Darkly (Follow Me 4)

I can’t help an assessing gaze. That dress is even more amazing up close. It was made to form fit her body. A fine silver chain sparkles around her throat.

I imagine, for a moment, that she’s wearing my collar. That she’s mine—body, heart, and soul—for safekeeping, always and forever.

I drop my gaze down her bare legs to her strappy silver sandals, her pretty toenails painted bright red.

Fuck it all.

I raise my head and meet her glaring eyes. She asked me a question. What are you doing here?

“Keeping you from getting yourself into trouble,” I say without apology.

Peter goes rigid next to her. “Nice meeting you, Skye,” he says, turning.

“Wait! Aren’t we going to dance?”

“Another time.” He disappears onto the dance floor.

Good. Let him go. She’s way too good for him. I’ve heard rumors about Reardon Brothers. Rumors I’m definitely going to look into now.

“Come with me.” I pull her out of the ballroom, through the hallway, to the hotel lobby, her heels clacking on the marble floor as she runs to keep up.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping you from sneaking into someone else’s bed.”

“Seriously?” she huffs.

“You’ve been drinking.”

“You don’t know anything about me. I’m not drunk. I never get drunk. And I can sleep with whomever I want. How did you find me anyway?”

I pull my phone out of my pocket. “Instagram.”

“I’m going back in,” she says, hands on her hips.

“Not without me.”

“Do you even have a ticket to this event?”

“Do you think I need a ticket?”

She shakes her head. “Fine, come along, then. I can’t leave Tessa in there alone.”

Tessa? Ah, the bestie. @tessalolita

“Tessa’s a big girl. She can take care of herself.”

“Interesting take. Tessa’s my age, Braden, and you obviously don’t think I can take care of myself.”

“Not true. I didn’t show up because you can’t take care of yourself. I showed up to keep you out of someone else’s bed.”

She shakes her head. “You’re unbelievable. What makes you think I’d end up in someone’s bed?”

“Look at you. You’re beautiful with a killer body. Damn, that dress…”

She taps her foot and scoffs. “Please…”

“Do you really not see yourself the way I see you?” I cup her cheek. “Your hair is the color of roasted chestnuts, your eyes the warmest brown I’ve ever seen. Your skin is like the richest cream, and God, Skye, your mouth…” I inhale, willing my cock to behave itself. “Your lips are pink and plump and heart-shaped, and fuck, I can’t leave them alone. I’ve never seen a mouth like yours. The way your lips are always slightly parted drives me wild.”