look at her. I wanted so much more. I wanted it all. The way her petite, delicate body had responded to just the inadvertent brush of my arm and then the way her hands felt on my chest…the way my hand on her waist seemed too big but perfect in the dip of the curves she wore, seemingly oblivious to how exquisite they were—how exquisite she was.
God, what I could do to her.
What’s more was the way I’d responded to her. I hadn’t even realized that she was behind me but the moment I turned and my arm made contact with her, the hair at the nape of my neck had bolted to attention, my stomach had flipped and the breath I had been drawing stalled, nearly choking me.
Involuntarily, my right hand covered hers against my chest. My left hand took up residence in the curve of her waist to steady her.
I swallowed hard and felt compelled to touch her again. Very deliberately this time.
Her nipples had tightened to a peak, revealing her interest in my touch. Even if she was unaware of what she wanted, her body knew. My body knew, and damn me all to hell for relishing in that familiar feeling of a craving rooted deep in addiction. That was the way she had made me feel. Like an addict desperate for a taste.
Her mouth was round and full, displaying pouty, pink lips that I instantly wanted to darken with a kiss rough enough to bruise. Her mouth was slightly open, her gray eyes were round with surprise, and I had to wonder if she had been just as shocked as I was at seeing me again and our immediate physical attraction.
My mind instantly wondered what her moan would sound like if I threaded my fingers in that silky looking brown hair, tugged her head back, pressed her sweet little body against the wall right then and took her mouth with mine until I was thoroughly drunk on her and had my fill.
Something told me getting my fill would take some time. I knew better than anyone that I was good at overindulging.
I forced myself to move, allowing her to continue down the hall. The only perk to allowing her to leave without asking for her number was the fact that I got to watch her go. I bit the inside of my bottom lip hard enough to bruise, wishing that it were her lip I was bruising instead of my own. Her backside was just as pleasant as the rest of her.
I had planned on letting her walk out ahead of me and then finding her in the club to strike up a conversation. My lust-drunk brain hadn’t considered that perhaps she was on her way out.
I had looked for her until closing time, which was far longer than I usually stayed. Typically, I came in to check on things. I made my rounds and then left.
Martin lectured me regularly about the dangers of me being in one of my clubs for too long. I was careful to not overextend my stay, but that night I just couldn’t get her off my mind.
Maybe Martin was right about the dangers.
There was no maybe to it. I knew he was right. The risk of being there for very long was too real, and it was enough to paralyze me with anxiety.
Alcohol was not my friend, and I was a disillusioned fool for allowing myself near it for any extended length of time thinking that I was bigger than myself.
History had proven otherwise. But I wasn’t staying put because the allure of a drink was more than I could handle. I was there because the allure of that woman had fully ensnared me. I knew the feeling of being hooked on something all too well and there was no dissuading myself. I knew I had to find out who she was and if she frequented my club. If she did, I planned to sample from whatever she was willing to offer me. Based on what I knew from the gallery where we’d first met, she knew Calvin in some way. If I needed to, I could reach out to him for information, but I’d see what I could come up with on my own before I sought the help of someone that I was affiliated with professionally.
It was an intrusive thing to do, but after she had vanished from the club that I co-owned with Halley, I’d gone right
God, what I could do to her.
What’s more was the way I’d responded to her. I hadn’t even realized that she was behind me but the moment I turned and my arm made contact with her, the hair at the nape of my neck had bolted to attention, my stomach had flipped and the breath I had been drawing stalled, nearly choking me.
Involuntarily, my right hand covered hers against my chest. My left hand took up residence in the curve of her waist to steady her.
I swallowed hard and felt compelled to touch her again. Very deliberately this time.
Her nipples had tightened to a peak, revealing her interest in my touch. Even if she was unaware of what she wanted, her body knew. My body knew, and damn me all to hell for relishing in that familiar feeling of a craving rooted deep in addiction. That was the way she had made me feel. Like an addict desperate for a taste.
Her mouth was round and full, displaying pouty, pink lips that I instantly wanted to darken with a kiss rough enough to bruise. Her mouth was slightly open, her gray eyes were round with surprise, and I had to wonder if she had been just as shocked as I was at seeing me again and our immediate physical attraction.
My mind instantly wondered what her moan would sound like if I threaded my fingers in that silky looking brown hair, tugged her head back, pressed her sweet little body against the wall right then and took her mouth with mine until I was thoroughly drunk on her and had my fill.
Something told me getting my fill would take some time. I knew better than anyone that I was good at overindulging.
I forced myself to move, allowing her to continue down the hall. The only perk to allowing her to leave without asking for her number was the fact that I got to watch her go. I bit the inside of my bottom lip hard enough to bruise, wishing that it were her lip I was bruising instead of my own. Her backside was just as pleasant as the rest of her.
I had planned on letting her walk out ahead of me and then finding her in the club to strike up a conversation. My lust-drunk brain hadn’t considered that perhaps she was on her way out.
I had looked for her until closing time, which was far longer than I usually stayed. Typically, I came in to check on things. I made my rounds and then left.
Martin lectured me regularly about the dangers of me being in one of my clubs for too long. I was careful to not overextend my stay, but that night I just couldn’t get her off my mind.
Maybe Martin was right about the dangers.
There was no maybe to it. I knew he was right. The risk of being there for very long was too real, and it was enough to paralyze me with anxiety.
Alcohol was not my friend, and I was a disillusioned fool for allowing myself near it for any extended length of time thinking that I was bigger than myself.
History had proven otherwise. But I wasn’t staying put because the allure of a drink was more than I could handle. I was there because the allure of that woman had fully ensnared me. I knew the feeling of being hooked on something all too well and there was no dissuading myself. I knew I had to find out who she was and if she frequented my club. If she did, I planned to sample from whatever she was willing to offer me. Based on what I knew from the gallery where we’d first met, she knew Calvin in some way. If I needed to, I could reach out to him for information, but I’d see what I could come up with on my own before I sought the help of someone that I was affiliated with professionally.
It was an intrusive thing to do, but after she had vanished from the club that I co-owned with Halley, I’d gone right
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