Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2)(49)

“We have to get back,” she gasped.

“Give me five minutes,” I growled, inching her skirt up, “I’ll make it count.”

“Not here! Let’s at least find someplace private!”

I stepped away from her, panting. I was holding onto the last piece of my self-control by one tiny thread. “Lead on. I wasn’t kidding about a closet.”

“You can’t mess up my hair, okay? This party will go on for hours, and I want to look my best when I’m meeting all these new people.”

I laughed. She had no problem with me screwing her brains out in a closet, but she was worried about her hair. I thought it was too f**king adorable.

Her nose wrinkled as she saw me laughing. “Shut up. It took the hairdresser two hours to get it just right, so I want to get full use out of it.”

I was still laughing as she led me down the hallway.

She tried each door we passed until we found one that was unlocked. After we got in, it was another chore to find the lights.

I took vague note of the fact that it was some sort of office before I was pinning her to the door, lifting that wisp of a dress up to her hips.

I freed myself with one hand, the other fumbling with her top, trying to pull it down off her shoulders.

She shook her head. “It’s taped on in a few places,” she explained as she took my hand in hers, sliding it through the opening in her side so I could touch her, skin on skin. My hand snaked up to grip her breast.

I groaned, shifting my hips, rubbing against her until I felt her warm, wet entrance. I pushed in deep, deeper, going until I was buried to the hilt. I didn’t move for one beat, two, just enjoying the perfect feel of it.

With a rough groan, I began to move.

I loved her response, her writhing hips, her gasping, ragged cries. I loved the smell of her sweet breath as it panted unsteadily against my face.

My movements became rough, jerky, as I got close. I growled and pawed. My eyes closed as I savored every tight squeeze, every wet slide.

“Oh God Tristan, I love you!” she cried.

Buried deep in her, utterly submerged, body and soul, I came.

Pulling out of her just about had me attacking her again, but I controlled myself. This round had been enough to take the edge off. I could wait a few hours for the rest.

We cleaned up in the nearest bathroom, and Danika took a few minutes to straighten her clothing, and refresh her makeup.

“That dress,” I said slowly, letting the words drawl out of my mouth like a caress.

She smiled her seductress smile. It was overkill, at this point. “I knew you’d either love it or hate it.”

“Can’t it be both?”

She laughed. “Or that. It’s part of the show. It’s to catch the judges’ eyes.”

“So you’re saying that I need to go take out some judges?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told. In case I didn’t tell you, you look beautiful. That dress is infuriating, but it is ravishing on you.”

She flushed in pleasure. “Thank you. Compliments from you are my absolute favorite.”

I let that one roll around in my head, taking it to mean that she’d gotten a lot of compliments from people that weren’t me.

That was hardly surprising, but still not reassuring. The caveman part of me that she liked to tease me about would have preferred to keep her locked away, for my eyes only.

“Your partner,” I began.

She waved me off. “He’s harmless and a very nice guy, so please don’t scare him off. We’re learning together, and it’s been a good partnership so far.”

I nodded, but my jaw clenched, and I considered dragging her into another room to help me cope with my temper in a way that made us both happy.

I missed my chance, and we were in the party again, mingling with dancers. Somewhere along the way, she was separated from me.

When she reappeared, and she wasn’t alone.

“Tristan, this is Anthony, my dance instructor, and my partner, Preston.”

It’s a punk name, I thought. I smiled at him. It felt unpleasant. “Nice to meet you.” I managed not to say it through my teeth.

He tried to smile back, but he had to tilt his head back to look up at me, and I could tell that I intimidated the hell out of him. Good. I planned to scare the shit out of him before we left tonight. He may as well know what I’d do to him if he made a move on my girl.

Danika moved just out of earshot as her instructor introduced her to some other dancers.

“Two cops Tasered me at the same time once, and it barely phased me,” I told Preston the Punk, my tone quiet and idle, my smile nasty.

He turned an interesting shade of green.

Danika and Anthony rejoined us, introducing us to someone or other, and I watched Anthony’s hand at her waist. I didn’t much care for him, either, but at least he hadn’t been pawing her on the ballroom floor mere hours before.

The group made small talk, but I stayed quiet, watching Danika, and the way she smiled, the way she laughed. She seemed happy here, with these people.

Preston was hell-bent to get on my shit list, and he sidled close to her often. Once he even went down on a knee in front of her, handing her a red rose with a flourish. When she moved her hand to take it, he grabbed and kissed it, making some comment about how he loved working with her.