Chapter 12 #2
I didn’t see Presley anywhere. On the other side of the common area, several clusters of guests were gathered on private-room patios, but the only people on the terrace where the cocktail hour had taken place were two employees cleaning the area.
I nodded at one of them as I walked to the steps that led down to the shore.
Presley was sitting on the bottom step a couple hundred feet below me, her fancy dress likely getting dirty from the ground, her elbows braced on her legs.
Concerned, I jogged down the steps. She didn’t move as I approached.
“Presley?”
She slowly turned her head to look up at me, still bracing it on her arms.
“Are you okay?”
She groaned quietly.
I sat next to her, my leg not quite touching hers. “What’s going on?”
She lifted her head, shaking it, then moaning again. “Overserved myself. Needed fresh air.”
“Is it helping?”
She inhaled a deep breath through her nose. “Maybe?”
“You feel dizzy?”
She nodded shallowly. “Little bit.”
She canted her head to the side and leaned it against my shoulder. I had to fight to keep my hands in my lap when what I wanted to do was take her in my arms and make her feel better.
“Did your date desert you?” I asked.
“He had a fire.”
We sat without talking for a few minutes, during which Presley dragged in deep, audible breaths.
“I want to go home,” she said eventually. “Where’s Chloe?”
“She was slow dancing with her husband. Why don’t I drive you home, and she can have her night out with Holden?”
“Sounds good.” She straightened and frowned, her hair tousled. “Or you prob’ly don’t wanna do that.”
I couldn’t help grinning at this slightly sloppy version of the rich girl who normally had it all together. What I wouldn’t do to mess her up more thoroughly. But not like this. Not when she was half out of it. If she ever screamed my name, I needed her to be fully aware and willing.
I took in a shaky voice, then blew it out, releasing that idea. Not gonna happen, dude. Not tonight or ever.
I might not be willing to get romantically entangled with her, but I could get her home safely.
“I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it.” I stood and held out a hand for her. “Come on.”
She placed her hand in mine, seemed to gather her strength, then attempted to stand. I helped her up and caught her at the waist as she swayed. She let out a quiet half laugh and said, “Oopsss. Didn’t mean to get this buzzy.”
I held her by the elbow, waiting for her to steady herself, which took a second or two, and steady was an exaggeration.
Grinning, I asked, “What did you drink? Straight moonshine?”
She seemed to think about that for a moment, then looked up toward the terrace where cocktail hour had been. “Those icy, fruity things. They looked frou-frou.”
“They weren’t though?”
She shook her head as she clumsily brushed her hair out of her face, peering down at her feet.
“You ready?” I asked. “Can you make it up the stairs?”
She took deep breaths, not bothering to look up.
Without letting myself think about what I was doing, I picked her up, my arms under her back and legs, princess style, which was strangely appropriate, and started up the stairs.
It didn’t take more than three steps for me to understand this was a dumbass move on my part.
The slit in her dress crawled up, baring her thigh under my fingers.
Her light, feminine scent surrounded me in the humid night.
Her arms fastened around my neck with all the trust in the world, and she nuzzled her head onto my shoulder.
You are a stupid, stupid man.
Nothing to do but play it off, get her up the stairs, and take her home. To her house. Alone.
Shit.
About halfway up, Presley let out a quiet sigh that tugged at something inside me. I did my best to ignore it, watching the steps, determined to blank my mind all the way to the upper terrace.
The employees were gone, leaving it empty. I considered our options, dismissing the idea of walking back through the reception. We could either go through the lobby or around the building.
“Can I set you down?” I asked.
“Mm-hmm.”
I lowered her legs until her feet hit the ground in heels so high I had no idea how she’d been dancing for hours. She held on to my arm, finding her balance, her eyes opening, gaze focusing.
“We’re gonna go through the lobby. It’ll be a lot less attention grabbing as long as you can walk.”
She nodded. “I can walk. But thanks for the ride.”
She hooked her arm through mine and leaned heavily into me.
“Ready?”
“Mmm.”
We made it through the inn’s common room and lobby without running into anyone we knew, then out the main door to my SUV in the parking lot. I held her hand to help her up into the passenger seat, closed the door, walked to the back of the vehicle, and took a moment.
“Fuck,” I said quietly, peering up at the starry sky, trying to recenter myself.
I was on sensual overload from the most tempting woman I’d ever met. Sleep would not be easy tonight, not with the images and scents and memories of how her flesh felt taunting me.
I climbed into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and headed to Presley’s house. She leaned her head against the window, her eyes closed, and silence fell between us.
As I pulled into her driveway, I watched for a sign that she was awake.
“Did you pass out?” I asked quietly.
She smiled in response, then slowly raised her head. “We’re here?”
“Already,” I said dryly. I hopped out, went to her door, and opened it once I was sure she wasn’t leaning against it.
“Come on, princess,” I said, holding my hand out.
She slid down from the seat like liquid pouring out of the SUV. Again, I caught her waist, steadied her. I shook my head, grinning, thinking this was so unlike the woman who was always in absolute control.
She swayed on her feet, even with me hanging on.
“I’m ssssorry, West. I don’t normally get this hammered.”
“Weddings can be dangerous,” I said, thinking back on some I’d been to for my army buddies a few years back.
We got to the front door, and I realized she wasn’t carrying a purse or bag of any kind.
“Where’s your key?” I asked.
She dipped her fingers into her cleavage, and I swallowed hard, my eyes glued to the sight. When she took out a single key with no key chain, I held my hand out for it. The metal was warm from being nestled against her tit, the way my hand was itching to be.
I unlocked the door and entered with Presley still holding on to me. The house was dark, but there was enough moonlight coming in through the living room windows that I could see the short distance to the stairs. We reached the foot of them.
Flipping on the light over them, I said, “Can you make it up to bed?”
“Yep,” she said succinctly, determinedly.
She bent over to take her stilettos off and tumbled clumsily sideways until she sat on the second step, laughing.
I shook my head. “You’re a case,” I told her, grinning. “Sit still…if you can.”
I bent down in front of her and undid the tiny buckle on the strap around her ankle, slid the stilt off, then pulled her other foot up to do the same. Carrying the shoes in one hand, I held my other out for her, internally preparing myself for the upper floor I’d sworn not to return to.
We walked to her bedroom, and I went in with her, figuring it would be easier to pour her into bed than detach my arm at the doorway and hope she got across the room without keeling over.
She collapsed onto the unmade bed, grabbing her pillow and curling up on her side on top of the mess of blankets.
Presley held out her hand, and I took it like a dumbass, unsure what she needed. When she yanked me toward the mattress, I caught myself with my other hand and laughed.
“I don’t think so, princess,” I said, straightening quickly before my willpower gave out. “I’m gonna get you a drink of water and some Tylenol. Then I’m leaving.”
“You’re sure?” she asked drowsily.
“I’m sure,” I said resolutely. “Do you have cups up here?”
“Office,” she said. “There’s a fridge.”
I found the minifridge, grabbed her a bottled water, then went to her bathroom and searched the cabinet for Tylenol.
When I went back into her room, the first thing I noticed was the peach dress in a pile on the floor.
I nearly groaned out loud. As I stepped closer, I spotted a smaller pile next to it of silver lace.
My gaze flipped to Presley, who’d pulled the pink comforter over her from the side. One leg stuck out, and the blanket dipped nearly low enough on her chest to reveal a nipple. Nearly. My mouth went dry with the realization she’d shed every stitch of her clothing.
“Good night, Presley,” I said.
She mumbled what almost sounded like good night.
“There’s a bottle of water and two Tylenol on your nightstand for when your head hurts.”
“Mmm.”
I couldn’t help myself. I took one last look at her, then bent over and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.
Then I hurried out of her room, made sure all her doors were locked, and got the hell out of her house.