come here a lot?" comments Logan as we settle into the cool leather seats. Logan swings his arm around my shoulder while Quaid gets as close as humanly possible on my other side, setting his hand possessively on my knee as he does so. Carter's gaze lingers on where Quaid is caressing the skin on my knee. As soon as he sees me looking, he tears his gaze away deliberately.
I shiver, and it feels a bit conflicted honestly. Quaid’s and Logan's touches are threatening to set me on fire, but there's also a tangible emptiness inside of me without Carter's attention.
Something is seriously wrong with me.
"I have a good friend who owns the place. I try and stop in a few times every time I'm in Paris on assignment," Carter answers, although it takes me a second to remember what the question is, since Quaid has started to inch his hand up my thigh.
The waitress brings over drinks, shooting me a friendly wink that has me feeling slightly less crazy. We spend the next hour drinking and people watching…and there are a lot of people to see.
Deciding that I'm ready to start dancing, I down my drink and two of the shots that the waitress brought us and stand up. "Alright, boys, who’s going to come out there with me?" I ask, letting the liquid courage rush through me.
"I'm in," Quaid says quickly, standing up and grabbing my hand exuberantly. I laugh at his antics while secretly delighting in this feeling of being wanted.
"I'll be there in a while," Logan comments, lifting his glass of bourbon in a salute to both of us.
I don't bother looking at Carter. He'll come when he wants…if he wants.
Quaid dances like a god.
I'm barely aware of the sweaty limbs that are hitting me because Quaid's control of my body is absolute. His hips move against mine seductively, never passing over that line where you're basically just fucking on the dance floor like so many of the people around us.
There's something hotter about Quaid's more subtle movements…like he's just giving me a taste, but the taste is enough for me to know that his bedroom skills would not disappoint.
His hands slide down the sides of my body, tightening on me. His voice is dark and dangerous as he whispers in my ear how much he loves my "fucking body" and how he can't wait to get me in bed.
I give my hips an extra flourish, and he growls, sending aroused shockwaves across my skin. I've never seen this side of Quaid, and it's something to behold.
He turns me around so that the front of our bodies are plastered against each other. He looks dangerous and wild under the flashing lights in his navy blue Henley and his form-fitting black jeans that had to have been specifically made for him with how good they look.
He stares into my eyes, hunger and intensity the most prominent emotions visible, as I stare back at him.
One of his hands moves from my hip, up to the base of my neck. His fingertips gently trace an invisible line from my collarbone down to the top of my dress and back, igniting a trail across my skin. I inhale sharply as a sharp bolt of arousal once again hits me.
He flips me around again and buries his face in my neck, as if he's right on the edge of losing control.
I'm debating trying to find a place in here for a quickie, until I look up and see a gorgeous woman sitting on Carter's lap.
I freeze in place as I watch her stroke Carter's hand lovingly with a red-tipped nail.
Logan's uncomfortably watching them, his gaze flicking to me worriedly, which tells me that whatever she's saying to Carter is exactly what I'm imagining.
I'm tempted for a second to ignore it.
Carter's not mine. Not anymore.
An angry voice inside of me calls me a liar.
And I agree with it.
"Let's head back," I tell Quaid, already pulling him with me back to the table.
"Shit," he mutters under his breath as he sees the goddess reclining on Carter.
And she is a goddess. Her hair's cut into a sleek bob. She's wearing bright red lipstick and a strapless black mini dress that perfectly showcases her willowy form. As we get closer, I can see that she has chocolate-colored eyes framed by long sooty lashes. Curse the French for having so many attractive women.
And do they all really have to want Carter?
We get to the table, and