Love Triangle Six Books of Torn Desire - Willow Winters Page 0,198

into him, too, I think.”

“You think?”

I shrug. “I think he’s ready to be more than just friends.” I throw air quotes around just friends.

“And you’re not? I mean how hot was it watching all that money?”

“I just want to take it slow,” I say.

“I get it. But don’t take it so slow that you push him away and lose your chance.”

She’s right, and I know that. I can’t help the fleeting images in my mind of my night with Mark. The Mandarin Oriental is directly next door to where we are now, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s here in Vegas tonight, staying in his penthouse, overlooking the hotel where I’m standing now. If he’s thinking about me as much as I’ve thought about him.

It hasn’t even been a week, but it’s not like I’ll ever see him again. It’s time to move on.

It’s with that thought in my mind that I allow my lips to form a big smile meant just for Brian. Taking it slow is overrated, and I need to stop denying myself what I need to get past the ghosts of my past, no matter how recently those ghosts stepped into my life.

Chapter Eight

The dance floor is a humid mass of bodies and I’m more than a little drunk.

Once I decided I didn’t want to take things slow, something snapped inside me and pushed me to wake the hell up. I saw my life from a new perspective, and I saw that I was working as my own worst enemy. I refuse to do that to myself any longer.

On that note, I ordered vodka for my first drink at the club even though I was still tipsy from the drinks we had before blackjack. I pounded the first glass and started on my second, and now my inhibitions are shot. All I can think about as Brian’s hips grind with mine is what it would be like to share a bed with him tonight.

When the familiar sounds of Mark Ashton’s smooth voice pump through the speakers as Vail’s current chart-topper plays, I’m tipsy enough that the song doesn’t make me cry.

Just like when I wore the gold dress to my first dinner with Brian as a way to replace old memories in it, I think I need to make some new memories to this song.

“I love this song,” I say, and then I throw my head back and start shouting out the words I know so well. Brian leans forward to nuzzle my neck as I do, the stubble along his jaw burning a trail on my neck and igniting a blistering passion in my chest.

I’m thankful for the alcohol. It’s helping me make decisions that my sober mind wouldn’t agree with, but this is what I need. It’s like I’m finally thinking clearly, finally stepping out of my good girl persona and into the hidden minx that’s always been dormant inside me.

I lower my head and he’s centimeters away. I do what feels natural. I lean forward and press my lips to his.

I’m tentative at first despite the alcohol. His lips are firm and soft, a contradiction that feels absolutely right, but I’m leading here. I’m the one who kissed him.

I may be tentative, but he’s not. He’s hot and assured, pushing his hips harder against me to show me that he wants this…wants me. His arms tighten around me as our tentative kiss escalates.

His mouth opens to mine, and that’s when the music stops—or it keeps going, I don’t know, because all I’m aware of are my primal instincts. I meet his hips as they push to mine, our bodies pressed together as passion takes over. My hands trail up to feel his hair. It’s soft and thick, and I luxuriate in rolling a few strands around my fingertips. His hands grip my back, fingertips digging into the exposed flesh, as if it’s the only way he can prevent himself from getting me naked in the middle of a crowded dance floor.

He breaks our kiss first. He’s a bit breathless and I’m a panting mess.

He leans into me, pulling me into a hug and nuzzling my neck. He turns so his lips are near my ear. “I’ve wanted to do that since that morning you ran into me when you got off the elevator.”

I think to myself that I’ve wanted that, too, but I was scared, too caught up in my own head, too stupid to see what was right in front