Lead Me Home (Fight for Me #3)(78)

Irritated, Matt’s attention flicked to Ollie.

For a second, I thought he was going to refuse. Maybe he hadn’t known who it was before he’d looked, or maybe it hadn’t been until then that he’d caught on to the possessive indignation that radiated from Ollie’s flesh.

But Matt jolted and started to slowly back away. Eyes darting between us for a beat, annoyed and off-put before he seemed to give and disappeared into the fray.

Then Ollie looped a massive arm around my waist as he wound the other hand into my hair.

A gasp burst from my lungs.

Never, ever had Ollie touched me in public. Not like this.

He pulled me flush against his heat and strength and battering heart.

His forehead dropped to mine, and our bodies began to sway, to move in time to the beat, our hips rocking as we fell into the dance.

People throbbed around us, and he held me tighter. He bent down, wedging his knee between my thighs.

One hand gripped me by the waist, that thumb running dizzying circles on my hipbone.

“Nikki,” he murmured. My name sounded fragile and unsure where he released it an inch from my mouth. “I’m going to lose my mind, looking at you on this floor, another man touching you.”

My hands fisted in his shirt, desperate to get him closer.

“Ollie,” I whispered, close to begging.

What is this?

I can’t handle being this close to you, and you push me away again.

His nose brushed mine, and his expression verged on pained as he drew in a ragged breath.

Trembling with need.

We rocked in hesitation, and his mouth was in my hair, at my temple, running tenderly down my cheek.

Fire on my skin.

Then he brushed his lips across mine.

Once.

Twice.

So sweet.

Lightheadedness swept through me like a slow dream.

Then he crushed his mouth to mine.

Indecision erased. The man consuming me in a way he’d never done.

Openly.

It felt like a claiming.

His hand moved to the back of my head as he angled me just right. His tongue demanding all of me right out in the middle of the dance floor.

My heart took off at a sprint, racing for his that hammered in the air.

And we spun.

Kissing.

Kissing and kissing and kissing.

Desire flashed.

Ollie groaned.

I burned—every cell in my body coming alive under his touch.

He suddenly pulled away, and I was blinking, trying to find my senses. But the only thing I could see was this man.

Peering down at me, something so different in his gaze.

Powerful and unending.

My knees shook, and he took me by the hand, and that was when I noticed that all of our friends were frozen in the middle of the floor.

Shocked, every single one of them stared back at us.

Rex cracked a grin in Ollie’s direction, and Ollie just gave him a finger as he began to haul me back through the crowd.

Heat flushed my body, my cheeks.

Not because I was embarrassed or ashamed but because, for the first time ever, it felt like I was finally right, and I had no idea how long this feeling would remain.

I struggled to keep up on my heels as Ollie wound through the groups packed around the high-top tables, the man on a mission as he beelined for the darkened hall.

The second we were in it, he had me pinned, my back against the wall and my legs around his waist. He ground himself against my center.

Pleasure sparked.

He groaned, the man plundering my mouth as he did.

“Nikki,” he muttered, hands running the outside of my bare thighs. “Nikki.”

Without setting me on my feet, he jerked me from the wall, never ceasing that frenzied kiss as he carried me the rest of the way down the hall and started up the zigzagging stairwell.

We banged up the steps, the man spinning and pressing and clamoring, his hands everywhere.

Needy.

As needy as his mouth that consumed mine.

As needy as my pleas that whispered from my soul.

My hands threaded in his hair, and my body rocked against his.

Every brush spurred me higher.

“Ollie. Ollie,” I whimpered, swept away in his madness. Willing to float away forever if it meant getting to be with him.

He stumbled up the three flights of stairs. The music from downstairs became a dull, vibrating hum, our hearts becoming louder as he made it through the door to his loft.

He didn’t stop before he pinned me to the wall right outside his bedroom door. He pulled back, his cock straining against his jeans, pressed hot against my panties.

The man panted as he stared down at me with crazed, hungry eyes.

I searched for air. The only thing it accomplished was inhaling him. Taking on more.

Reaching out a trembling hand, I ran it slowly—tenderly—through the longer pieces of his hair. My head angled with the plea that cracked at the back of my throat. “I want this, Ollie. I want you. But I need to know this is what you want. I can’t allow you to trample my heart all over again. If you take me in that room, there’s no going back for me.”





25





Ollie





Her words blasted through my consciousness. A reminder of all the mistakes I’d made. The continuous hurt I’d inflicted.