line of light streaming in from the hallway.
Guess the power in this resort isn’t out after all.
And as I watch her, she lifts her fingers to her lips before flipping them toward me, blowing on the tips like she’s extinguishing candles on a birthday cake. Making a wish on the disappearing flames.
If only I could be her wish.
And she could me mine.
But she can’t.