Wrapping my arm around her waist, I haul her into me. The way we are standing, bodies pressed together, I work my thigh between her legs, and we start to move. She is so short, I don’t think she can even hook her arms around my neck. Instead, she hangs on tightly to my biceps as I sway. The bass pumping so loudly I feel it through her body.
“Just dance with me, mon amour. It won’t kill you,” I sing into her ear.
“This is like the scene in Dirty Dancing. I’m not sure if that makes me Baby or Penny…” she says, but again, I interrupt her.
“Will your one-night stand move you like this, Angel?” My hands find her hips and I move her against my thigh in time with the music.
Every inch of our bodies are touching, and I’m growing harder by the second.
“Oh, I…” Angel’s eyes go cartoonish again.
“Yes, mon amour, I want you, but I can’t have you, so dance with me.” I see the confusion in her eyes. Possibly the hurt, but I look away. I’m a selfish prick because I should walk away, but the thought of her with anyone but me has my gut raging. Instead, I pull her closer again.
“Would your one-night stand nip your neck, Angel? Would he throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his room?” I pause, looking down at her. The fire in her eyes is almost my undoing. Fuck me hard. “Would he grab the hem of your dress and rip it up the center to see that fucking sexy as hell pink bra I know you have on? Would you let him? Would he lick and nip and suck from your ear to your navel? Ghost his fingers over your stiff peaks, Angel? Would he be as hard for you as I am right now? Hard as fucking steel and about to come in my pants in a room full of strangers?”
Her breathing is ragged, and her face is flushed. Her lips part when I pull away slightly to look at her, and all my will power goes out the window. Just as I’m about to kiss her, the song changes and she tries to break free. Not yet, please, not yet. I hear a song by Dave Matthews start, and I wonder who the fuck the DJ is. I recognize the song, Say Goodbye, how fucking fitting. In true Dave Matthews fashion, the first minute and a half of the song is un-danceable.
“Just wait, keep moving with me, Angel.” I take a moment to breathe her in deeply.
“This is my favorite song,” she whispers. “we can be friends tomorrow, mm mhm, tonight we are lovers,” she attempts to sing along with Dave and fuck me to hell if I have ever wanted something so badly. I’ve also never been so freaking close to laughing as I am right now.
“Angel, you do know that that isn’t how the song goes?” Our dancing has changed along with the song. It isn’t as crazed, as dirty, but it is just as sexy. Our bodies are moving in perfect sync. I know this cannot leave the dance floor, and I am all too aware that our song is ending.
“This evening…” Angel sings. “Yes, I know, I can’t help it. I love music, but my lyrics always sound better. It drives most people freaking crazy, but it’s just me,” she says, and it makes me want her even more. I want her babbling, lyrically screwed-up, uncoordinated body like I’ve never wanted anything before. I know I have to send her on her way. Keeping this up will only put her in danger, and I have the distinct feeling that losing her is not something I would recover from.
Unable to speak to her ear the way I want with our height difference, I lift her right off the floor and hold her as tightly as I can. “I want more than anything to take you upstairs and do wicked, wicked things to you until the sun comes up. I want to hear all your noises, all your words. I want to be the lover that makes you moan and scream and writhe in ecstasy. I want to taste you and fuck you, then roll you over and do it again and again.”
The gasp she emits has me second-guessing my every intention.
Our song is winding down, and I feel the anxiety building knowing I have to let her go. Setting her carefully on her feet, I lean in and take her lips in mine. I’m frantic, and I know it. My tongue pushes at her seam and she opens on a breath.
Her eyes are open, as are mine, and she nods imperceptibly, granting me permission.
Taking control of her lips, her hands wrap around my neck and I’m pulled closer. My hands tangle in her hair as I explore every inch of her mouth. She tastes of mint and ginger. I’m fucking starved for her. I’m about to say fuck it to every messed-up thing my father has done to put me in this position when my watch goes off, alerting me to a text.
Resting my forehead to hers, I covertly read the message.
Unknown number: Package acquired
My body goes rigid as I attempt to stay calm. I knew they were here. I knew they were watching me and that they would try to gain access in this way. What I wasn’t expecting was Angel. As much as I want her, I can’t have her.
“Wh-what’s the matter? Did I do something wrong?” Angel asks.
Standing to my full height, I pull away. God, the look in her eyes; it is burned into my memory for eternity and will follow me to the depths of hell. Leaning in, I kiss her cheek.
“No, Angel. You are perfect, but it’s time for you to go. I can’t be your one-night stand, but I’m also too selfish to let you leave with anyone else either. There are things beyond my control, but know this, in another time, I would have taken you and never let you go.”
“Wh-what? Are you fucking kidding me?” she seethes.
Grabbing my left hand, she inspects my ring finger with her small hands.
“What are you doing, Angel?”
“I’m looking for a wedding ring indent. I knew it, you’re married, or engaged or something, aren’t you?” She is a spitfire, and mad as hell.
I can’t help but chuckle. “No, Angel. I’m not married, engaged, or seeing anyone. I haven’t even dated anyone in a very long time. This has nothing to do with anyone else. It is about things that are out of my control. I want you to know I’m sending you away for reasons I can’t explain, but if there were any other way, you would be mine.”
Narrowing her eyes, Angel pokes me in the chest, hard. “Fuck. You. Charlie.” And she storms off, stopping at the table to grab her purse. My gut clenches, knowing that very dangerous men were just in that exact spot.
It’s better this way, Trevor. I repeat over and over again in my head. I chuckle, realizing Angel is probably cursing every thought she has out loud right now. I’m saddened knowing I won’t hear her feelings anymore. You should have controlled yourself better and never brought her to your table.
Dragging a hand through my hair, I watch her make her way to the elevator, then I head back to the table. Raising my hand, I signal for the waiter.
“What can I get you, sir?” he asks, trying to hide the fact he just saw my companion storm off.
“Johnny Walker, Blue label. The bottle this time,” I demand.
“Ah, sir, that is five-hundred dollars a bottle,” he informs me.
Trying not to be an asshole, I tell him, “I’m aware, just bring it, please.”
“Yes, sir.” He scurries off, no doubt excited about the tip he knows he will get.
Rolling my shoulders, I try to relax but feel myself stiffen as someone stops at my table. Looking up, I let out a sigh of relief when I see Loki.
Taking a seat across from me, he says, “No hot girls at a maths and science conference, huh?”
“Not now, Loki. I’m not in the mood.”