7. Zoe
Zoe
H eads across the crowded ballroom swivel as another successfully auctioned firefighter emerges from the side door beside the stage to join the gala. This time, it’s Levi. He wastes no time meeting my gaze and beelining straight for me across the glittering ballroom. And damn, if anticipation with a side of desire doesn’t flutter deep in my belly.
The black tuxedo he’s changed into fits him as if it were custom tailored for his broad shoulders and thick thighs, and suddenly, I’m grateful for the champagne bubbles dancing in my bloodstream. He’s adjusting his cufflinks as Libby’s gaze, which had tracked mine across the room, swings back with an arch of her brow. But she doesn’t say a word.
She doesn’t need to because the second the gavel dropped, she spun toward me and called bullshit on my promise with a pithy, “And how exactly is winning the auction ‘showing Levi what he lost?’”
With a triumphant smile and a pounding heart, I admitted that, sure, bidding two thousand dollars on a date with a guy I turned down last week and swore I didn’t want to see again might have been a touch of a reckless impulse. But, that my new plan—to get him out of my system for good—is the perfect prescription for a cure.
She didn’t buy it for a second.
“Don’t wait for me if you want to call it a night,” I murmur to Libby now, rising from our table without another glance at Levi as I smooth my dress and grab my clutch.
“Believe me, I won’t. I can read the writing on the wall. You know, the glaring colorful graffiti that screams, ‘We’re hot for each other.’”
“Yes, but that’s all it is. Red-hot chemistry that simply needs a release.”
Her skeptical look trails after me as I make my way toward the exit, in the opposite direction from where Levi approaches. But he’ll follow. Of that, I have no doubt. Even if I didn’t win his bid, I have a feeling he’d come after me.
Because Libby was right. The cocky grin that spread across his face when he first spotted me from the stage melted away and his eyes darkened when he took in this dress. The memory of his heated gaze sends electricity skittering across my skin, even now as cool air from the hallway brushes it.
Earlier, as I entered the hotel, I passed a quiet alcove tucked off to the side past the lobby, and I’m heading there now. It’s the perfect spot for step one of my new plan. A little conversation with Levi.
Not that it will take long. Odds are, we’ll slip away to some form of a coat closet in less than five minutes flat. Because getting him out of my system tonight is the smart solution. The practical answer to the way seeing him again has thrown my sex-deprived libido into overdrive. We’ll have one more romp to show him what he’s missing, and then I can move on with my life. After all, I hold the cards tonight. Unlike last time, when I followed his lead.
The click of my heels on the marble floor echoes in time with my racing pulse as I slip down the low-lit corridor. Sure enough, Levi’s footsteps sound behind me, his ground eating stride gaining on me by the second. I peel off into the alcove where the soft amber glow and hushed quiet feel worlds away from the ballroom’s bright glitter.
He slides in behind me but stops inches away, his presence a tangible heat that doesn’t make contact. Why not? We both know where this is going. One brush of his strong fingers along my hip, or the hum of his irresistible lips along my shoulder, would confirm we’re on exactly the same page.
“Congratulations,” he says, the single word soft and low.
“I could say the same to you.”
“True.”
I spin to face him and grab hold of the satin peak lapel, the fabric smooth under my fingertips. “You were right.”
His eyes narrow. “About what?”
I offer a saucy smirk and look up at him through lowered lashes. “I can’t resist a man in uniform.”
A hint of a smile curls his lips, and his eyes rake over me. But instead of a witty comeback and the quick surrender I expected, he says, “You look stunning, though nothing like that pale-pink gown I remember.”
My pulse stutters. “I thought you couldn’t remember what I wore at the wedding.”
“I lied.” The simple admission, in a deep gravelly tone, sends a fissure of hesitation to my prefrontal cortex, but it’s overruled by the molten heat pooling low in my belly.
Plus, I didn’t come here to analyze why he remembers a dress I wore five years ago on a night that meant more to me than it should. I came here to get him to give me what I want. “Well, since we both know where this is heading, why don’t we skip the formalities and find somewhere more…private?”
Heat flares in his dark eyes, turning them molten. Victory surges through my veins until a muscle in his jaw works and he issues a single word.
“No.”
The firm rejection hits like a splash of cold water.
“No?” My brow knots as I drop my hand.
“You won a date, Dr. Meyer. A proper one. Paid good money for it.” He takes a step back and crosses his arms over his chest as if to put a barrier between us. “And I aim to deliver.”
My stomach does a backflip. This isn’t how this was supposed to go. I erase the distance and press my breasts against those arms, relishing the way his gaze drops to my cleavage. “Since when are you interested in a proper date?”
He swallows hard and blows out a long breath, as if turning me down requires drawing from a deep reserve of willpower.
“Plus,” I press, my raging hormones not ready to accept his answer without a fight, “this would be so much simpler.” I slip a finger into his waistband and tug him closer.
He looks off, but not before I see the resistance crumbling, like an old stone fortress, in his eyes. A silent beat passes as the debate rages across his chiseled features.
“This, is exactly what got us into trouble before,” he murmurs, grabbing my hips and spinning us both around until my back is against the wall, his stiff length unmistakable against my belly, “
The spicy notes of his damn cologne wrap around me like a caress, short-circuiting my ability to think straight. Suddenly, the alcove feels too small, the air too thick as my lungs constrict, pinned between Levi and the wallpapered wall against my back.
“I thought you liked trouble.”
“Look where it got us.”
I don’t want to think about that now. And I definitely don’t want to consider the laundry list of reasons seducing Levi Reyes again is a bad idea. Including the way I feel more alive in his presence than I never have with another man, before or since him. All I want right now is the blazing orgasm I know he’ll deliver.
I dart my tongue out to wet my lips and arch against him. “I know you want me.”
“What I want is to take you on a proper date.”
Grr, this man is so infuriating. Why has he decided now is the time to insist this is something more than it is? He had that chance. And blew it.
With no other options coming to mind, I do the only thing I can think of to break his newfound restraint. The one way to ensure my plan doesn’t crumble before I can even get to step two. I tug down his head and kiss him.
For a heartbeat, he’s still. A statue of carved marble. And in that suspended second between impulse and reaction, I wonder if I’ve misread him completely. Levi’s entire being radiates tension, like a match about to strike. Until his thick fingers slide up into my hair, and he steals control.
His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and I open for him with a gasp. He tastes like mint and possibility as he thoroughly and methodically kisses me, dismantling every defense I’ve built. But also giving me exactly what I want. My nerves shoot off like a cardiac defibrillator, jolting my pulse into an erratic rhythm that feels dangerous and exhilarating.
With effort, he tears away, his forehead pressed against mine. Our ragged breaths mingle in the inches between our lips. “Fuck, darling, you’re going to be the death of me.”
“Good thing I’m a doctor.”
A growl rumbles from his chest, raw and untamed as his hands grip my waist. He crushes me against the wall in the best possible way and kisses me soundly. A small mewl escapes my throat, and he captures it in his mouth before exploring with his tongue with the kind of patience that makes my toes curl in my stilettos. When his teeth graze my bottom lip, my fingers twist his jacket, and he groans, the vibration shooting straight to my core.
Just when I think my knees will give out, he pulls back, pressing one more swift kiss to the corner of my mouth.
“This isn’t getting you out of that date,” he warns as he grabs my hand, threading his fingers through mine, and spins toward the exit.