“I don’t think she is.” I laugh.
“Enjoy,” she replies sweetly, before she walks away.
Brannon growls, muttering something under his breath about her being a hellfire and having his hands full with her. He slides out of his seat and follows along behind her. I didn’t even get to order my drink.
“If he’s not going to drink this, I will.”
Graham grabs my wrist in his hand, stopping me. “I think you’re good for now. Don’t you?”
Staring down at his grip on me, I want to fire back, but then he stands and pulls me up with him.
“It’s been awhile,” Graham intimates, leaning in close to me. “Why don’t you show me your moves?”
If I wasn’t feeling the effects of the alcohol already, I was feeling them now. Or it was the Graham effect. Good lord, he has a way of making me so wanton.
He pulls me along behind him. I hear Callum catcall behind us, followed by Mason yelling “finally.” As soon as we approach the dance floor, he slows down, putting his arm around me as the crowd of people envelops us. People on the dance floor move. The beat of the music pulsating, almost like the way my body feels having Graham near.
When we’re far enough away from the table, Graham stops and pulls me into his arms. Everything around us falls away, and it’s just the two of us.
Wrapping his arms around me, his hands roam over my backside. Feeling his hands on me again with the limited space between us, it’s heady. I don’t want him to stop. Gripping the front of his shirt in my hands, I lean forward till there’s only an inch separating our mouths.
It’s a bold move. I know it and so does he. I’m tempting him because damn it, I want him so bad.
He leans in further. We’re so close to kissing now, I can nearly taste him on my lips. The look of desire and sweat coat his face.
Digging my nails into his chest, I drag them down his front until I reach the waistband of his jeans. He bites his lower lip telling me he likes where this is going, but he doesn’t move or stop me.
Turning, I press my back against him, grinding my ass against him. I can feel every inch of him, and the thought of having him again makes my legs weak with how much I want him.
“Halle,” he breathes into my ear, pressing his hand against my stomach holding me against him.
We dance together off and on throughout the night and every time we do, it’s like we somehow get closer. It makes me miss the times when I could kiss him and touch him. I almost feel like looking back on them now, I took those moments for granted.
Now I crave the chance to be near him in a way that is unhealthy for me. Like I’d go to lengths to have him around me that are not becoming, but I honestly don’t give a damn.
Later that night, we both step off the elevator together. The sexual tension between us is so thick. I almost want to slow down and take my time getting to our doors, knowing this is the point when we will part ways, and I don’t want our time together to end.
Standing in front of my door, Graham leans in and whispers “goodnight” against my ear. His lips drag along the edge of my ear. He pulls himself away, as he swipes the keycard to his room and disappears inside. My body feels the loss of him as soon as he’s gone. I sigh against the door, immediately missing him and regretting the missed opportunity to kiss him.
I miss the feel of his soft lips on mine, the way his large hand would wrap over the side of my face, tangling his fingers in my hair.
It’s evident he wanted to kiss me, and God, I wanted to kiss him too. Everything in me wanted to take what we’ve both been denying ourselves since I first saw him standing in my doorway weeks ago.
Flashing the keycard in the door, I rush inside and toss my purse on the bed. Looking in the mirror, I fix my hair and adjust the front of my dress, giving the girls a little bit of lift.
Walking back to the door that separates our rooms from each other, I quietly knock on it before stepping back and waiting. The nerves hit me, jitters breaking out over my body.
The lock on the door clicks just before Graham’s face appears. His shirt is off and just like that the game’s over. My resolve is gone, chucked somewhere behind me along with my plans to continue pushing his buttons making him regret leaving me.
“Something wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
In this moment, all that is left standing there is just him and me. Pushing the door open all the way, I’m caught off guard when I find him with his pants unbuttoned and his boxer briefs peeking out from below his jeans.
“Yes, something’s wrong. It’s wrong how bad I want you, how bad I fucking need you right now,” I say, running the palm of my hand over his chest.
His skin breaks out in goose bumps, as my finger traces his abs down to the edge of his boxer briefs. Wrapping my hand into the front of his jeans, I pull him closer to me.
He doesn’t expect it, and I love how bold I feel. How it takes him by surprise, but I note the glimmer in his eyed telling me how much he loves it.
“What’s more wrong is what I’m willing to do to make you put me out of my misery.”
He lets go of the door, causing it to slam shut behind me, and just like that his hands are on me.
Wrapping his hands in my hair, he pulls my head back giving him access to my neck. He runs his nose along the column of my neck, whispering how good I smell and how much he wants to taste me.
He licks and nips his way up my neck and over to my ear.
“You need me to touch you, Halle?” he asks.
I’m so close to begging him that I’m half tempted to climb up his body and wrap my legs around him, just to feel some friction relief.
Pressing my back against the door, I run my hands over his chest again down to where his dick is straining against the front of his pants.
Wrapping my palm around him, he lets out a string of expletives before he grabs my arm and holds it above my head.
“Don’t move,” he says, holding my stare. “Cause I need you just as much as you need me.”
I know Graham would never do anything to hurt me. That thought would never even enter my mind.
“This is about you,” he sighs, running his hands down my arms over my chest. He squeezes my breast over the material of my dress. I can feel my nipples straining against the lace of my bra, begging for him to touch them.
“Where is the zipper?” he asks, as I turn my body to an angle showing him where the zipper is underneath my arm. He slides it down, careful not to ruin the material but urgent enough to not waste any time.
As soon as he sees the lace material of my bra, he whispers “fuck” to himself again before glancing up to look me in the eyes. He knows I wore this for a reason. Even if I told myself I wasn’t going to give into him, there was always the chance that I would.
I knew how much he loved seeing me in lace and I loved seeing the look on his face when he did.
Letting the dress fall to the floor, I watch as Graham’s six-four frame kneels in front of me. Kissing a path over my stomach, down to the apex of my thigh and back up to the lace material of my panties.
His nose grazes a path over the top of my mound and the slightest bit of contact is enough to make my legs feel like jelly beneath me.
The level of care he showed a moment ago is gone now, as he reaches out and rips the material away from my body. My jaw drops, as my panties fall to the floor along with my dress, before my eyes find Graham’s once again. I can’t be mad when I see the look of hunger and desire written on his face.