Chapter 7 #2
This, being here with her, made the past frantic few hours of scrubbing and chopping like a madman under Felix’s careful scrutiny
totally worth it.
“Enjoying yourself yet?”
“Not really.” She nodded over to where Sophie and her friends, arms aloft, were dancing the fuck out of the beat. “I’d find
it less painful if I could dance like that.”
“You can.” He turned them so her back was against his chest, her bum nestled perfectly between his legs. “Turn off that powerful
brain, ignore the voices telling you how much you don’t like it, can’t do it. Ignore everything but the beat and move with
me.”
She was stiff, awkward, but he kept his hands steady on her hips, using his thighs to coax hers to move to his rhythm. “You
feel incredible.”
She faltered, but a beat later he felt her body relax and settle more firmly against his.
Fuck. If he didn’t shift away, she would soon know exactly how much he was enjoying this. Yet how could he move away when her body was finally moving in synchrony with his?
He tried to think of something else: soggy soufflés, the mess he’d left back home in his rush to pack. The faces of his parents
if he ever had the balls to ask them for a loan to start the restaurant. Nope. This erection was not budging.
Suddenly her body stopped moving.
“Ignore it.” He slid his hands up and down her hips because, fuck it, he couldn’t get any harder than he already was.
She huffed. “Easier said than done.”
For one brief, electrifying moment she pushed farther against him. His hopes rose as fast as other parts of his anatomy, but
just as quickly, she shifted away from him. “I need a rest.”
He buried his disappointment behind a smile. “Sure.”
He reached for her hand—because he enjoyed touching her and because he wasn’t going to lose her in this crowd. When her fingers
settled around his, his heart gave a solid thump against his ribs.
“Chloe and Nicole are at the bar.” He pointed across the sea of undulating dancers.
Olivia muttered something about tall people and allowed him to lead the way. Chloe greeted him like a long-lost friend, wrapping
her arms around his neck. “Oooh, you’re so tall!”
“Same height I’ve been all day,” he countered mildly, extricating himself. He didn’t mind attractive women draping themselves
over him, but he preferred it if they weren’t drunk.
“Ha, you’re funny.” She gave him a glassy-eyed stare. “Will you dance with me?”
“Sure, in a bit.” He knew full well it wouldn’t happen. In about ten minutes she’d need to be carried back to the hotel.
Sophie and Ashley appeared and the group shuffled to accommodate them, separating him from Olivia, who turned to chat to her
sister. He wanted to join them, but Chloe was talking to him. “You know I think you’re really fit.”
“Thanks. I work out,” he replied, deliberately misunderstanding her.
She giggled and drew a hand down his T-shirt. “Silly, I don’t mean that sort of fit, but I can defo see you have muscles.”
She waggled her eyebrows. “I mean I think you’re hot. Sexy.” She went up on tiptoes and drunk-whispered in his ear, “I want
to fuck you.”
“You know what I think?” Keeping his body language relaxed, his voice easy, he took the frothy cocktail away from her and
slid it onto the bar. “I think it’s time to stop drinking.”
“Does that mean we’re going back to yours?” Again she ran her hand down his chest, this time not stopping at his belt buckle
but carrying on down until she reached his junk. Or at least attempted to. He grasped hold of her wrist.
“Chloe!” Olivia appeared beside him, looking appalled.
“What?” She frowned. “You can’t be upset. You keep turning him down.”
“I’m concerned,” Olivia countered. “How would you like it if he grabbed your crotch?”
“Oh God, yes, pleeeeeeease.”
Connor laughed. “Okay, time you went back to the hotel, Chloe. Come on.”
He held out his hand and she grabbed it, wobbling on her feet like a newborn foal. To his surprise, when he’d weaved his way
through the crowds and into the night air, Olivia was behind him.
“FYI, I’m coming with you for protection,” she stated. “Not to jump into bed with you.”
“Who are you protecting, her or me?” he asked, not sure whether to be amused or insulted.
She exhaled, shaking her head. “You.”
It was the second time he’d walked back to the hotel with Olivia tonight. Both times he’d had a chaperone, though at least
Jessica hadn’t needed to be supported. And hadn’t kept mumbling that she wanted to hurl. “I feel I should make a smart remark
about not needing to be rescued,” he remarked. “But better to be safe than sorry, so thanks.”
“Just returning the favor.”
He glanced sideways at her. “You told me you didn’t need rescuing.”
“I didn’t.” She gave him a level look. “But it was nice to have someone look out for me.”
He was about to ask her to expand on the statement when Chloe crouched over and let out a violent heave, splattering his trousers,
his shoes, and the pavement in front of them.
Great. Maybe he should have spent the evening sharpening his knives and organizing his workstation. At least then Felix would
have been pleased with him. Instead he had blue balls, vomit-covered shoes, and a sinking feeling he’d gone backward in Olivia’s
estimation. A guy who’d forced her to dance, couldn’t control his dick, and was a magnet for drunk women.
“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” Chloe looked about as miserable as he felt.
“Don’t sweat it.” He picked up the edge of his T-shirt and wiped away the droplets of sick from around her mouth. “Let’s just
get you back to your room, yeah?”
“Here, I’ve got you.” Olivia wrapped her arm around Chloe’s waist, supporting her, and the three of them walked the rest of
the way to the hotel in silence.
Once in the hotel reception, Olivia pressed for the lift. “I’ll take Chloe from here. Thanks for the”—she looked around her
and mock-whispered—“escort service.”
He mustered a smile. “Anytime.” The lift arrived and a very subdued Chloe walked into it. Olivia hesitated and glanced up
at him. “Don’t tell me no, not tonight,” he said, preventing her from saying whatever she’d been about to say. “Have pity
on a vomit-splattered man.”
“I was actually going to thank you for being kind to Chloe.” Her expression looked troubled. “She’s been Sophie’s friend for
a long time and I’ve never seen her like this.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He exhaled heavily, letting out some of his frustration. “She’s on a hen party. She’s entitled
to let go and get roaring drunk at least once. You all are.” Figuring he’d said enough, he nodded over to the girl in the
lift. “Night, Chloe.” She gave him a weak smile.
He watched as Olivia went to join her. “Night, Livvy.”
Olivia’s eyes remained on his until the lift doors closed.
Not for the first time since he’d met her, he wished he could work out what she was thinking.