Assured (Soul Serenade #2)(4)

Tristan, who is on the other side of Lauren, asks her a question, which steals her attention from Stacy. Feeling brave, I lean in close and whisper, “Your skin is so soft.”

Again the goose bumps, only this time I can see a slight tremor in her shoulders.

Perfect.

“It’s not going to work, Hampton.” She laughs. It’s not her normal, “I’m cutting up with you, that’s funny” laugh. No, this laugh is . . . nervous. I’m making her nervous. Score, Hampton!

“What’s not going to work?” I feign innocence.

She glances over at me and smiles softly, shaking her head. I’m bringing my A game tonight. I want this girl, have for months. She’s not going to know what hit her.

“Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention.” The wedding planner’s voice rings through the reception hall. “I would like to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Kacen Warren.” The room breaks out in applause. “The bride and groom will take their first dance as man and wife. The wedding party will then join for the second dance,” she announces.

In any other situation, I would be irritated with this shit. But this is for my boy and Logan. Not to mention I get to hold Stacy’s tight little body next to mine, just like I told her I would.

Fucking finally!

Stacy reaches for her wine glass and slowly drains it. Liquid courage, I’m sure. I know my words from earlier are bouncing around in that little head of hers.

Kacen and Logan’s dance is over and guests break out in a chant of “Kiss, kiss, kiss.” Not having to be told, but willing to go with it, Kacen dips Logan over his arm and lays a smoking-hot kiss on her.

The wedding planner motions for us, and I stand and reach for Stacy’s hand. “That’s our cue, sweets.” I watch as she stares longingly at her empty champagne glass before relenting and placing her hand in mine. Gripping it tightly, I place my other hand on the small of her back. I’m taking every excuse I can think of to touch her.

As Steven Tyler’s voice comes through the sound system, I pull Stacy in to my chest and clasp my hands on the small of her back. I feel her try to take a step back, but I just tighten my hold on her. Not happening, sweetheart.

“Is it as good as you thought it would be?” I ask her.

She raises her head in confusion, those green eyes taking me in. “What?” she asks hesitantly.

Leaning close—one, so I can breathe her in and two, because I know the effect it has on her—I whisper in her ear. “This. Being in my arms.”

A smile lights up her face as she throws her head back in laughter. “You’re too much.”

You have no idea, baby.





Breathe in. Breathe out.

I have to keep reminding myself. Cole is the definition of sexy. He’s tall, lean—and that hair. I hate to admit that I’m envious of his brown locks. My hands are resting on his shoulder, itching to pull that elastic band holding his bun at the top of his head, letting it fall around his shoulders. I’m not ashamed to admit that I’ve spent many nights fantasizing about running my fingers through his hair, holding on tight when he . . . Focus, Stacy.

I laugh nervously at his comment and focus on the other couples around us. Logan and Kacen are blissfully happy, doing their thing, and from the looks of it, Lauren and Tristan are as well. Gavin and Cassidy are in deep conversation. None of them are aware of my inner turmoil.

Soft yet firm lips press against my neck, capturing my attention.

Cole.

Sexy.

Relentless.

Trouble.

“You are so f*cking sexy,” he growls. Yes, he growls in my ear, his lips trailing up my neck. He’s pulling out all the stops tonight. This is new for us.

Shit.

I need a drink.

“Cole. . . .”

“Stacy,” his deep voice rumbles in my ear.

“What are you doing?” I ask the question, but my sex-starved brain tilts my head to the side, giving him access. Those lips, though.

“Trying to seduce you.” At least he’s honest. “Is it working?”

Is it? Fuck me, but it could. It would be so easy to fall into a night of passion with him. Let him have his wicked way with me.

Yes, please!

“Cole, you know this can’t happen. We can’t happen,” I say instead.

“Oh, sweetheart, it can,” he replies, nipping at my earlobe.

Holy f*cking shit! He’s lethal to my libido. Thankfully, the song changes, allowing me to gather my wits and pull away from him. “Thank you for the dance,” I say, before I turn and hightail it back to the table. I know that I’ll still have to sit next to him, but at least our bodies won’t be pressed together. His lips won’t be against my heated skin.

Distance. That’s what I need.

On my way back to the table, I grab a fresh glass of champagne from a passing waiter. It’s gone by the time I make it to my seat. Luckily, my bestie married a rich-as-hell rock star who hired more servers than needed. As soon as my ass hits the seat, a waitress appears beside me, offering another glass. This time, I take two.

My second glass is gone by the time Cole takes his seat beside me. He throws his arm over the back of my chair and resumes his previous torture of running his finger across my shoulders. I was able to ignore it before our dance, but now? Not only does a chill break out across my skin, but I feel it . . . everywhere. Not willing to look at him, I tip back my third glass of champagne in less than five minutes. I know I need to slow down, but I welcome the calm it brings me.