Chapter 23
I wouldn’t call myself an expert, but I know a thing or two about the art of seduction.
I know about purposeful, lingering touches, about using my body to hint at desire, but it’s all an act.
Part of the job. When I perform, I’m selling a fantasy.
It’s not something I’ve ever gotten to use because I actually want something. Someone.
I throw my arms above my head, dipping my hips low as they sway side to side to the music, and I know, this time, this is no act. This is an invitation. One that Westley happily accepts as he follows me through the crowd to the centre of the dancefloor.
The heat of his eyes on me has me turning on the spot, hiding the way his attention has me smiling. His chest pushes into my back, warm and solid, and his hands find my hips, moving with them as they roll with the rhythm.
“Is this you trying to tell me you don’t want me?” Westley says, with a deep, gravelly rasp. His words dance on every nerve ending, making my body fall against his.
My head rests back on his shoulder, and my hands run through his hair until they settle behind his neck.
“Never said I didn’t want to dance with you.”
His hand falls from my hip, sliding down my thigh, then back up again.
It crosses over my waist, then drags up my side, and I close my eyes, revelling in the sensual way he’s not only exploring my body, but my patience.
My pussy is throbbing, and my breath is stolen when he stops on my ribs, his forearm brushing the underside of my breasts as he hugs me closer to him.
“And everyone here knows it,” he says, dragging his nose up my neck and leaving the barest kiss behind my ear. “I believe the challenge was getting you to kiss me again”—he leaves another kiss on my neck—“but this time, because you want to.”
I chuckle. “How will we ever know if I want it, when you can’t keep your hands off me?”
“So you’re just following my lead then?” His hands trace up my arms until our fingers are linked, then he brings them down to criss-cross over my middle.
I’m completely locked in his embrace as we continue to dance. “Don’t want to bruise your ego in front of your friends.”
He tightens his hold, and I can feel the distinct hardness of him nestled against my arse.
“I think my ego’s doing okay.”
“Well, in that case.” I shrug and attempt to pull away, but Westley pulls me right back in.
“Where do you think you’re going?” My thighs clench together, trying to stifle the heat between them, but I’m certain it just makes it worse.
“Trying to run? Trying to hide from the fact that you want this just as much as I do?” His words are decadent in their taunt, and okay, they have a little truth to them, too.
I twist in his arms, bringing us face to face. My hands crawl up his chest until I’m cupping his jaw, and staring into his gorgeous green eyes.
“Of course I want this as much as you do, baby.” I flutter my eyelashes in an over-the-top fashion, matching my tone. “We’re a couple, remember?”
“I remember,” he murmurs, as he slowly leans in.
I hold my breath, thinking he’s about to kiss me, but he pivots, pressing his lips to my jaw instead.
My body grows hot with desire, craving the game he offers, but it’s shattered when Rachel comes dancing over to us, hollering at the top of her lungs with two shot glasses in hand.
“A toast!” she yells, handing me a glass.
Phil comes up behind her, handing a shot to Westley along with a questioning arch of his eyebrow.
“To the happy couple.” Rachel clinks her glass against mine, then throws it back, and we all follow.
The chilled liquid hits my tongue with notes of sweet raspberry and subtle rose.
“Good god.” Phil’s face scrunches in a grimace. “What the fuck is this shit?”
“It’s gin!” Rachel smiles. “Crew’s dad’s new venture.”
“Maybe he should stick to fruit picking.” He smacks a hand against Westley’s arm. “I told you there’d be weird shit at this wedding.”
“This is raspberry and rose. Do you want to try the cherry rhubarb?” Rachel rushes off before Phil even has a chance to protest.
His shoulders drop in defeat. “At least my hangover won’t taste like arse tomorrow.”
I laugh as I wipe away a drop left behind on my lip and suck the finger into my mouth. West’s fingers dig into my side, and I look up to find his eyes locked onto my mouth.
“Here we go.” Rachel joins us again, clutching another four shot glasses against her chest.
Phil takes a deep breath, psyching himself up as he stares down at the pink liquid, then pinches his nose before downing the shot.
The bold, tangy flavour goes down easily for me, but it’s met with the symphony of Phil’s disgruntled sputters.
“That’s even worse.”
“Maybe it’s how you’re drinking it, mate,” Westley says.
“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr Gin Expert, how the fuck am I drinking a shot wrong?”
Westley leans over, whispering in his friend’s ear and nods his head to something behind me. Phil follows where he points, then his face turns menacing, and he stalks into the crowd.
“Are you getting my husband into trouble again, Westley?” Rachel smirks.
“Me? I’m not the troublemaker between us.”
“Don’t let him fool you, Maevyn.” Rachel smiles. “Those two could wreak havoc if they put their minds to it.”
“I’d believe that.” The look in West’s eyes, burning with heat, says he’d love to prove me wrong. Or maybe he’s thinking of proving me right? My thighs clench at the mere thought.
“Here you go, buddy.” Phil comes back with two shots, handing one to Westley.
“Seriously, you didn’t get one for us?” Rachel scoffs, looking at me with disbelief.
Phil wraps an arm around her back and pulls her into him. “Don’t worry, you’ll get a taste.”
Rachel bobs her eyebrows at me, then Westley copies Phil’s move, holding my body tight against his.
“Cheers, bud.” The guys clink their glasses together, then hold them over mine and Rachel’s mouths.
“Open up, Trickster.”
I comply with his request, heart in my throat as I do, and Westley pours a hint of gin in my mouth. Before I can swallow it down, he snatches the strawberry flavour straight from my tongue.
My limbs turn to jelly, and my brain has left the building. But it’s over all too soon. I lean forward, intent on stealing another kiss, but Westley pulls back, eyes bright with victory.
“There it is.” He points an accusing finger at me, and I’m left wondering what the fuck he’s talking about. “That was you wanting it.”
Well, fuck me. Please.
For the rest of the night, the four of us continue to dance, drink, and flirt.
I love getting to know Phil and Rachel, and seeing how spirited and fiery their relationship is.
It comforts me, in a way, to witness the kind of love that exists with respect and safety.
Growing up, all I knew was toxicity and negligence.
But here, tonight, I get to enjoy a sweeter side.
I don’t think it ever would have happened if it weren’t for the need to act on this charade with Westley.
I never would have given him a chance otherwise.
I would’ve stayed intent on my path, focusing only on Aurora and being everything she needs.
Convincing myself it was not only safer, but a connection I wasn’t missing out on. Could have gone my whole life without.
Turns out, I was wrong. Everyone should feel this, at least once. Even if it’s not forever, I feel lucky to have it right now.
It’s after midnight when we stumble back to our rooms. Westley and I wave goodbye to Rachel, who hangs over her husband’s shoulder, on the verge of passing out, but still laughing her head off as he leads them into their room.
The second our door opens, I slide past Westley, kick my heels off, and rifle through my bag for my pyjamas.
“Did you have fun tonight?” West asks.
“I did, actually,” I say with a smile as I cross to the bathroom and start washing off my makeup.
“It didn’t go too far for you?” He stands in the doorway, leaning against the frame.
His suit jacket was lost shortly after the gin-gasm he gave me, followed by the act of him rolling up his shirt sleeves and exposing his thick, veined forearms, which I shamelessly stared at for the rest of the night. There’s just something about forearms.
“Do I look like a girl who wouldn’t speak up if it was too much?” I smirk as I pat my face dry, then turn to give him my back. “Could you unzip me, please?”
“It would be my pleasure.” I feel the zipper roll down with ease, and I hold one hand to the bust to stop it from falling to the ground and leaving me totally naked. On second thought, maybe that’s a good idea?
“I’m glad you’re someone who feels strong enough to stand up for yourself. But I still want to make sure you’re alright with everything we did tonight.”
I turn around, bringing a hand up to the door. “I enjoyed every second.” I smile and slowly close it, locking myself in the bathroom and Westley on the other side, so I can change.
I hear him chuckle, and it makes my smile grow even bigger. I’ve never felt like this. Didn’t even know it was remotely possible. The way West makes my heart race is exciting; it makes me feel like I’m floating.
I let my dress fall to the floor and lean over to turn on the shower so I can quickly freshen up.
I’m exhausted from the drive and the wedding, but I can’t sleep unless I’ve had a shower.
I need the warmth to relax my muscles and clear my mind.
I wash and rinse in under five minutes, then I throw on my oversized T-shirt and a pair of loose cotton shorts.
I run some cocoa butter over my legs and arms, then I’m taking deep breaths with my hand frozen on the doorknob, ready to go back into the bedroom with Westley and the one tiny bed.
He’s sitting on the bed, with just the sidelamp lighting the room, his nose buried in a book.
“You brought your book with you?” I ask, walking over to the cupboard to hang up my dress.