Cruel Kiss

No Katherine or Whitley in sight.

“Where’s the rest of your quartet?”

English gave me a knowing look. Had Whit told her? She pointed to the dance floor. I found Katherine immediately. She was being twirled around in some kind of salsa like a professional by a local. But Whitley was harder to find, in that she was in a press of bodies at the heart of the dance floor.

Her hair was down. A shimmery dress barely hit mid-thigh. Her body moved effortlessly to the tempo of the Latin music through the speakers. Some guy had his hands on her while a girl pressed her back to Whitley’s chest.

A flare of hot desire shot through me. I wanted to storm over there and steal her away. My hand clenched into a fist. But she didn’t want anyone to find out about us, and she’d said we were just friends. Of course she could dance with anyone at the club. Anyone at all.

I hadn’t expected this flash of jealousy, but I didn’t like to see her out there. I didn’t like it at all.

“Drink?” Court asked.

“Sure. Whatever you’re having.”

I wasn’t going to go over there. I might have been flirty this afternoon at the pool. I mean, she’d said that was what she wanted, but I didn’t have to make it easy for her, did I? Would dancing push it too far?

Court handed me a rum and Coke. It was a local blend and fucking delicious. I’d had it last night too.

“When is Camden showing?”

Court nearly choked on his drink as he pointed out on the dance floor. “Guess he showed up already.”

Camden was staring at Katherine with barely contained control. He was a master of control. So, seeing just a flicker of anything like emotion from him was satisfying. Katherine stilled on the dance floor, and her partner offered her hand to Camden. Yeah, anyone could feel that gaze on them.

Camden tugged her to him with all the dominance he possessed. Katherine, the ice princess herself, actually started to toy with him. Lord help her. She tilted her head to the side, and my eyes widened when, a minute later, they just fucking disappeared.

“Did that just happen?” I asked.

“He’s got game.”

“That is some truce.”

Court shrugged. “One of them is going to blow it soon. You can’t contain that much roiling anger.”

I couldn’t argue with him there.

“Dance with me,” English said, holding her hand out to Court.

He shot me a look. “I’ve been summoned.”

Lark and Sam followed them out onto the dance floor.

There were a dozen beautiful women that I could dance with. Any one of them would probably be happy to go home with me tonight. I could forget Whitley the old-fashioned way.

And yet …

My eyes flickered back to where she now danced exclusively with the woman. Whoever the guy was had disappeared. That didn’t give me any comfort though. I was just as jealous of the beautiful woman in her arms as the guy. She favored them equally.

“Fuck it,” I growled.

We were friends. We’d danced hundreds of times together before we fucked. What was different about tonight?

I downed the rest of my drink and then strode out onto the dance floor. Whitley’s arms were high above her head now. She swayed to the music as the woman in front of her bent forward at the waist.

She jumped at the first touch as I circled her wrists and then dragged my hands down her forearms, over her biceps, and to her shoulders. Her eyes flicked backward in surprise. She looked half-ready to tell whoever it was to disappear.

Then, she saw it was me. “Gavin?”

I brushed my lips against the shell of her ear. “Keep dancing.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue and then snapped it closed. My hands continued their descent over her waist and to her hips. I kept her hips moving in the tempo she’d been going at the second before I interrupted.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said, barely audible over the music.

I jerked her hips backward, harder against me. I was so much taller than her. Even tonight, with four-inch platforms on, she just came up to my shoulder. But that hadn’t been a hindrance last night, and it didn’t have to be right now.

“We’re just dancing,” I told her.

She huffed, giving me a disbelieving look.

“We’ve danced together a hundred times.” I spun her around, drawing her into my arms and stealing her from the woman. “Is this different?”

Her licked a track across her bottom lip. “Just dancing, huh?”

“What else would it be?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things,” she shot my words back at me.

I gave her a devilish grin. “Now, whose mind is in the gutter?”

She pulled back, as if she were going to retreat entirely, but I laughed. I put as much flirty teasing tone into it. I didn’t want to chase her away, but I wanted this dance. I could tell she wanted this dance. She might have said we were just friends, but friends didn’t push you down in a chair to suck you off. They didn’t fuck. They certainly didn’t fall asleep naked in each other’s arms.