22. Will
Chapter twenty-two
Will
My arm is firmly locked around Mia’s waist as we enter the restaurant. It has been transformed into a winter wonderland ballroom sometime between lunch and this evening. Everyone looks as if they have just stepped off the red carpet. I’m fucking glad I rented a tux for tonight.
“How do these people look rich?” Mia mutters into my ear as we wait at the bar. She drops her head against my shoulder and shakes against me as she giggles. I love having these little inside jokes with her. She’s right, though, they do look rich. Some of them almost glow, as if you can see their net worth. I can see more expensive watches right now than I’d see in a top-of-the-line jeweler.
“Do you reckon that woman is wearing actual fur?” Mia nods her head toward a woman who looks to be wearing mink. At least, that’s what I think mink looks like. I shrug one shoulder. At least she’s uncomfortable too. I bet she can afford one of everything in the room, as well as the actual room—actually, she already owns the room—but it makes me feel better that she seems to feel out of place as well. I wonder how long it will be until this is her new norm.
“Don’t worry, you don’t look like that.” I pat Mia on the arm consolingly. “Not yet.” I fake dodge her faux glare, laughing as I pass her a flute of champagne. It’s an open bar, of course. I’d promised myself I’d stick to three or four tonight so I can keep my wits about me, but in my experience, keeping your drinking under control is more challenging when servers bring the drinks directly to you.
I grab a beer with one hand, and Mia with the other, electricity sparking between us when our hands touch. I wonder if she felt it too. She leads me through the crowd to a bar leaner on the other side of the dance floor.
Mia pops her tiny, impractical black bag on the table, sipping from her champagne glass while we both survey the room.
Whoever decorated the place has done a fantastic job. The edges of the room are now draped with decadent velvet curtains, drawn open on the side facing the mountain to show the gently lit snow beyond, as if the window is a giant movie screen. Around the edges, fake snow is piled tastefully around in a way that looks intended to bring people toward the center of the room, and based on the number of people on the dance floor, it’s working. There are decorative, anatomically correct crystal reindeer, and curiously, the occasional bunny, artfully placed in the snow drifts, glinting in the light. The ceiling is decorated with groups of silver and glass baubles. Six massive trees of varying size are strategically placed around the room. I’m almost certain the trees are not real pines, rather, good fakes, but the air smells crisp and piney, and reminds me of going to the Christmas tree lot as a child on a cold December morning to pick a tree in the great outdoors.
I can’t take my eyes off Mia tonight. She is gorgeous. As she looks around the room, her long hair swishes from side to side, grazing her waist, right where I wish my fingers were right now. She returns her gaze to me, speckled green eyes sparkling in the light.
“What?” Her voice cracks.
“Just you. You’re stunning.” I take a swig of my beer. “I’m glad you invited me.”
She bumps her shoulder into my chest and gives me a little smile. “I’m really glad you came and agreed to be my fake boyfriend.” Her eyes dance in the light.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the world, babe.” I wink, smoothing my hand down the length of her back. I’ll be having a lot of fun tonight seeing how far I can get with this boyfriend business. She wraps her arms around my neck, burying her face into the curve of my neck. I run my hand across the small of her back, to her hip. “There’s my Limpet,” I breathe into her hair.
She reaches out, putting her hand on my chest. “Will you dance with me later?”
“No,” I say, waiting a beat until a tiny flash of hurt flicks across her face. “I’ll dance with you right now. Come on,” Pure joy illuminates her face, and I want to bathe myself in it.
“ Can you dance?” She asks as we watch other couples moving toward the dance floor. “Joel never would dance with me.” I ignore that—I don’t want to think about her ex right now. I definitely don’t want her thinking about her ex.
“Didn't you already ask me to dance with you?” I grin, then see her hesitation. “Wait, can you dance?”
“How hard can it be?” She shrugs. Her self-conscious smile is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “I’m feeling brave tonight.”
“Come on,” I say, pulling her gently toward the dance floor. “Follow me, move your body with mine. Don't fight the direction, don't look down.”
“Don't look down? This isn't a glass bridge, Will.” With my hands on her hips, I guide her in front of me, sliding through a busier group of people.
I speak over her shoulder into her ear. “If you look at your feet, your body will be facing the wrong direction. You'll be more likely to trip.” She glances behind her, a frown etched on her face. I laugh. “Don't ask me, I'm not a dance scientist. That's just what I was taught. Don't look down. Just look at me.” As if there is anywhere else I’d ever want her to look.
“Okay.” She has a look of grim determination.
When we make it to the dance floor, I take her hand, and snake my other hand around her waist. “Relax, Mia,” I say, looking down at her. "It's a dance, not a firing squad."
She lets out a big sigh and melts into my body.
My heart—and cock—swell.
As we dance, I let my hand slide lower down her hip until it’s resting just above her ass. She suctions closer and closer to me as I circle my hand lower and lower on her back.
Our teasing gets more and more overt, and our touching becomes firmer and more urgent until I grasp her hip so firmly that she gasps quietly. I love it, but no matter how much I love it, I need her to be okay with this. Leading her by the elbow, I take her to an empty table.
“We have to set some ground rules before this gets out of hand,” I whisper into her ear. I can’t resist stooping lower to kiss the curve of her neck.
“Ground rules are good. At this rate, we’ll be kicked out of here before midnight.” Her lip skims the sensitive skin below my ear, sending a shiver straight down my spine. “What do you have in mind?”
I draw back, checking she’s all in. I can see the want in her eyes, and I want to show her that she can be brave. That it could work out between us. That it could be great, even.
“Maybe tonight, we’re that couple who just want each other too much to wait until they get back to their room.” Her lips part. We both know we’re approaching the line between pretending to be that couple, and actually being that couple. Fast.
She nods. “I’m game.” She gives me a determined smile. “Seriously, I want to. Tonight, I want to be brave and not worry about anything else.”
“Good.” I roughly skim her neck with my teeth, gentle enough not to leave a trace. “But you have to tell me if you need to have a break, okay? If it’s getting too much, let me know.”
“Should we have…like a safe word?”
I raise my eyebrows. An interesting choice of words from her. Maybe she’s less vanilla than I’ve always imagined. Interesting . I nod. “Yeah, a safeword, sure. Good idea.”
She looks around. “How about cucumber?”
I laugh. “Fine with me, as long as we remember it.”
Another beer, twenty minutes on the dance floor which consists of the most physical flirting and light petting I have ever participated in my life, and I can’t take the anticipation anymore.
“Okay, I need a break before I explode.” I don’t elaborate, but she knows exactly what I mean.
We make our way back to a bar leaner for a breather. Her hand on my chest, eyes locked on mine.
“Is this okay?” she asks. I nod, and her mouth meets mine. She tastes like champagne and toothpaste, and smells like vanilla and berries; like all my dreams come true. She presses the full length of her body against mine. The beading of her dress digs into my stomach. Will it leave an imprint on my skin? We pull away from each other, my eyes probably as glazed as hers. I glance around, hoping we haven’t been too inappropriate. This is a public event, after all, and while Mia does own most of the resort, I’d hate for her to be embarrassed by what we’re doing.
“Where’d you learn to dance like that?” Mia asks, panting, all pink cheeks and sparkly eyes.
“Maggie. It was before massage classes. Or maybe after massage. Before pottery?” I shrug and give her a peck on the cheek. Maggie had tried to fill the void in our relationship with extracurriculars. Ones that she wanted to do, mostly. I thought that we could make things work between us if I agreed to what she wanted. It hadn’t worked. Looking back, that shouldn’t have been a surprise. I wound up resentful, and when she figured out I didn’t want to be there, she got resentful too.
“I’m really glad.”
I can’t help but think she isn’t talking about the dance classes. “We should probably go mingle,” I say, making an effort not to screw up my nose.
“I just want to stay here with you. But yes, we should mingle.”
I reach for her hand. “Let’s go, we’ll make it fun.”
We stop by a small group of people I don’t recognize, making small talk about how quickly the year has gone, and how beautiful the room is looking tonight. As we chat, I slide my free hand around Mia’s waist then move lower so I’m resting my hand just above her ass.
At our next meet and greet, I slip my hand up her back to the base of her neck, tightening as she talks about how lucky she is that I’m here with her tonight. I know it’s not one hundred percent real, but her beaming up at me like that sure doesn’t feel like she’s putting it on.