Consolation Prize (Forbidden Men 9)

As the door opened under her command, she glanced back at me. “What?”

Then she tripped over her sexy high heels.

I shot out a hand and caught her around the waist. But she’d already been overcorrecting herself and came stumbling back my way. So when she careened into me, we both fell backward until my spine smacked into the opened door, and she piled into me, pretty much plastering every lovely curve she owned into the front of my tux.

“Oh God. I’m sorry. I’m so—” She looked up mid-apology, and the words died on her tongue as her gaze delved into mine. “Whoa.”

The intrigued shock on her face compelled me to reach up to sift the backs of my fingers gently across her cheek. “No need to apologize for making a guy’s day complete.”

Damn, she was flawless close up, too. I wanted to lean in and taste her dewy red lips, cup her dark cheek, absorb the warmth from her skin.

But I dropped my hand, worried I’d gone too far. I already had an arm around her waist, holding her up securely, and her breasts were gouging a lovely little nest right into my ribcage. Add that to the flirting and intimate glances, and I wasn’t sure which boundaries I’d crossed.

Up until this point, all the outrageous things I’d said to her had been harmless because I’d never laid a hand on her, and I hadn’t seriously thought us together would ever be a possibility. So the flirting had been more of a joke, even though it had all been true. But honestly, I’d only said most of that shit to get a reaction out of Brandt, and then out of her because later on, after my brother had decided not to go there, I’d gotten too much of a thrill from pissing her off.

But now, after chicken dancing, and talking nightmares, and seeing her smile—at me—I kind of did mean it, like seriously this-could-happen mean it.

It wasn’t just harmless teasing anymore.

Shit had gotten real.

So I held my breath, waiting for her reaction, any kind of green light to let me know whether I could proceed. Because I suddenly wanted to proceed, very, very much.

But she only closed her eyes and shook her head, wavering as if unsteady. “God, what is happening?”

I tightened my grip on her waist, worried she was going to tip over. Then my forehead crinkled into a grimace. Shit. “You’re plastered too, aren’t you?”

Hooking up with drunk chicks was majorly taboo in my book.

That sobered me right up.

I walked us both the rest of the way into the room and shut the door behind us by kicking back my foot, so we could have a private place to cool down before rejoining the wedding reception. Then I glanced around. She’d found us some kind of snug meeting room with an empty conference table in the center surrounded by plush rolling armchairs. A whiteboard wallpapered one wall, while a television screen hung from the other.

A sudden vision flooded my head of laying her out on the glossy, polished tabletop and slipping my hand up the slit in her dress until I found out what kind of panties she was wearing…or if she was wearing panties.

Shit, this was not good. Why did there have to be such a nice, available horizontal space, perfect for hooking up on, so close by?

Julianna blinked her eyes open and tried to focus on me, but her gaze was glassy and dazed. “It didn’t really hit me until I stood up to go to the bathroom. But yeah, I’m more wasted than I thought.”

“Yeah,” I mumbled, blowing out a breath of agreement, because the alcohol had crept up on me too, but mostly because I knew this meant no fun for us.

Damn....it....

I let my hand fall from the curve of her waist, letting her go.

But Julianna didn’t step away from me. If anything she pressed closer and released a breath as if giving in to temptation. Then she lifted up onto her toes so that her breasts slid up my chest.

I inhaled sharply.

“God, you smell good,” she murmured into my ear.

And yep, instant erection. I mean, it was almost painful because of how fast I got hard.

“Julianna,” I tried to caution her, though it sounded more like a breathless plea than a warning.

The tips of my fingers found the bottom edge of her bustier in the back of her dress and bit in at the top swell of her ass. Then I dipped my face next to hers, making our cheeks brush enough that I’m sure she felt the sandpapery texture of my jaw.

She whimpered and shuddered, then ground her pelvis against my hard, aching cock, clutching my shoulders. I gripped her ass harder, unable to stop myself, grinding her slowly into me.