The Trouble With Quarterbacks - R.S. Grey Page 0,59
were hundreds of people in that room and it probably wasn’t a good idea to greet you the way I want to. Not while they all watch.”
My eyes go wide as he steps near me, crowding my space.
“Right, well, say your hello and then we can—”
He lifts his hand to the base of my chin and tilts it up with his pointer finger. I go absolutely silent as he stares down at me, taking his time as his gaze drops from my face, lower, over my dress, eating me up.
“You look stunning,” he says, his eyes still on the shimmery silver fabric covering my body.
“Th-thanks. Kat and Yasmine convinced me to wear this. I thought it was a bit much.”
“Oh, it definitely is.”
My lip trembles. “You don’t like it?”
His dark eyes whip back up to my face. “I didn’t say that.”
Then he takes a step closer and his hips touch mine. My body softens instantly, like I’ve been waiting days for the moment I’d feel him against me like this. Clearly, he’s been anxiously waiting for this too, because he’s not acting decent at all. Dragging me in here, pinning me up against the wall—the nerve!
“Are you going to kiss me?” I whisper as his head starts to descend.
Instead of answering me, his lips capture mine.
It’s like I’ve just been struck by a bolt of lightning, all that electricity zapping through me as he kisses me harder. I drop my clutch on the floor so my hands can slide up to the lapels of his tuxedo jacket, and I hold on to him there as I rise up onto my toes. My high heels don’t do enough, not since he’s so bloody tall.
His hands find my hips and then he skims them back and around, touching my bare skin underneath the thin straps holding my dress in place. His touch is fire, and I respond like a pyromaniac, wanting to set us both aflame.
I grip his lapels harder as his hands slide across my skin and press against my lower back, bringing me against him. Our bodies are flush and hot and the longer we kiss, the less I can think straight. He’s too good at this, dismantling me so that I’m nothing more than my baser needs. His kiss is the only lifeblood I need. He sustains me with it, not letting up even when I start to feel lightheaded.
His hands lead me further toward darkness as he slides back around to my front, then lower, between my legs, up and inside the slit that keeps the two parts of my dress together. I’m staring down the barrel of the gun as his fingers slide over my panties. And then his finger is on the trigger.
Wet. The word rattles me as he brushes me there. Again.
I shiver and push him away, hard.
I blink my eyes open, and I know this idea I just concocted is wild. I know…but well, this dress is giving me quite a lot of courage, and the last time we fooled around, I was the lucky one. It’s only fair that this time it should be him. I want to drive him mad. I want to provide him with an image that racks through his brain the rest of the evening, so I ignore him when he protests the fact that I’ve broken off our kiss. He even steps closer and tries to grip my chin and seal his mouth on mine again, but I tut like he’s being naughty then lock eyes with him as I start to get down on my knees. My chin slips from his fingers and his eyes go molten. He knows what I’m after, and there’s no going back now. A woman only kneels down in front of a man for one reason, and it’s not to surrender. It’s to wage war.
“Candace,” he murmurs breathlessly, his voice heavy with lust as my hands glide down his tuxedo-clad thighs.
The cold concrete bites into my knees as I settle in place, but what’s a little discomfort compared to the look on Logan’s face right now? I’m not even touching him, not yet, and already I’ve won. Poor guy.
“You look really handsome tonight,” I say, my hands drifting up higher, toward the noticeable bulge in his trousers. I skim around it like a tease, and he hisses in a sharp breath as my fingers fall on the black button. I shift it out of the hole then reach for the zipper. It