Cavalier (Crimson Elite 1)

Falcon walks away as Creed holds me in one spot. I pull back a mere fraction so I can look up at him, then wrap my hands around his waist as I start to sway us back and forth. He watches me, looking down, his eyelashes fan his face. The length of them makes me jealous.

Doesn’t he have enough luck in the looks department? Add on every woman’s dream—eyelashes too.

“You don’t dance,” I say, as I keep swaying, making his moves blend with mine. He pulls me back to him, so I can feel every inch of him and our bodies are one.

“I don’t dance,” is all he says.

I smirk and thank the alcohol for that. I’m not drunk, but I am well on my way to becoming drunk. Tipsy’s where I am at, so I’m going to stop.

“You’re dancing with me.” I lean my head on his chest. He grips me tighter as we keep moving, his head resting on mine.

“You’re an exception, you seem to be that a lot lately.”

I don’t comment, just stay where I am rocking with him. Not wanting to pull away to break contact with him because Creed is a man who’s very different from any other man. I’ve never met a soul like him.

“I like being that,” I half whisper. He stops moving and I pull back to see what he’s doing. Everyone’s gone from the room leaving just the two of us standing here. He looks over his shoulder then back to me. His arms are still firmly around me.

“You should go home.”

My hands drop from touching him and I take a step back, separating us, so he isn’t touching me. My hand scratches my arm as I look around, before looking back up to him. “What’s the number for a cab?”

Creed shakes his head and that’s when I notice a speck of red on his cheek. Leaning up to wipe it off, he flinches as I touch his face then lets me pull away. He looks at what’s on my finger and walks away, coming back with a wipe.

“Were you bleeding?” I ask him, as he wipes my hand then throws it in the trash.

“I’ll drive,” he says.

“You don’t have your car here.” He grabs whoever’s keys are on the bench then starts toward a car. I look through the door before we leave to say goodbye to the guys, but I don’t see them anywhere. He unlocks the same car we came in, opens my door then walks around to the driver’s side as I get in. No words are spoken, he sits there in silence, something I’m not used to. People around me speak, no one around me or any men I’ve ever been with are like him. Ever. He’s almost impossible to understand. And right now, with these mixed feelings, I really don’t want to deal with it.

Fun time is over.I wake to hands wrapping around me, and the smell that comes to me in my dreams. Snuggling into it, I feel jolted and quickly open my eyes. I’m not dreaming, and arms are really around me, carrying me into my apartment. Creed looks down at me, realizing I’m awake, but doesn’t say a word. I go to make a move to get down, but his grip tightens on me as he walks further into my room, shutting the door behind him.

These men don’t seem to care about personal space, it seems not even warranted in their world.

“I can walk,” I say.

He stops at my bed, placing me down. Looking up at him, I do what I shouldn’t do. What I know I should do is let him walk out that door and not walk back in, become professionals and carry on a boss-employee relationship. That’s fucking hard, especially when he looks the way he does. His cell starts ringing but he makes no move to grab it.

Climbing up on my knees so I’m at the same height as him on my bed, his eyes track me. My hands wrap around his shoulders and I bring his lips to mine. Instead of letting him have the power, I take it back, claiming him. I pull him down with me the minute his lips part and he grants me entry. He falls on top of me, lifting himself up on his hands so he isn’t suffocating me, then he breaks our kiss. The kiss that could have been the kiss of all kisses. No, I lie. Every kiss he gives me is that kiss. His lips are addictive and I’m begging for them to be my next hit.

His hand trails down my side, his eyes never once wandering from my eyes. I shouldn’t be doing this. My head knows it but everywhere else is not listening in the slightest, not when his hands are touching me. His lips come back down, flushing out any worry I might have had, and he takes everything away with his lips. Stealing my thoughts and taking them as his own. I become his plaything, someone who isn’t in control of herself as he pushes up my dress, so the material glides high on my thigh. He pushes it up even higher, not bothering to stop until it reaches my head, and I sit up ever so slightly as he pulls it off my body. I now lay in front of him with only my panties on, as this dress didn’t need a bra.