“That’s me, the incredibly helpful bitch, at your service.”
***
Later that night …
Alyssa has picked one of the best places in town to celebrate her birthday. This place serves my favorite drinks, and they have the craziest music. Just what I need to forget everything and focus on the good life.
“I love this place!” I tell her.
The music is blaring so loud that we have to scream in each other’s ears.
“I know! Me, too,” she says. “Let’s go grab a drink and hit the dance floor.”
“Margaritas?” I say with a smirk.
“You got it,” she says, walking to the bar with me.
We each get one and sip them while looking around for hot dudes we can include in our small party. Nothing like ogling some man-meat on a Friday night.
Right when I take another sip from my margarita, I spot a familiar body in the crowd. Specifically because his tattoos match those of Chris.
“Motherfucker …” I mutter.
“What?” Alyssa says.
“Look!” I grab her chin and make her look at him. “What is he doing here?”
“Oh …” She smashes her lips together as if she’s hiding a smile, so I turn toward her and put down my margarita.
“You don’t seem the least bit surprised,” I say.
“No … I’m not, really.”
I narrow my eyes. “You know something, don’t you?”
She shrugs, but her eyes tell me that she’s lying. Tapping my foot, I say, “Spill it.”
“Hey, it’s my birthday, and I don’t have to do shit,” she muses, laughing a bit.
I sigh. “Fine, I’ll go find out myself.”
When I turn around, I notice he’s dancing with a girl … the same one who served us coffee. Damn him.
I chug back my margarita and take a deep breath.
“You go, girl!” Alyssa yells after me as I walk toward him.
The moment he spots me, a devious smile appears on his face, but I just want to smack it off him. I don’t know why I’m so pissed, but I’m sure as hell blaming it on the fact that anyone could photograph him here, and when they do, the newspapers will eat it up.
“Oh, hey Em,” he says, casually glancing at me.
The girl takes her arms off him. Good.
“What are you doing here?” I say.
“Having fun, unlike you,” he muses.
“Okay … I think I’ll go get a drink now,” the girl says. “See you in a minute.” She gives Chris some sort of flirty look before turning around and walking off. I’m almost tempted to go after her and start a major catfight, but that would make me a bitch. Actually, I already am for interrupting him.
I sigh, realizing what I’m doing. “Chris, sorry, but I’m worried about you. If you’re here dancing with some girl, then you could be photographed. You know how that goes. Next thing you know, there’s a story in the newspaper you really don’t want to read. Especially if they get their hands on her.”
“Oh, like you care,” he says, still dancing as if he doesn’t give a shit.
“I do,” I say, and I stand in front of him so he’ll look at me. “I mean it. I’m your PR agent. I don’t want you to get unwanted attention.”
He leans in. “Whatever attention I was getting, you scared away.”
“Well, excuse me, but I think protecting your reputation is more important right now, as it isn’t that great to begin with. Or do you want to be called a man-whore again? Because I can already see that headline in front of me again.”
He leans in to talk. “I think you’re just mad that I’m having fun with her,” he says with a smirk. “Coincidence that you’re here, don’t you think?”
“Me? What about you?” I say.
“Ah … a certain someone invited me to celebrate her birthday.”
With wide eyes, I turn to look at Alyssa who’s casually sitting at the bar, waving at me as if nothing happened. That bitch. She set me up. With my eyes, I send her a few death threats, but they only make her laugh.
“I’ll get her later …” I growl.
I only just now realize that Chris’s laugh is so husky. “You know, I don’t mind you two fighting … maybe in a bikini with a little mud.”
I smack his arm. “Chris!”
“What … you know I’m a dirty fucker.” He suddenly grabs my hand and twirls me in his arms. “C’mon … dance with me.”
“You’re here with another girl,” I say, as he grabs my waist and pulls me closer.
“So? One dance can’t hurt.”
“Still the same bastard, huh?” I scoff. “Always chasing after girls and then not giving a shit about how you hurt them.”
“That’s not true,” he says. “I care about you.”
“It doesn’t matter, Chris,” I say, averting my eyes.
He leans in and whispers into my ear, “It does matter. In fact, it matters so much that you’re upset because you think I don’t care about you.”
I can feel his hot breath on my skin, and for some reason, he has me under his spell. I can’t escape his grasp, even if I wanted to. And while we shuffle on the dance floor, his words create goosebumps all over my body.
“You’re jealous,” he whispers. “Jealous of her.”
I turn my head and frown at him. “No, I’m not.”
“Yes, you are. Stop denying it.” The smirk on his face is as undeniably hot as it is vexing.
“And? Even if I was, I wouldn't do anything with it.”
“You’re already doing it. You’re here, dancing with me, aren’t you?”
“That was your idea,” I say, as he wraps my arms around his neck.
“This isn’t about her, Em,” he says. “It’s about you and me.”
“Then why did you bring her here?” I look up at him, and for a second, the look in his eyes completely mesmerizes me.
“To make you jealous.”
His forehead rests on mine as we do a slow dance on the floor; his hands are all over my back, sliding down toward my ass. I can feel every slip of his finger, every vein in his arm pulsing, and every controlled movement of his muscles while he holds me and sways me across the dance floor. Sensually, he pulls me closer each time, our chests touching, sweat dripping down our backs.
He twists me in his arms, wrapping his arms around my body, slowly moving to the rhythm. My hands cover his as they rest on my belly, my ass grazing his pants, feeling him up. I’m getting lost in the music and this dance with him. I wonder what in the hell I’m doing, but the thought is whisked away by him swaying me. He spins me on my feet, pressing his body against mine. We exchange intense looks, but neither of us speaks a word.
Until the beat drops and he bends me over, his hand sliding down my neck, over my top, all the way down my belly button, and then he lifts me back up again, surprising me with a kiss.
Chapter 16
Emily
Chris King is kissing me right now, and I love every second of it. I shouldn’t, it’s so bad, but damn, he’s a great kisser. The way he smothers me, consumes me, and completely overwhelms me with just his lips. God, I can’t imagine what he’s capable of with his hands, his body … his mouth somewhere else, and his cock … Oh, fuck me. I shouldn’t be thinking about this, but I am.
As his tongue dips out to probe my mouth, my fingers scrunch up his shirt, desperate to get closer, and his hand moves to my ass to squeeze tight and pull me even closer. Nothing is close enough because all I can think about is kissing him, touching him, and feeling him the way I used to. Before everything became impossible … before we became family.
There were only us.
In these lights flashing all around, I lose myself to his touch, his wicked tongue licking my lips, his scorching hot kisses numbing me. The music blasts all around us, but my ears can’t even hear it. All I notice are the hot and salty kisses on my mouth, the quick, playful swipes around my tongue, and the sweat mixing with sizzling desire.
When he takes his lips from mine, I’m left bereft of something I didn’t know I had in the first place.
“Did it work?” he whispers against my lips.
“What?” I say, still delirious from his kiss.
He smiles against my skin. “Do you want me?”