Trapped (Caged 2)

“You can do ballet?” I asked, shocked. She’d never said anything about being a ballet dancer.

She laughed.

“Good grief, no!”

“Then why do you have ballet shoes?”

“They’re ballet flats,” she corrected, as if that was going to mean something to me. “Nobody is going en pointe in these. Besides, they fit in my purse.”

“My boots would fit in your purse,” I mumbled.

“Oh, they would not!”

“Bet they would.”

“You just try it!” she said, but I wasn’t about to take that dare.

“Oh, hell no,” I said. “I might never find them again. I love those boots.”

My head was still just a little bit swimmy. I moved over on the bench seat to get closer to Tria and put my head on her shoulder. Her hand came up to my cheek, and her fingers caressed a rough patch by my jaw. I closed my eyes, breathed in her scent, and tried to keep myself from thinking.

Remembering.

There were other weddings—both for family and friends. Most had been festive and fun even when I was a kid. Of course, back then there weren’t any family black sheep to show up and ruin everything for everyone else.

Not sheep—wolf.

The only wolf in the situation now is you.

I wondered how true that statement might be, and the idea of it pissed me off. I wasn’t the one who started all of this unless I was going to be blamed for being a kid and generally stupid about life.

Maybe I was.

I shook my head. I needed a distraction. Thankfully, the most distracting thing in the world was right next to me. I ran my hand up her leg, playing with the funky material of the more flowing part of Tria’s dress. I was glad it wasn’t one of those with the very form-fitting skirts that were hard to move around. This one slid up pretty easily as I wrapped my fingers around her knee and trailed up the inside of her thigh.

“Liam!” Tria said. Her tone demanded my attention even before she grabbed my hand, halting my path. She turned toward Damon, but I knew he wasn’t going to be looking. I kissed her neck and sucked on the skin below her ear.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” I told her. “When I first saw you, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg you to fuck me there in the foyer.”

Tria’s teeth embedded themselves in her lip as she glanced at me shyly. I wondered if she realized how hot that was. The tips of my fingers traced lightly over the skin of her inner thigh, and I felt her shiver under my touch. She tightened her grip around my hand, but she wasn’t really trying to stop me.

“I only got to fuck you once this morning,” I reminded her. “We’re behind schedule.”

“Not in the back of a car with someone else driving!” Tria whispered harshly.

“Well, you can’t do it in the back of a car when you are driving!” I told her. “That would be dangerous!”

Tria stifled a laugh with her hand, which left my hand free to roam around her thigh some more. With my lips, I followed the contours of her bare shoulder, then back up her throat. My mouth covered hers, and the taste of her brought back the urgency of my need for her. I gripped her thigh with one hand while the other grabbed the back of her head, pulling her closer to me as I devoured her lips and tongue. I finally pulled away when I was starting to run out of breath.

“I need you,” I whispered into her ear. The previous tightness in my chest constricted again, and the words came out strained and a lot more desperate sounding than I intended as the weight of the evening crushed me. “I need to be inside you.”

“Not now,” Tria moaned. The tone of her words wasn’t overly convincing, but I slid my hand back down to her knee anyway.

In my experience, sometimes a woman said no when she meant yes, but it didn’t fucking matter—you stopped anyway. She would always let you know if she didn’t really mean it.

Apparently,

Tria was going to stick with the decision even if she was intrigued by the idea. I thought maybe a slightly different route would be all right and would drive her as crazy as she drove me, so I went back to placing soft, open-mouthed kisses on her shoulder.