Page 11 of Ruthless Touch

The song that’s playing is an infectious R&B track remixed with synth layers and a baseline that thumps like a second heartbeat.

As we step onto the dance floor, the music wraps around us like a living thing.

I pull Jamie closer until there’s little to no space between our bodies. Her hand slides up to rest against my chest, the heat of her palm penetrating my shirt, burning my skin like a brand.

She’s pure temptation in how she moves.

Her hips sway in perfect sync with the beat. The crop top she’s wearing hugs every curve of her torso, leaving a tantalizing strip of smooth brown skin exposed between its fabric and the waistband of her wrap skirt. Both cling to her body in a way that’s sinful.

Every fluid roll of her hips I catch a glimpse of that bare skin, and it takes every ounce of self-control I’ve got not to let my hands wander more than they already have.

Her gaze never leaves mine as we move together, dark and hypnotic under the strobing lights.

There’s something almost predatory in the way she not only dances, but in how she watches me as we do—almost like she’s studying every reaction, cataloging every breath I take.

When she turns in my arms, pressing her back against my chest, the subtle scent of her perfume lingers in the air and teases my hunger.

I lean in, letting my mouth hover by her ear. Just close enough to feel her shiver against me.

The tension between us is thick and full of possibility. I know she feels it too.

She rolls her hips against me, the direct contact sending fire shooting through my veins.

Around us, other bodies blur in the background. I can feel eyes on us—jealous, curious, maybe even a little in awe—but I don’t give a fuck.

They’re not lucky enough to dance with her; they’re not the ones feeling the way her ass presses up against my groin.

My hand rests at the soft dip of her waist, then slides around to her stomach. She leans into the touch like she wants more.

The way she arches against me, the way her long braids sway as we move, even how she turns her head slightly as if glancing over her shoulder—all of it drives me crazy.

My lips brush her ear, and she takes in another sharp breath.

She spins back to face me, so close our noses almost touch.

The heat between us has reached a boiling point. We’re no longer holding back. We’re drawn to each other as my hands tighten on her waist and she parts her lips. I bow my head and hover my mouth over hers, our bodies grinding to the beat.

Adrenaline surges through me. It’s the thrill of what’s to come. The sense of triumph because I’ve lured the feline and now I’m about to go in for the kill.

I press my lips to hers as the music continues to pulse around us.

The moment our mouths connect, it’s like a match struck in gasoline—everything ignites at once. Her lips are impossibly warm and soft against mine. She tastes sweet and rich like the plums she was drinking, so fucking tasty and flavorful that I immediately crave more.

Jamie has abandoned any coy act. Her mouth opens against mine with a hunger that matches my own.

I introduce some tongue, playful even in our kiss, and she once again matches me. Her tongue brushes mine, and the warm, wet feeling ignites more fire inside me.

More intense hunger for her.

I’ve got to have this woman tonight.

Right now.

The kiss deepens as she fists my shirt and pulls me even firmer against her. We’ve become those people openly making out on the dance floor, and neither of us gives a fuck.

I plunder her mouth, drawing a soft moan from her. The sound is so real and honest it finally pushes me over the edge.

I pull away, lungs heaving for air and the rest of my body buzzing with wild, feral energy.