dessert comes out (chocolate truffle cake with Chantilly cream), I’m almost in a blissed-out coma because it’s so good. I groan and lick the back of my spoon, wanting to savour every morsel. “Yeah, sex is cool, but have you ever tried this cake?”
Theo bursts out laughing and looks down at my plate. “Is it that good?”
I flick my eyes to the passion fruit cheesecake he chose and grin. “You messed up big time.”
His spoon darts out towards my plate, and I gasp, slapping the back of his hand as he tries to cut off a chunk of my dessert.
“Ahh, come on, share? There’s no way that dessert is better than sex. Maybe you’ve been doing it wrong?” He playfully raises one eyebrow.
My insides quiver, and while I’m distracted, he steals a chunk of cake from my plate, devouring it before I can protest.
His eyes narrow, and his head drops back. “Holy crap, that is the most perfect cake in the world. Nothing can taste better than that. That’s the pinnacle of cakes. All other chocolate cakes should be ashamed to even share its name. Why didn’t I order it?” He pouts down at his cheesecake that he was wholly content with less than a minute ago.
I chuckle and send him a grin as I shrug one shoulder and start eating again. His eyes watch my every move as I finish every last crumb of it; it’s kind of sexy.
After we’re finished eating, Jared and Amy cut the wedding cake and pose for numerous photos before they have their first dance. Theo resumes stroking across my arm, and it makes my whole body sing with pleasure.
After a couple of songs, he stands and holds down a hand to me. “Dance?”
I can’t very well say no and leave the best man hanging, so I slip my hand into his and let him lead me to the dance floor. There are a few other couples dancing, only the important ones, like parents and bridesmaids. As Theo pulls me closer to him, I hold my breath and look up at him through my eyelashes. Tingles spread through my whole body as he wraps his arms around me, setting one hand on the small of my back and the other on the bare skin at the nape of my neck. His touch sears its way through my skin, heating my blood.
It’s romantic as we sway to the beat of the song. My chest is pressed against his, my hands curl around his shoulders as he dips his head, and our cheeks brush together, his hot breath blowing down my neck. I get another of those inappropriate scorching flashbacks of his lips on my neck, my ear, my collarbone, and I shiver as desire pools in my belly. I desperately want him to snog me silly, right in the middle of the dance floor with everyone watching.
Luckily—or maybe unluckily, depending on how you look at it—the song comes to an end before my lust spills over and drowns us both. Theo is immediately dragged off by Anne. He throws me an apologetic look as he dances with the mother of the bride, then his own mum grabs him for her turn, and then he dances with the bride herself. I watch that one for signs of his heart breaking as he dances with Amy, but there’s nothing—no lingering touches, no yearning looks or signs of pain on his face. They simply laugh and talk the whole time. He spins her dramatically, the pair of them behaving ridiculously as people around them grin and watch the spectacle. It just looks like a fun dance between friends and family. The fist that has been gripped around my stomach the whole time seems to loosen, but I don’t even want to think about why or what caused it.
Theo’s eyes keep flicking to me as I dance first with Tim and then with some guy called Noah, who flirts shamelessly with me and barely manages to keep his hands off my arse and eyes from my cleavage. When the dance finishes, I excuse myself to the toilets quick smart, spending a couple of extra minutes checking my hair and reapplying my lipstick so he’ll move on to someone else. Not that I’m not flattered by his attention, but I’m just not interested.
Returning to the room, I note the music has become more upbeat ’80s classics. Jams to get people up on their feet blast from the speakers. The dance