Page 31

I wrap my leg around his waist as his hand creeps higher, slipping under the fabric of my dress.

He curses as he reaches my ass, making me smile.

“I fucking knew it,” he groans. “Did you do this to torture me?”

“Do what?” I ask breathlessly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about. I’d purposely gone without underwear tonight. It wasn’t just because I knew the tight-fitting fabric would show my panty line—I also knew it would show my lack of one.

His hand explores higher, proving his point. “What was your plan here, sweetheart? Forgetting your panties at home. Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” he growls, dropping his lips to my ear, his breath hot on my neck. “I noticed. Everyone at this fucking party knows you aren’t wearing anything under this dress.”

Heat rushes to my cheeks. While I wanted him to notice, I didn’t realize anyone else would be looking at me that closely.

“I had to.” I whisper. “No matter what I tried to wear, there was a line. Plus, torturing you would mean you care, wouldn’t it?” I run my hands through his hair as he runs his nose along the length of my neck. “I thought this was fake.”

For once, I don’t want it to be. I wish this could be real. That I could do what I want to him, right here, right now. I wish I was the type of woman he would seek out and choose to have on his arm.

Hell, I wish I was a woman that didn’t care.

“Not everything is fake, Dakota.” He grinds his hardening length against me, proving his point.

I groan as I roll my hips against him.

“I want you, Dakota. You don’t have to fight this.”

His hot breath on my neck mixes with our bodies moving against each other, making it impossible for me to form any rational thoughts. “Chance…I…wait.” I push against him. He lets me have a little space, but not too much.

“What are you waiting for, Dakota? You want this. I know you do.”

“I do. No, I don’t. I can’t think!”

I need air. Space. A drink. Something to help me clear my head.

There’s something about being in close proximity to Chance that makes my mind run in overdrive. I seem to forget the rules I set in place to avoid getting hurt—like I know he will do to me.

I know he has the ability to hurt me worse than Laughlin ever did.

“So don’t think,” he continues, bringing his hand up and taking out the pins in my hair one-by-one, throwing them to the ground. “You think too much.”

I want to give in, let him have me.

With my hair now free, his hands are free to trail along my shoulders, down my arms and along my sides. His hands on my body feel just as good as I imagined. No, better.

My hair brushes along my back, electrifying my already oversensitive skin. I want to do anything that will keep his hands on me. Keep his soft kisses grazing my collarbone the way they are right now. Keep the stubble from his chin leaving a delicious burn in its wake.

Can I do this? I know we have an end date. I know not to get emotionally involved.

But I also know it’s too late. I’m already emotionally involved, or at least, mostly on my way there.

What really scares me, though, is that I’m on the verge of not caring. I’m ready to throw away every rule and worry I’ve ever had to spend tonight with Chance. I’m willing to throw myself at him just for a night to know what it’s like to have Chance Declan. Have all of him.

“Help me not to think, Chance.” I moan as he kisses the crook of my neck. “I’d give anything not to think.”

“That can be arranged,” Chance growls before sliding his arm behind my knees, another behind my back, and carries me out of the room.

I let out a small squeak as I throw my arms around his neck, holding on to him as the lifeline that he is.

I’m breaking all my rules. I’m doing everything I told Addie I wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t get emotionally involved. I wouldn’t sleep with him. I wouldn’t fall for him.

Anxiety should be filling my body with every step he carries me, but it’s not. It’s as if every step leaves another worry—another concern—farther behind. Instead, all I feel is excitement and heat. Yearning. Desire.