older side, mostly men and women in their fifties and sixties, some older, very few younger, wealthy executives with their spouses who’ve accumulated deep pockets over the years and are known to be generous donors at events such as this. As a result, the music is rather tame, somewhat sedate, and perfect for close, intimate dancing.
I lead her out into the middle of the dance floor, where she glides effortlessly beside me. As soon as we stop, the music shifts to something low and sultry. Perfect really. I take her into my arms and the world dims around me.
Every nerve in my body comes alive as my need for her flares with a rush of adrenaline so strong it nearly knocks me off my feet. My grip tightens and I tug her close. My hand travels freely up and down her back, moving to her shoulder blades, then sweeping down to the flare of her hips and over the rise of her ass. I feel every inch of her as her body seamlessly melts into me.
“I want you to spend the night with me.” I close my eyes and breathe her in. “Please say yes.”
Thirty-One
Grace
What’s happening to me?
It’s as if I’ve lost my ever-loving mind and have no control. I should push Brody away. Instead, I burrow into his embrace as his hands, those delicious hands, stroke my back, electrifying every cell in my body and short-circuiting my brain.
Heat, lust, desire. They battle it out as if they’re in a mad race for first place. Brody holds me tight as we sway in place, rocking back and forth. Music fills the ballroom with its sensual energy. This is a song for lovers. Something we will soon be again. Why? Because I tilt my face until my gaze captures the green fire burning in his eyes. I meet that desire with my own need. With our gazes locked, I give my answer.
“Yes.”
His low, throaty growl sends a ripple of heat shooting through my body. Those hands of his continue to roam all over my back and dip indecently down to my hips, over my ass. His fingers dig in, pulling me against his hardness.
I nestle into his strength, overwhelmed yet eager. Everything feels surreal as if this isn’t me standing in his arms. As if the press of his arousal isn’t hot, needy, and throbbing between us.
He gives another appreciative groan as I decide to do some exploring of my own. Smoothing my hands over his back, I trace up the wide flare of his shoulders and dip down precariously low on his waist. We’re spiraling fast and need to stop before we make a spectacle of ourselves on this dance floor.
“Grace…” His soft breath heats my cheek. “I need you now.”
“Now?”
“Now.” The resolute certainty in his voice should make me cautious; instead, my blood heats and my skin feels like it’s on fire.
“I need you.” His eyes fill with lust and desire. He slowly moves his lips toward my ear. His breath whispers across my neck. “I can’t wait to sink inside of you. It’s all I can think about.”
“But…”
He places his mouth on mine, tender at first, but quickly becoming more insistent and demanding as he deepens the kiss. The world fades around me as I cling to him and hang on tight. Soft and gentle builds to hungry and determined. I part my lips, unable to deny him anything he wants.
With that invitation, he takes full advantage and destroys any sense of self-preservation I may have left. Hands searching, lips pressing, and tongues tangling, the combination floods my senses.
All I can do is feel.
His body presses closer as the kiss turns hard, demanding, and wildly out of control. Sensations I’ve never felt before roll through me. Then everything comes to a sudden, crashing halt.
I stutter and stop; then my gaze lifts as I take in the room. Hundreds of eyes look back. Most with smiles. Some with smirks. And a few of the women hurl eye-daggers directly at me, slicing and dicing their competition. Their arms cross with expressions meant to kill. I’ve stolen their toy.
My breath hitches.
“I think we should go.” Brody’s husky laugh tells me he’s aware of the reactions in the room. He takes my hand in his and leads me off the dance floor as if we hadn’t been shamelessly groping each other moments before.
Brody leads me out into a hallway and drags me toward the entrance.
“I’m taking you home.” It’s a statement, not