Chapter 18
Cassie
W hiskey breath aside, Silas’s smile is pretty decent, not panty-dropping like Quinn’s smile, but decent enough. He’s attractive in a very polished sort of way; every hair on his head has been styled to perfection. His eyebrows look like they’ve been professionally shaped and waxed, and I think he’s had his eyelashes tinted.
I’m all for a bit of manscaping, but honestly, this is all a bit too much.
He slides his hand from my hip up to the middle of my back.
Ugh. Sorry, buddy. Not happening.
A hasty side-step, and look at that, I’ve managed to dodge his advances yet again. We’ve been dancing together for two songs now, and so far I’ve managed to avoid any real bumping or grinding despite Silas putting in a valiant effort to feel me up every chance he gets.
I could really use another drink right about now. A margarita perhaps? Something a little stronger to help take the edge off. But I haven’t had a chance to get back to the bar since I hit the dance floor with Silas because the guy hasn’t shut up long enough for me to get a word in edgewise.
The corner of his mouth curls up. “So, sweetheart, you’re single, yeah?”
I let out an exasperated breath. “Would it matter?”
This makes Silas laugh. Hard. “Not in the slightest.”
He slips his other hand around my waist, and damn him and his quick reflexes because I don’t scoot out of the way fast enough this time, and now he’s pulling me in closer to his chest.
Over his shoulder, I find Quinn standing at a high-top table by the bar, nursing a beer in his hands and armed with a glare that screams bloody murder. His eyes track every move I make and deep lines pull his brows into a tight scowl.
The girl with the boobs stuck around for a while, pawing at Quinn’s shirt, but in his defense, he didn’t even seem to notice that she was glued to his side. His gaze has been fixed on me the entire time, and it’s growing more menacing by the minute.
When I glance back up at Silas again, a hazy grin pulls his lips as he leans forward, moving in for the kill.
I think he’s actually going to kiss me.
What? Oh god.
I turn my face away to avoid any tongue action, and there definitely would have been tongue action because that thing was coming at me with some crazy steadfast determination.
Silas doesn’t seem the slightest bit deterred, however. He spins me around so my back is against his chest, and in what is no doubt meant to be a smooth move, his hands slide down my ribcage to linger on my hips.
He’s holding me so tightly that I can hardly breathe, and then he leans his face into the side of my neck and inhales deeply. “I bet you taste as good as you smell.”
A deep male voice suddenly growls beside me, and Silas is instantly hidden in the shadow of Quinn’s tall frame.
“Get your hands off her, York. I don’t care who’s watching or how much of a scene I make. Nor do I care that you’re the CEO of this company. Get your hands off her.”
Silas visibly stiffens. “Or what?
“Or you’ll be sorry.”
“Is that a threat?”
“It’s a promise,” Quinn retorts dryly.
Between the tight lines around Quinn’s eyes, his wild hair, and his dark beard, he looks like a man on the verge of being a savage. All he needs now is a bloody club in his hands and a wild carcass hanging over his shoulder.
God, he looks so angry.
Caveman, meet world.
Silas drop his hands from my waist, shrugs his shoulders and then turns and walks away.
Flattering? Not even close. But at least he’s gone.
My cheeks heat up when Quinn takes my hand, and practically drags me off the dance floor. He leads me down a small corridor into a dark corner at the side of the bar and spins me around to face him .
“What the fuck was that?” There’s a grim edge to his tone. “You got a thing for Silas York now?”
“Not sure what you mean.”
This summons an irritated expletive from the Neanderthal. “You were dancing with him, Cassie.”
“Yes, I was…and, and Rocker Knockers over there was crawling all over you. So I guess we’re even.”
Quinn’s head abruptly jerks back. “Rocker Knockers?”
I wave my hand dismissively, not wanting to get too caught up with any of that right now. “Swooping in and saving the day. How impressively masculine of you, Quinn. Looks like you’ve managed to make yourself the hero in this story after all,” I quip.
He cocks his head. “Is that so?”
“Oh, yeah…very Stone Age, all you needed was a spear and a sealskin skirt.”
Quinn just stares at me. Nothing.
I don’t know why I’m acting like this. This isn’t me. I don’t play games. I don’t waste time with petty jealousies. How does being around this man bring out a side in me I never even knew existed?
“What’s going on with you, Cassie?” He edges closer, and my pulse instantly races.
I gulp, because I hate being put on the spot, and also because I’m so confused by my feelings for him. I didn’t expect to like him so much. And I didn’t expect his denial to hurt so much.
Quinn’s eyes are on fire, blackened with the heat of his wrath, and his usually calm features are twisted into a feral look that doesn’t quite make sense.
I’m tempted to make a run for it, and maybe I would if he wasn’t watching me with an intensity that glues my feet to the floor. His pupils are dilated, and there’s no mistaking the rapid flutter of his pulse in the center of his throat.
I look away but not before a spark of heat ignites between my legs. Oh for crying out loud. This can’t be happening. Not again. And yet it definitely is happening because the longer I stand in front of him, the more I can feel his presence pounding deep in my core.
“You knew I wanted to talk to you.”
“And I wanted to forget everything that happened.”
He takes another step closer, and he’s so close to me now that I can feel the warmth of his chest radiating through his shirt. “I don’t like you dancing with other men. Especially him.”
“And I don’t like being rejected.”
“That’s what you honestly think…I, uh, fuck, Cassie.” His jaw clenches as he grabs my hips and before I can blink he backs me up against the wall and his mouth is inches from mine. My surprised gaze rises to his, and he stares down at me for several seconds while he appears to be fighting some kind of internal battle. He lifts one hand and briefly touches my cheek, looking me straight in the eye. “Are you hungry?”
My mouth falls open. Then I clamp it shut again. I think I might be speechless. The question comes so far out of the blue that it takes a moment for the words to make sense. “Uh…not really—”
“What room are you staying in?”
“Excuse me?”
“Your room number? ”
Everything stops. Quinn stares back at me. His question makes me feel a multitude of things all at once, things I don’t even have a name for right now. I’m glad it’s dark, because my face is on fire and for a moment the hard ridge pressing into my belly distracts me from answering him.
“Four twenty-two,” I croak on account of my throat closing over.
Quinn’s expression is impossible to read. He’s staring down at me with those dreamy chocolate eyes, and just like that my heart explodes, and my body wakes right the hell up.
I can feel my panties getting wet. Oh god, I’m so ridiculously wet right now. And my nipples are aching wildly as they pucker against the silky black fabric of my dress.
The air around us is warm and thick with something unspoken, and I don’t think there are enough words in the universe to describe the amount of sexual tension bouncing between us.
It’s off the charts.
Slowly, Quinn moves his other hand from my hip and slides it around to my lower back. He pulls me in even closer to him so that now his chest is pressed firmly against my chest, and I can hardly breathe with how close we’re standing.
Inhaling deeply through his nose, he whispers, “Tell Nick you don’t feel well, and that you won’t be staying for dinner. Tell him you’re going upstairs to lie down.” He gives me a pointed look, and my insides swirl and melt. “Give me ten minutes. Leave the door unlocked.”
Another jolt of wet heat spirals between my legs .
I can’t breathe.
“Is that a yes?” he demands when I take longer than two seconds to respond.
I nod.
I nod vigorously .
“Yes.”