Kyle nods and looks to me to say, “Go, finish your song, and then I’ll take you home.” My gaze snaps from his mouth to his eyes. They're telling a story, and I love the ending. Our breaths expel at the same time, and we’re fused together even without physical contact.
I can’t think. Standing abruptly, I knock my chair back and reach around to save it from falling over. Kyle’s hand lands behind my knee, steadying at first in its grip and then soothing my overheated skin. Every nerve cell in my body stands to attention, waiting for his command. I feel everything—the tips of his fingers as they graze over my skin. Shivers follow. The warm pad of his palm presses down, awakening an urge to move over him. My muscles contract. The warm spread of his hand trails up my leg, his thumb an inch from the Promised Land.
A groan escapes my parted lips and my body readies to accept him. I can feel the evidence dampen my bikini bottoms. Kyle. A man I just met promises with his look and a touch to bring more pleasure than any other brought before. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and I like a man who takes control. I want to give it up, to feel the freedom that comes with giving in.
My hand is drawn to his hair, the front of it rebellious, just like him. Longer than the rest, it begs to be pulled and I mark it as a must-do. Mickey’s laugh drags my gaze from his and has me rolling my eyes at his merriment. I just want to finish this song and get Kyle out of here.
“Let’s go. You’re having way too much fun.” I grab Mickey’s arm and pull him on stage.
“Fun.” He laughs and slaps his thigh. “I didn't think I'd live to see the day someone finally got under your skin, little girl. ’Bout time you started feelin’ something for someone.”
“May I remind you, he hasn't gotten anything but a beer at the bar.”
Mickey raises his brow, and gives me a leveled eye. “You can't stay locked up on this island the rest of your life.”
“The hell I can't. No man is going to change my life. Not again.”
Shaking his head, he says, “Sing me a song and then take that boy out of here.”
The music is cued up and my heart races ahead of the beat. I’m never nervous on karaoke night, but butterflies are antsy in my stomach, no doubt because of Kyle. His rapt attention is more nerve-wracking than the other hundred people watching.
We sing the same song every week, sometimes adding another, but “Islands in the Stream” is Mickey’s favorite. It’s become easy for me, the words second nature, so I don’t have to watch the monitor. Instead I study Kyle. I’m diverted by the smirk that hasn’t left his face, and his eyes that have fallen into shadow. The ice is melting into a pool of amusement, and most definitely hunger. He wants me, and I’m okay with that.
I left New York two years ago to escape violent hatred after my fiancé ruined countless lives, including mine, and my reputation along with it. My sole purpose was to start over, alone; I don't want to care about anyone or anything. I like numb disinterest.
Kyle threatens that because I can't stop my body from reacting to his. I can't help but like his smile and the thrill of his proposition. The only thing saving this is the duration, and if he makes good on his promise: I want it hot and sweaty.
Kissing Mickey on the cheek as the song ends I hop from the stage, bee-lining for the bar. I want a shot, but I’ll settle for water. Kyle’s getting to me, and the nerves that started at the beginning of the song have flourished. He either needs to take me or take me home.
It’s not the longevity, or lack thereof, causing the rumble of emotions. What I can’t comprehend is the growing sense of belonging I have toward him. It’s not normal. I met him hours ago. It’s only tonight, yet it feels like so much more.
Chapter Four
Kyle
The soft slide of her skin lingers on my hand the entire time she’s on stage. I’m hooked, unable to look away. She’s my Dolly and I’m her Kenny. There’s definitely something going on between us, something unexplained, something I never knew I sought until the moment I realized it was missing. Her eyes never leave mine, the song rolling off of her tongue. Mick and Faith have done this before, but I’d bet last month’s paycheck this is the first time she’s done it with a blush deepening the soft pink of her cheeks.
As soon as it’s over, she flies past me to the bar. She’s two steps behind me, so I’m on her in an instant. Leaning my nose into her hair, I breathe fresh air and jasmine, taken even further under her spell. My arms hold her prisoner on either side as I ease my body against hers. There’s no hiding my reaction to her when we’re this close, and I’m not ashamed of it.
“I messed up,” she says.
Shit, is she changing her mind? Ah, that’s a no. Her ass backing up and grinding into my dick confirms it. Game on.
“Mmmm, I didn’t hear anything but an angel singing,” I whisper, digging in to find the earlobe I tasted earlier.
Turning her head so our lips brush together, she says, “For some reason, I was distracted. I couldn’t concentrate.”
Her breath floats into my mouth when she talks, and I take in everything. Fuuuck, I’m so done—lost to her in every way. She sighs and rotates in my arms until we’re pressed chest to chest, hip to hip. I move even closer, eliminating the slightest notion of separation. There’s not much more to ask for in life after her arms reach up and close around my neck. A herd of goddamn dinosaurs could stampede through here and I wouldn’t know it. My only thought is getting her in bed, or against the wall, or anywhere I have the chance to get in her.
She’s staring at my mouth with heavy lids. When her tongue makes an appearance, tracing along the line of her bottom lip, I lose all sense of time and ready myself to dive into her. Christ.
“I don’t remember trying to distract you, but I can think of a few ways I know how,” I say, rolling my hard dick into her stomach. God, she feels good. But I'm not much on exhibitionism, so it's time to go. “Take me to heaven, Angel.”
She throws her head back and laughs. “Who in their right mind ever taught you that pick-up line?”
My fingers sink into her hair, gripping to hold her in place as I scrape my teeth up her neck. “Is it working?”
While her hands rip down my back in a promise of what's to come, someone else grabs my shoulder, prying us apart. What in the fuck?
“Get off. The lady needs some space.”
Out of my peripheral vision, I watch a lanky guy tug at my elbow, but I have yet to move. No way in hell I’m letting anyone pull me away from having Faith.
“I didn’t hear her complaining,” I say, while keeping her eyes on mine. They’re wide and cool. Great. Just fucking great.
“I’m fine, Derrick. More than fine. I’m exactly where I want to be. I don’t need your help.”
Damn straight she’s more than fine with my dick pressed into her. He pays no attention, looking at me with a good level of disdain. Closing my eyes for just a second I let my head rest against hers while I take a deep breath, searching for some inner peace so I don’t pummel him into the ground. I guess I can’t blame him. I’d do the same if I thought she needed saving. But his next move sets me off. Yanking my shoulder, he tries to move me.
I’m not going anywhere.
Fuck-nut leans into my face, really in my face, close enough that I can smell his stale breath and now I’m mad. Erasing the sweet scent of Faith with this swank has me come undone. Spinning on my heel, I put her behind me and tilt my head down to look at him over my nose.
“Last time I checked you weren’t invited to this party for two. I’ll ask one time nicely. Leave.” My request is clear and I know he gets it. His eyes glaze over as they flick to my clenched fists. But he just won’t go.
“Who do you think you are? You can’t show up here and mess around with her.”
“I didn’t ask for permission, dick,” I draw it out just to be an ass. “Now if you’ll excuse us, I’m taking her home.”