Throttled (Dirty Air 1) - Page 67

I’m drunk by 12 a.m. Liam and Sophie dance around together. Both look smashed, Sophie stepping all over his toes with her sneakers, but he takes it like a man, chuckling at her drunken display. Pretty much everyone has let go and is having a good time except Noah. My brother left so I get the all-clear to scoot over to his side of the couch.

“Why are you sober?” I try to pout my numb lips.

“I think I’m going to cool it on the alcohol for a while.”

Right. He and alcohol have a rough history.

My heart thumps in my chest as he smiles down at me. “You have such a good smile. It’s not fair. I want to look that good.” My fingers touch his face, grazing the rough stubble beneath them, imagining how it would feel in other places.

His chest shakes from laughing. “You look even better.” He brushes my hair out of my eyes like a gentleman. His lips brush up against my temple, pressing sweetly before leaving again.

“Your kisses are the best. Like nothing I’ve ever had,” I whisper-shout.

“Oh, tell me more.” He lures me in, wanting to hear my drunk confessions.

I glance around to confirm Santi’s gone. All clear.

“They turn me on. Like a lot.” Killing the sexy game, I think.

But he snickers at me instead of answering.

“What’s so funny? Why are you laughing at me? I’m busy flirting. Hello.” I push at his shoulder to make him stop.

He shoots me a breathtaking smile. My arms cross over my chest, his eyes narrowing as he stares down at my cleavage. I return the favor by checking him out. His messy hair does it for me, a

long with the bow tie he already undid an hour ago. Sigh.

I grin. “Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

He throws his head back and lets out a roar of laughter. I like being funny.

“Should I take that as a yes?” I clap my hands together.

“Sure, Maya. Let’s go. Meet me outside in five minutes.” Noah gets up from the table and says his goodbyes to the group. He acts like an expert at this incognito stuff to the point that someone could think we’d planned it all before.

I scroll through my phone, a hard job when all I want to do is get up and leave with Noah.

I wait for a total of four minutes before making my grand exit. My brother mopes at my departure after I find him schmoozing with sponsors. His sulking looks vaguely like mine, and I don’t like how much I corrupt him.

I check the town car’s license plate like Noah told me to. Numbers blur but it looks about right. My body falls into the bench seat dramatically, my dress swooshing around me as material flies everywhere.

The ride back to the hotel is quick with our driver adjusting his rearview mirror in hopes of sneaking a peek at our heavy petting and toe-curling kisses in the back seat. Noah barks at him to cut it out and to keep his eyes on the road. The older man sputters out an apology, the sound of his mirror returning back to normal making me laugh. At least until Noah shuts me up with more kisses.

I struggle to keep my eyes open by the time we pull into the hotel. Alcohol hits me all at once, my body giving up the battle to stay awake. We both get out of the car at the same time since the hotel looks empty.

Noah practically carries me to the elevators. My feet are finding it difficult to keep up with his pace; they’re dragging behind me as he holds me up.

I’m a giggling mess, but he joins me like a good sport.

It’s all fun and games until he rejects my advances in his room.

“What do you mean, no?” My vision clouds as I take in a blurry Noah, his tux jacket abandoned, and his bow tie lost somewhere in the car ride. He snickers when I stomp my foot for good measure.

“You’re drunk. I don’t want to risk you not remembering the first time I fuck you. I’m a gentleman, meaning I want to fuck you sober.”

“I’ll remember. I promise.” I lift up two fingers like a Scout’s honor. He props up one more to show me how it’s really done.

“What do I know, I wasn’t a Girl Scout.”

Tags: Lauren Asher Dirty Air Romance
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