By the end, she’s laughing too.
“What?” I grab my ear with two fingers, wiggling it. “I didn’t hear a thing you said after ‘suck my dick.’ Was it anything important?”
Her head shake, smile, and the light in her eyes tells me our foundation just steadied. We’re back to where we were, thankfully. Or mostly, at least, but my family damn near fucked this up for me with their expectations. Haven’t they figured out that I’m not good at meeting those by now?
I glance over and they’re watching us on the dance floor. I sway Erica around so her back is to them and flip them my middle finger, eyeballing each and every one of the nosy, gossipy, intrusive, meddling family members at the table. They smile as if I just told them all ‘thank you.’
“Give it a little extra ‘fuck you’ from me too.” Erica knows exactly what I’m doing, and why. I think she wishes she could tell her family the same thing, probably the same way, knowing her.
Instead, we dance. That moment fades to be replaced by the simple pleasure of holding her in my arms and moving around the floor. I add back in the turns I taught her, catching her and pulling her in tight every once in a while, building a fire between us each time our bodies press together. I pick her up and tilt her back for a dip, which makes her hoot with surprise, and when I stand back upright, she’s high enough on my body that I can kiss her lips easily.
It’s a sweet, quick kiss, but damned if I’m not rock-hard for her. She doesn’t taste like sour cherries the way I thought she would. No, it’s something deeper and more layered, uniquely Erica. And I want more of it, already addicted to her. I let her slide down slowly, enjoying every inch of her against me. When I’m sure her feet are on the floor, I spin her out again, teasing us both, and that fire lights up in her eyes again. “Brody.”
Just my name, but so much in the two syllables. Lust, need, desire, challenge, an order.
I pull her back in, aligning our bodies. I know she can feel that she’s not alone in her current predicament, being in the middle of a dance floor instead of in her bed, my bed, or shit, my truck in the parking lot, for all I care. But I don’t move toward the door. I just keep shifting right and left, and she follows me, damn near trying to melt into each other’s skin through our clothes.
I hear a throat clear behind me, and I open my eyes, already pissed that someone’s interrupting my moment with Erica.
“I hate to do this . . . you have no idea how much . . . but Rix, your phone is laying on the table and it’s blowing up. Somebody named Reed called several times in a row and texted too.” There’s a big question mark in Shay’s tone, asking who the fuck Reed is.
Sweet sister looking out for me when it’s always been the other way around.
“Shit. Fuck. Damn. Something must be wrong at the garage.” Erica’s eyes meet mine. “I need to see what’s up.”
I let her go and she struts to the table, grabbing her phone before heading to the bathroom hallway for a little bit of quiet to make her call.
Shay hisses, “Who’s Reed?”
Slowly and lazily, I cut my eyes back to her. “Her employee at the garage.” Shay relaxes. “And her ex.”
Jaw tight, she hisses again. “Well . . . don’t just stand there, do something.” She flaps her hands around, gesturing me toward the hallway.
What does she expect me to do? Charge back there, take Erica’s phone, and tell Reed not to contact her again? That’d work out pretty shitty when he needed to show up to work on Monday morning. More importantly, that’s not my place. Even if we were something else and I was dropping to my knee—which I’m not—it would be a bitch move to tell your partner who they can and can’t be friends and work with.
“Shayanne, calm your tits. They’re not like that because Erica doesn’t want them to be. And we’re not like that either. Just chill.” She looks at me like I’m stupid, and also, like she’s about to go ten ways of beatdown on me. I bend down, getting in her face so she hears this loud and clear. “Y’all need to slow your roll, because whatever shit show you pulled in the bathroom damn near ran her off. Back off. I’m good.”
She obviously has her doubts but doesn’t get the chance to tell me so because Erica walks up. “I gotta go. Reed’s broke down and I need to get the tow truck so I can get his car to the garage. I’m sorry.”