Settling the Score (The Summer Games #1) - R.S. Grey Page 0,36

that possible? Why am I even here right now?”

I leaned forward and dropped my drink on the table in front of us.

“You’re here because I want you to be.”

She inhaled a shaky breath.

“Look up,” I said, tilting her chin back so that she was forced to see her reflection in the shattered glass. Like a good girl, she did, and I followed. She watched me in the mirror as I slid my hand up her thigh, pushing her red dress higher.

“Do you feel how fast your heart is racing? How badly you want me to lean in and drag my lips across your skin? Across this delicate patch of skin right here?”

I swept her hair aside and pressed my lips to her neck. She shivered against me but her eyes stayed locked on the ceiling.

I could see the outline of her breasts, heavy and bare beneath her dress. They’d fit perfectly in my hand, fill up my palm and then some. I pressed another kiss to her neck and her nipples pebbled, begging for my mouth.

She turned then, maybe to push me away or maybe to beg me closer, but I didn’t give her the chance to speak. I leaned forward and crashed my lips against hers, hungry with lust. I gripped her waist with one hand, and dragged my other hand up her neck, winding my fingers in her hair. She was shocked for that first second, frozen against me as her pulse beat a wild rhythm. Her hands pressed against my chest to keep me away, but in the end, they worked to pull me closer. She fisted my shirt and kissed me back, hard.

With her caged against the leather couch, I kissed her like I’d never have another chance. The music from the club drowned out our moans, but I could feel her pulling me closer, pushing me to take the lead. I dragged my hand up her bare back and she shivered against my touch.

She leaned against me and I felt another ounce of resolve melt away. I reached up to untie the black ribbon keeping her mask in place, but she pulled away and shook her head.

“Leave it on.”

There was a darkness in her that I didn’t want to test. I left her mask and trailed my hands down her back to grip her tiny waist. I waited for her to tell me to stop, to end the night right there. She skimmed her finger along my chin, studying my features. Her eyes followed her hand as it burned a path across my skin. She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to my lips—a soft, tentative thing that was over before I could close my eyes.

“Tonight, I don’t want to us to be Andie and Freddie.”

The tone of her voice plucked at my heart.

She pressed her lips against my neck and hid her face against the collar of my shirt.

I shook my head and cradled her against me. “We don’t have to be.”

And I meant it. We were alone in that corner with a black leather couch to make our own. No one noticed my hand sliding up her dress and no one glanced over when my fingers skimmed along her upper thigh, right past the silky material barring me from her. She pressed her lips against mine and dug her fingers into my arm. As I dragged my thumb across her clit, her moan was so soft I could hardly hear it. I wanted to reach up and rip the speaker off the wall, anything to make the sound of her pleasure easier to hear.

Maybe it was the masks or maybe it was Rio. There was something in the air, the promise of pleasure that made it impossible to stop.

“You’re the one I want. You,” I whispered to her, airing the truth, even though it meant we’d both be hurt when reality found us again.

Her mouth pressed against mine and I tried to contain her, to keep her there on the couch. Every time I brushed my thumb across her, her hips lifted to meet me. She was soft and beautiful and wet. I held her down, hiding her from the dark club as I slid a finger in and out of her. Even if someone did look over, they’d see nothing but our legs tangled together. It was the best I could do. There was no stopping myself. She knew I was a greedy bastard; there was no point in trying to