Unexpected Gift(33)
I deserve to dance. I deserve a night of peace—mind and body. I make my way toward Kenna, who has her arms wrapped around the man’s neck as she leans against him, swaying her body against his.
She locks eyes with me, then rolls her eyes because I came to the dance floor without anyone, which isn’t a shocker to her, apparently.
I never come to the dance floor with someone.
She wraps her hands around my waist, and I sway, letting the music take control. I dance with my best friend and her ‘some guy’ and let everything fall away.
Everything fades.
A light sheen of sweat covers my body. My long, blonde locks stick to my flesh. The air gets thick, holding the steam from all the bodies on the dance floor. Lights strobe along with the beat of the songs. I taste the tequila on my tongue, numbing my inhibitions.
A different set of hands settle on my hips, pulling me toward him. I play with the bottom of my lip as I grin, wondering if I should dance with him. He gathers my hair and moves it to one side of my shoulder, placing his lips against the shell of my ear, and even in the heat of the club, my skin tingles.
Chapter Fifteen
Caden
The blonde dancing with me can really move. She has my cock half hard, dying to get to full mast the way she rubs against it over and over again with every sway of her hips. She was dancing with a friend, who is dancing with someone else, but it is so dark, I don’t get a good look at her, but I know the blonde is beautiful.
The lights flashed across her facial profile for a brief second, and I knew I couldn’t let the opportunity of her dancing alone pass me up. Some other guy would jump in, and I couldn’t have that. Her hair smells familiar, like oranges or something citrusy. It reminds me of something, but I can’t pinpoint what or where I last smelled it.
It is the night before my life officially changes forever, so I wanted to go out. Amelia’s father is watching Posie. At first, I asked Kim and Todd, Brandon’s parents, but Kim isn’t up for seeing Posie, she says it is too soon. I understand, but at the same time, I don’t. It is a little disappointing that she doesn’t want to see her grandchild because Posie reminds her of Brandon. That isn’t Posie’s fault. But grief differs from person to person, and I know it won’t last forever.
Damn, this woman can really move. I’m so glad we came out tonight or I would have missed out on this beautiful woman in front of me, letting me experience how good her body feels against mine.
The song changes to something with a slower, sensual tempo. My hand caresses her curves, dipping at her waist, before curving up to where her breasts stand high and perky. I don’t touch them. I respect my dance partners, no matter how dirty the dancing gets. I snag the fall of her hair in my hand and slide it across to the other shoulder, ghosting my lips over her ear.
“Your body is pure temptation,” I whisper in a husky, sex-marinated voice. Sliding, my lips over her earlobe as she hitches her hips, I circle them on my semi-hard shaft. I growl when my eyes lock where we are joined, pelvis to pelvis.
She doesn’t say anything as she lifts her arms around my neck, bringing my head down to her right shoulder. I spin us around from her friend because I want—no—I need her all to myself. I’ve never felt so attracted to someone in my life.
People think because I am a good-looking guy who could have any girl he wants—and that isn’t me being vain—I know I can— I have everything a man wants. I have a cushy job, friends, had Brandon and Amelia, and yeah, women.
I love women. Nothing is better than a tight body writhing under me as I give her pleasure. I love diving in deep, feeling snug walls, and making a woman orgasm. As a man? There isn’t a better feeling in the world than being the one to make my partner climax. It used to be my main purpose in life, right before the shift.
The shift?
That’s what I call the moment when Brandon died.
I have the ability to be a better man, and he always told me that, but I never actually believed him. And when he died, the urge to change hit me like a ton of bricks. I want to be better, but what scares me more? The woman I want to do it for is my best friend’s sister. His damn sister. How the hell am I supposed to do that when we can’t seem to be in the same room for more than ten minutes without arguing?
I know the feelings I have for her are because of the situation, and the woman I have in my arms has me re-evaluating those feelings real quick.
She turns in my arms, and her silky blonde hair falls over her face as she removes the space between us and dances on my knee, rubbing her pussy all over it. I wrap myself around her, enjoying her citrus scent and soft skin, and just let it all be.
I get lost in her. My skin buzzes and I don’t know if that is from all the drinks I had, or the beauty in my arms. I’ve never reacted like this, and amazingly, I have yet to see her face. I know it will be flawless, like the rest of her.
I lift my gaze to the friend the blonde was dancing with, but she isn’t there. Instead, Kenna stares back at me with wide eyes. I wave at her, not wanting to be rude, and she waves back, turning around in her dance partner’s arms. His eyes cut a stare at us and smiles at the punk rock hottie in his arms.
Damn, I guess they are hitting it off. Go, Kenna. I’ve always admired how bold she is in life, even though that damn smoking habit she has is disgusting and it needs to stop. But no matter how many times we all talk to her about it, she lights one up right in front us, just to spite us or something.