“Were you able to get some food? Rylee was able to get one of the hottest chefs in Hollywood to donate his services,” Teddy explains, always trying to be the consummate host.
Donavan looks at me, humor crinkling the corners of his eyes. “I had a little taste of something while I was wandering around backstage.” I suck in my breath catching his innuendo as he moves his eyes back to Teddy. “It was rather unexpected but quite exquisite,” he murmurs. “Thank you.”
I hear someone call Teddy’s name, and he eyes me again with curiosity before apologizing. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed elsewhere for a moment.” He turns toward Donavan, “It’s great seeing you again. Thank you for coming.”
We both nod in assent as Teddy leaves. Scowling, I turn on my heel to walk away from Donavan for I want to erase him and his memory from my evening.
His hand hastily closes over my bare arm, tugging me so that my backside lands against the steeled length of his body. My breath hitches in response at my body’s reaction to the feel of him. I glance around, glad that everyone seems to be so absorbed in their own conversations that we’ve not drawn their attention.
I can feel Donavan’s chin brush against my shoulder as his mouth nears my ear. “Why are you so pissed, Ms. Thomas?” There is a biting chill to his voice that warns me he’s not a man to be messed with. “Is it because you can’t let go of your high-brow ways and admit that despite what your head says, your body wants more of this rebel from the wrong side of the tracks?” He chuckles, a low, patronizing growl in my ear. “Or are you so practiced at being frigid that you always deprive yourself of what you want. What you need? What you feel?”
I bristle, trying unsuccessfully to pull my arm out of his firm grip. Talk about a wolf in sheep’s clothing. I still as another couple walk past us—eyeing us closely. Trying to figure out the situation between us. Donavan releases my arm, and rubs his hand over it instead, giving the impression of a lover’s touch. And despite my fury, or maybe because of it, his touch triggers a myriad of sensation everywhere his fingers trace over my skin. Goose bumps ripple in their wake.
I can feel his breath rake over my cheek again. “It’s very arousing, Rylee, knowing that you’re so responsive to just my touch alone. Very intoxicating,” he whispers as he trails a finger across my bare shoulder. “You know you want to explore why your body reacts the way it did to me. You think I didn’t see you undressing me with your eyes, enjoy you fucking me with your mouth?” I gasp as he puts his hand on my stomach and pulls me tightly back against him so that I can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into my lower back.
Despite my anger, it’s a heady feeling to know that I can make this man react in such a way. But then again, he probably reacts this way to the numerous women who without a doubt throw themselves at his feet on a regular basis.
“You’re lucky I don’t drag you back in that storage closet I found you in and take what you offered. Make you cry out my name.” He nips softly at my ear, and I have to stifle the uncontrollable moan of desire that threatens to escape. “To fuck you and get you out of my system. Then move on,” he finishes.
I’ve never been spoken to this way—would never have thought I’d allow someone to—but his words, the vigor with which he speaks them, unexpectedly turn me on.
I’m mad at my body for its unbidden reaction to this pompous man. He obviously knows the hold he can have over a woman’s body, and unfortunately, it is mine at the moment. I’m astute enough to acknowledge that he gets my blood humming, but his arrogance is irritating as hell. And I know that I participated just as thoroughly as he did, but right now, it’s the principal that urges me to dispute.
I turn slowly to face him and narrow my eyes. My voice is cold as ice. “Presumptuous, aren’t you, Ace? No doubt your typical MO is to fuck ’em and chuck ’em?” His eyes widen in response to my unexpected vulgarity. Or maybe he’s just surprised that I have him figured out so quickly. I hold his stare, my body vibrating with anger. “How many woman have you tried to seduce tonight?” I raise my eyebrows in disgust as guilt flickers fleetingly across his face. “What? Didn’t you know that I happened upon you and your first conquest of the evening in the little alcove backstage?” Donavan’s eyes widen at my words. I continue, enjoying the surprised look on his face. “Did she play you at your own game, Ace, and leave you wanting for more? Aching to prove what a man you are since you couldn’t fulfill her? That you had to pick a frantic woman locked in a closet to take advantage of? I mean, really, how many women have you used your bullshit lines on tonight? How many have you tried to leave your mark on?”
“Jealous, sweetheart?” He raises his eyebrows as his grin flashes arrogantly. “We can always finish what we started, and you can mark me any way you’d like.”
I gently shove my hand against his chest, pushing him back. I’d love to wipe that smirk off if his face. Leave my mark that way. “Sorry, I don’t waste my time on misogynist jerks like you. Go find someone—”
“Careful, Rylee,” he warns as he grips my wrist, looking every bit as dangerous as his voice threatens. “I don’t take kindly to insults.”
I try to yank my wrist away, but his hold remains. To anyone in the room, it looks as if I’m laying my hand on his heart in affection. They can’t feel the steel strength of his grip.
“Then hear this,” I snap, tired of this game and the warring emotions and sensations within me. Anger takes hold. “You only want me because I’m the first female who’s said no to your gorgeous face and come-fuck-me body. You’re so used to every female falling at your feet, pun intended, that you see a challenge—someone immune to your charm—and you’re unsure how to react.”
Despite his nonchalant shrug, I can see his underlying irritation as he releases my wrist. “When I like what I see, I go after it,” he states unapologetically.
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes. “No, you need to prove to yourself that you can, in fact, get any girl who crosses your path. Your ego’s bruised. I understand,” I patronize patting his arm. “Well, don’t sweat it, Ace, I forfeit this race.”
He raises an eyebrow, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he finds something humorous in my comment. The muscle in his clenched jaw tics as he regards me momentarily. “Let’s get something straight,” he leans in, inches from my mouth, the gleam in his eyes warning me I’ve gone too far. “If I want you, I can and will have you, at anytime and in anyplace, sweetheart.”
I snort in the most unladylike way, astonished at his audacity, yet trying to ignore the quickening of my pulse at the thought. “Don’t bet on it,” I sneer as I hastily try to skirt past.
His hand whips out and grabs hold of my arm again, spinning me back toward him, so that I’m standing intimately close. I can see his pulse beat in the line beneath his jaw. Can feel the fabric of his jacket hit my arm as his chest rises and falls. I glance down at his hand on my arm and glare back at him in warning, yet his hold still remains. He leans his face in to mine so that I can feel his breath feather across my cheek. I angle my head up to his, not sure if I’m raising my chin in defiance or in anticipation of his kiss.
“Lucky you, I’m a gambling man, Rylee,” his resonating voice is just a whisper of sound. “I do, in fact, like a good challenge now and again,” he provokes, a mischievous smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He releases my arm, but runs his finger lazily down the rest of it. The soft scrape of his finger on my exposed skin sends shivers down my back.