Until April (Until Her 6)

“Neither, I’m here with a friend.” I don’t point out that I’m not dressed for a wedding.

“Cool. Do you and your friend want to come party with me and my friends?”

“She doesn’t.”

I look at Maxim as he slides my glass of wine into my hand and start to smile up at him, then notice his lips are pressed into a firm, straight line.

“Oh.” The guy looks between us. “That’s cool. Night.”

“Night,” I say as he walks off, then focus on the man at my side. “It’s a little crowded down here.”

“We’ll go to my room, if that’s okay with you?”

I look around, not sure that going up to his room is smart—actually I know it’s not—but there is really no place for us to sit down here. “All right, sure,” I agree after a moment and he takes my wrist and leads the way to a second elevator that is less crowded than the one near the front entrance of the hotel. We get inside alone, and my heart trips all over itself as he presses the button for his floor.

When we reach his room, he lets us inside, and I take a sip of wine, then slip off my shoes and take off my jacket, resting it on the back of the couch. The room is large enough for an entire family, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the square footage matched that of my house.

“This is really nice.”

He doesn’t even look around. His attention is solely focused on me, making me feel hot and anxious and very aware that I’m alone with a man I hardly know, with a bed just a room away. “It is.” He waits until I take a seat, then comes to sit next to me. “Who was the man at the bar?”

“I don’t know. Just some drunk guy here for the wedding.”

“Not him, the one who made you look like you saw a ghost.”

Realizing he’s talking about Brock, I shrug. “Just someone I used to know.” He lifts his chin ever so slightly, then takes a sip from his glass as he studies me.

“Are you hungry?” The question seems innocent enough, but the way he asks and is looking at me is anything but.

“No.”

“Do I make you nervous?”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “Are we playing twenty questions?”

“Do I?”

“No,” I lie.

“Then come here.” There is no denying the command in his tone or the way my pulse flutters from the heated look in his gaze.

“If I get any closer, I’ll be sitting in your lap,” I point out, glancing at the small space between us.

“Would that be a problem?” His challenge-filled eyes lock with mine. Acting braver than I feel, I carefully move closer to him.

“Better?”

“For now.” His hand comes up, and he wraps a strand of my hair around his finger. “You know, Kenton warned me away from you.”

“What?” I laugh, sure that I heard him wrong.

“He said I needed to keep things between us professional.”

“He didn’t.” I take a sip of wine, wondering if he can see my pulse racing.

“He did.” His finger trails down the side of my neck, and goose bumps break out across my skin. “Then again, it’s not the first time he warned me away from you.”

“He told you to stay away from me before?”

“Him and my dad both did.” He grins. “But you’re not sixteen anymore, and I sure as fuck am not a kid.”

He’s not wrong there. My eyes roam over him as I take another sip of wine. “You were my first kiss.”

“I guessed that.”

“Hey, don’t be rude.” I frown at him and he chuckles.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t a great fucking kiss.”

“Honestly I don’t even remember it,” I lie.

“You don’t?” His hand slides to wrap around the back of my neck and I bite my lip while my stomach dances and his eyes lock with mine.

“You still have the prettiest mouth I’ve ever seen.” His thumb slides forward along my jaw, then the pad of it snags on my bottom lip. “Has anyone ever told you how pretty it is?”

“It’s been mentioned a time or two,” I say, and he makes a noise deep in the back of his throat right before he leans forward to nip my bottom lip almost punishingly, causing me to gasp and my core to clench.

“Finish your drink,” he orders, pulling away from me.

I do. In one gulp, I down the rest of my wine while he watches, and as soon as my glass is empty, he takes it from me, then leans forward to set it on the table, doing the same with his glass that was resting on the arm of the couch. When he leans back, he tugs me over to straddle his lap, resting my thighs on the outside of his. I rest my hands against his chest as his go to my ass, and I’m not sure if it’s the wine, but my flesh warms as he leans up to nip my bottom lip.