The white shirted man came into view, pushing a dancing kid out of the way and ignoring his protest. He stepped in front of her and, in an instant, she recognized the piercing gray eyes, the long ridge of his nose, the hard line of his slightly stubble jaw.
“Oh, hell,” she whispered, glad she had put down her empty hurricane glass ’cause she would have dropped it just then. Brayden came into full view, his tall body hard. Angry tension radiated off him in waves. Others seemed to recognize it too, because they subconsciously moved away, parting around them in a circle.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
Her heart pounded hard and way too fast. He cussed. Brayden didn’t cuss. Except he had twice now with her, and each time it made her a whole lot scared and a whole lot more excited.
“Dancing.” She knew her answer came out as a whisper, but his vampiric hearing picked it up easily because he stepped closer, his teeth actually clenched and bared.
“You’re coming home with me.” He moved to grab her arm but she stepped back, bumping into some dancers. She mumbled an apology and shot him a dirty look.
“No, I’m not. I just got here.”
His lips closed and his eyes seemed to get angrier, his entire body harder. God, why did that excite her?
“You’ve been gone for over an hour.”
A new song came over the loud speakers and the rhythm spoke to her on some primal level. Her body started swaying, dipping a little. She had to keep her moves, or what she had of them, under wraps because she had a feeling he wouldn’t like seeing her having fun.
“Feels like longer than that.” No wonder people came to dark, wicked places like this, dancing with strangers, drinking and relaxing in a way that otherwise seemed impossible.
He stepped forward and grabbed her wrist. Her whole chest suddenly felt heavy and hard to breathe as he yanked her forward. She knew what he was trying to do. He was going to drag her out of the club and take her to his boring, perfectly clean house. She wasn’t going to let him do it. Because of him, Joseph knew she was with him, or at least in Chicago. Because of him, what little she’d worked toward was ruined. Because of him, she’d set forth her little goals and began carrying them out. That one she could actually applaud him for, because otherwise she wouldn’t be here right now feeling loose and out of control.
She let him tug her wrist and went falling forward into his chest. He tried to tug her with him, but she maneuvered just right so her palms landed against the warm soft cotton of his T-shirt. God, he looked fucking good. Like hot damn good in that tee. It was a normal white crew neck with a pocket on the front. Looked like a five dollar shirt from a discount store or a Walmart, but on him, she wanted to rip it apart from the collar down and lick her way down his chest.
“Now is not the time to fuck around with the mood I’m in. Do you hear me? We’re getting the hell out of here.”
Three curse words now and her knees went weak. Her fingers dug into his chest and all kinds of hot sensations blew up inside her. She went wet, her breasts heavy. He was so hard, had strength and muscles in places she didn’t, that she really wanted to learn about...with her fingers and tongue.
“Dance with me,” she whispered, her voice ragged with untapped need.
His body turned even harder beneath her fingertips. His eyes bore into hers, a whole lot angry, and a little something else. God, she wanted that something else to be what was making her want to wrap every inch of her body around him right now until they were fused together.
“No, Vanessa. Now I’m warning you, I’m about ten seconds from picking your little ass up and carrying you out of here.”
A fourth curse word from his oh-so-controlled mouth. That definitely made her heart skip a beat. “Why do you care?” she asked.
His eyes narrowed and his jaw bulged. “You’re under my protection and you snuck out of my house and didn’t tell me where you were going. Something could have happened.”
Her hands had a mind of their own and flattened, rubbing up his chest to curl around his shoulders. God, that felt good. He had hard shoulders with a dip in front where the muscle flared at the back. She bit her lip as she grew wetter between her legs.
“How did you find me?”
He flicked his hard gaze to her hands then shoved them away, but she wouldn’t be denied. Not with the warmth flowing through her body like warm honey. So she grabbed his waist and wanted to moan at the hard muscle there, but she pressed on until she had her arms wrapped around him, her breasts pressed flat to the heat of his hard stomach.
And he didn’t push her away, but he did send her a warning look. “I have GPS in the car. I can track it with my phone.”
“Sounds fancy,” she murmured, her eyes memorizing the hard plane of his chest. She could just see the outline where his pectoral met his abdomen. She wet her lip as her mouth tingled to press against that spot. His body was hard everywhere, so unlike her mate’s.
His lip twitched in an angry way. “How drunk are you? Do you think you can walk out of here without my help?”
The song picked up its sultry, throbbing tempo and she started dancing around his big strong body, rubbing her breasts against him, sliding her thighs around his. She dipped low at a particular point in the song and grazed her cheek along the button of his jeans, and boy did he look sexy as hell in jeans. The man should be forbidden from ever wearing a suit or those preppy golf clothes again, because it was sin to hide that gorgeous body from view. She dipped just a little more and her nose slid down along his zipper before she rolled her chest forward and stood.
“Dance with me.” She stared into his eyes, begging him to give in, to give her this moment.
But now he looked like he was about to explode in anger.
“I warned you,” was all he said and then he bent and lifted her into his arms so easily. He sent threatening glares at everyone until they cleared a path for him. The man acted like he owned the place.
“Oh, God,” she whispered and buried her head in his neck to hide the raging fire blazing her burning cheeks. “This is so embarrassing.”
Well, in a small way it was nice, because she got to wrap her arms around his neck which felt very hard and strong under her fingertips.
“God, you’re strong.”
“Shut up, Vanessa.”
She did, but not because he told her to. She curled closer in his arms because, wow, did he feel warm and powerful. Every cord of muscle pressed against her felt hard and firm. She heard a door open then cool air swept her hair back. It also carried his scent closer. She breathed in deeply, then buried her nose in his neck. His arms tightened around her, which her body must have taken as an invitation, because she sucked in that delicious masculine scent then pressed her lips there.
His neck flexed under her lips. “Stop that, woman.”
She laughed a little. No wonder people drank. She had no worries, her whole body felt amazing and she had a sexy-ass man carrying her like she weighed nothing. It’d be romantic if he wasn’t walking as fast as he could and every word out of his mouth spewed with anger. That and his body pulsed with anger like he wanted to hit something or shout up a storm. Oh, well.
She darted her tongue out and licked at his neck. Her body and breasts throbbed. He even tasted good, warm and masculine. Her fingers itched to touch him, so she did. She trailed her fingertips across the back of his neck then up into his hair. His soft hair tickled her fingers and she loved the way the slightly curling locks wrapped around her fingers.