doing?
Avoiding Harley like this—what is it supposed to accomplish?
I get up, start to pace.
It’s obvious: it’ll stop me from getting carried away again. It’ll set up some clear boundaries again. Prevent me from messing up again.
I glare at the glimpse of my reflection on the wardrobe door.
Still, what’s the point? What was done, was done. Avoiding her now doesn’t change what already happened.
Do I really want to, anyway?
I have my meal in my room, chowing down the tropical stew without hardly tasting it, wondering what she ordered. I try calling up my brothers, but none of them answer. I flick on the TV, mindlessly scrolling through channels. I shoot out some work emails, follow-up with the video editor who received our footage yesterday. Finally, I can’t take it anymore. I go to Harley’s room.
When I knock on the door, though, the maid, Maria, answers it.
“Looking for Madame?” she says, smiling.
“Yes.”
“She said she was going to the poolside lounge party. Is great fun.”
“Oh, OK.”
Before I realize quite what I’m doing, I’m headed there. All the way down the hallway, I can hear the music: loud and saucy and sensual.
I should turn back. I can’t.
Inside, the lights are a low red and slant across the dance floor and its sea of bodies. The bar at the far end looks busy. I scan the crowd, looking for her.
It takes a few scans before I see her. Even in the shadowed light, she’s gorgeous. Golden waves hanging wild across her shoulders as she moves, turquoise-lidded eyes closed, full hips grooving: she’s fully into it. And that dress clinging to her curves, paisley, white and blue outlining every part of her I ache to touch—my dress.
My cock hardens as I make for her.
Only once I’m there do I realize she’s dancing with someone.
No.
In a smooth movement, I spin her away, into my arms. Her eyes snap open, her easy smile disappears. “Greyson, what the hell?”
I should be pissed too, and yet I can’t be. “That dress looks good on you.”
“Yeah, well, thought I might as well get some wear out of it.” Her eyes are still narrowed on me, untrusting. “Finally finished with your calls?”
“Listen, I’m sorry, I—”
“No, you listen, if you want to play games, then I’m—”
My lips find hers and our bodies melt together.
There.
The spicy salsa music throbs our bodies on, and our foreheads tip together. She feels so good in my arms, her hips feel so good against mine.
Fuck. I could take her right here.
Our lips peel and remeet, peel and remeet. Christ do I want her.
Her eyes have a question in them when they meet mine, though.
All I can do is tell her the truth: “I’ve wanted to do that all day.”
A smile quirks on her face.
“C’mon,” she purrs, leading me by the hand to a bar set into a giant aquarium. “It’s on me.”
“No.” I step in front of her to get to the bartender first. “I’m not letting you pay for a thing here.”
She smirks. “Too late. I’ve already had a drink.”
“All the more reason to make it up to you.” I place some money on the countertop, catching the bartender’s eye. “Two vodka oranges, please.”
Almost immediately, two drinks appear. Harley picks up one and cocks a challenging eyebrow at me. “Trying to get me drunk?”
I lean in so that my lips are grazing hers as I speak. “For what we’re going to do tonight, I don’t need to.”
Her eyes widen and yet her body molds to mine as I put an arm around her.
Already, I’ve lost track of why I tried to avoid seeing her earlier, tried to avoid this. It seems as pointless and impossible as avoiding breathing.
Next thing I know we’re both drinking, downing our drinks fast and easy, cheers-ing the next ones, laughing, drinking from each other’s drink. All I know is that I want those lips on mine.
I dance us back to the dance floor, back to the sea of bodies.
We pass the man who might’ve been with Harley before. I don’t give him a second look. Harley is mine.
This next song is even faster than the one before it, conga drum beat slamming our bodies together then away, together then away. My cock is hard enough to burst, and Harley’s practically panting.
“Now,” I kiss into her ear, sweeping her up into my arms.
“Greyson!” she laughs, gaping up at me. “What are you…”
“What I should’ve done this morning. What I wanted to.”
I walk her through the crowd, out the lounge, down the hallway.
“Greyson! Put