Chapter 22 #2
As quickly as he appeared, the guy disappeared into the crowd before either her or Charlie could say another word.
She stole a glance at Charlie, noting the scowl etched into his face as his eyes remained in the direction the guy had fled in, a lethal calmness swirling in his eyes.
As if he had half a mind to follow but had ultimately decided against it.
It was such a stark contrast to how Charlie usually was that she couldn’t help but laugh.
She patted his arm. “I think you scared him!”
Charlie blinked a few times before pressing one of the drinks into her hand. “Good. That was the intent.”
“He was wasted, probably harmless.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled. “Shouldn’t need to be sober to know to keep his hands to himself.”
Charlie sloshed back a few healthy swigs of the beer he’d gotten, a drop of it escaping and dribbling down his chin. Sam watched it with unabashed intrigue as it ran down his sharp jawline, across his Adam’s apple, and disappeared into the black void of his shirt.
Shit.
Would she be a bad feminist if she admitted that seeing Charlie’s protective side spring into action like that, like a sleeper soldier activating, was far hotter than she was ever willing to acknowledge openly?
After quenching his thirst, Charlie turned back to look at her, the angry crease across his forehead disappearing. “Did he hurt you?”
She cleared her throat and shook her head. “Unscathed, as you can see.”
“Good.”
Sam found herself pleasantly tipsy after indulging in a few more cocktails than she had originally planned. She teetered on that delicate balance where fine motor skills remained intact, yet she basked in a newfound sense of chilled-the-fuck-out that had eluded her for far too long.
With every sip from each entirely-too-sweet drink she had, layers of awkwardness seemed to melt away.
The more she had, the less she cared about all of her other worries and troubles.
All her concerns, worries, and doubts evaporated into a blissful haze, carried away on the winds of the night’s energy.
She was just having fun now.
As the alcohol coursed through her veins, she and Charlie danced along to the music. They switched from increasingly wild and chaotic dance moves to nearly bursting at the seams laughing at one another. Their laughter bubbling over as the crowd gyrated around them to the pulsating rhythm blasting.
Despite her earlier shyness over the memory of his kiss, Sam found herself surprisingly unaffected by the closeness like she might have been if sober.
Charlie’s hands remained at his sides, only coming up occasionally to shield her from strangers bumping into them.
She craved being closer, though. The feeling of his hands on her like a drug she couldn’t get enough of.
The longer the night went on, the closer she and Charlie were pushed up against one another, with the crowd around them swallowing up the remaining space.
The ability to be heard over the booming music—for even the simplest of exchanges—became increasingly difficult and caused them to further press together like all the other couples on the dance floor.
The beat shifted into something more carnal, animalistic almost, and the couples around them began to grind against one another in an unspoken dance of flesh and fire.
The change made her very aware that her breasts were pressed up against Charlie’s chest from how close they were to one another now.
The scooped neckline of her dress showed how intimately they were positioned against him.
A fleeting expression crossed Charlie’s features as their eyes met, quickly masked as he leaned in close. “We can leave if you want?”
The faint hiss of logic in Sam’s mind agreed, the side of her brain that had been steadily drowned out by the multiple cocktails in her system.
They probably should leave, but her feet remained planted firmly on the floor, rooted in place with Charlie’s body pressing against hers.
She felt far braver than she normally would have, thanks to the alcohol, which is why she instead took one of his hands.
“We came here to dance, right?” she said, her words drowned out by the ever-changing pace of the melody.
Are you flirting with me?
She’d asked him before when he’d pushed her against the wall and kissed her until she was left breathless. She wanted to flirt with him too. She wanted him as delirious with want as she had been, as she still was with him so close.
It had been a long time since she’d ever tried to flirt, so wasn’t entirely sure how. Her hands gravitated toward his shoulders, finding an odd sense of comfort at the familiar touch despite the liquid heat pounding in her veins.
His hands found her hips, hovering there, as if he were afraid she would smack his hand away at any moment. If only he knew she didn’t have the willpower to push him away even if she wanted to. She wanted him to touch her, to ease the ache inside of her.
Sam caught a glimpse of one of the other couples dancing next to them and a surge of nerves prickled at her once more. Their movements were more reminiscent of the kind of intimate act reserved for the privacy of a bedroom, as if she shouldn’t even be watching.
Charlie drew her closer, a shiver coursing through her at the feeling of his lips so close to her ear. “You okay?”
She nodded. “I’m fine.”
“We can still go if you want?”
“No, if I’m going to write smut, I can handle being here,” she rationalized, shaking her head and feeling the world spin ever-so-slightly at the motion. “I’m fine.”
Her desire to stay had little to do with her book, but her mind felt the need to offer an explanation as to why she would want to stay instead of what she really felt. Holding onto the last thread of rationality with a vice-like grip before it completely snapped.
In her hazy mind, she couldn’t think of a time when she wasn’t fully in control of herself. In control of her emotions. When she’d just let herself fall into the abyss and hope something, or someone, was on the other side to catch her.
Charlie threw his head back and laughed at that. “Your ability to write smut has nothing to do with this. This is dancing.”
“It does, though! How can I expect to write a believable, sensual, romantic scene between two characters if I don’t have a sensual bone in my body?” she argued, intrigued by whatever emotion suddenly crossed Charlie’s features at her statement.
“Fuck all of that if it means putting you in a situation you’re not comfortable with. We can—”
She shook her head vehemently, grabbing his hand before he could turn away. “No! Please, I want to stay. Please, babe?”
Though it was nearly impossible for her words to be quiet and be heard, her words came out barely a whisper. Charlie didn’t seem to need to hear them to understand, however, as he yanked her closer against him. “Keep your eyes on me, then.”
Charlie pressed her body against his from hip to chest, watching her carefully with each movement.
They began with a deliberate slowness, each movement a silent exchange of words, their eyes never leaving one another.
Every touch, every shift, became a test of boundaries, a silent negotiation between them.
A question offered, a response given, as if their bodies knew the answers all along.
Their bodies began to move against one another, grinding together with increasingly frantic movements.
It was vastly more intimate than anything she’d ever encountered before, that was for sure.
“Let me know if you want to stop,” Charlie said, not needing to lean in for her to hear him. She nodded but held on tight.
She wouldn’t stop if she had a choice in the matter.
Her hips grinding against Charlie’s was the closest to heaven she’d ever been.
His hands squeezed into the flesh of her hips, tight enough that it should’ve hurt but didn’t. Desire pooled in through every pore, simmering deep within her until she was nearly boiling over with it. Her body became hyperaware of every single touch, every single movement against one another.
Their bodies moved together, mimicking the movements of those around them but also the unspoken act that caused that desire to flare low in Sam’s belly.
The music continued, amplifying and engulfing them in a way that Sam stopped noticing anyone else around them. In that moment, it was only the two of them, ensnared by the hypnotic heartbeat of the music. Drawing nearer with each passing second until they were desperately clinging to one another.
Charlie’s hands shifted, her dress obediently trailing the motion of his fingers. The material rode up her hips with his movements before dropping back into place. This motion repeated several times until Sam realized that she had started to pant.
“Dammit,” Charlie grunted close to her ear. “Of all the times you’d wear a dress like this.”
The rest of the world melted away, and all she wanted was Charlie to throw her against the nearest hard surface and have his way with her.
But… there was more to it that stirred in her chest. The air between them was thick with unspoken desire, but something else lingered there.
Intangible, but she felt it. She’d always felt it, and there was no denying it any longer.
“I think I’m in love with you.”
The words slipped from her lips so effortlessly that she scarcely noticed their departure. Yet she saw the shift in Charlie’s eyes. The surprise, the heat. She didn’t feel embarrassment like she would’ve thought she would. Rational Sam left the building with whatever primal sensation overtook her.
Their bodies continued to move, but each movement seemed to slow as he studied her. “You don’t mean that, baby. You’re drunk.”
Baby.