Page 66 of Just Until Forever
He leans in closer again. My gaze darts nervously around the table, worried one of my colleagues will catch him in the act, but everyone is too distracted by conversation and wine to notice.
“Do you really want me to?” he whispers, breath tickling my skin.
Worth’s eyes travel down to my arm where goosebumps have risen, then lower to my chest, where my nipples peak traitorously against the fabric of my dress. Damn me for skipping a bra tonight.
“I guess I have my answer.” His tone drips with arrogance. The bubble of heat I was suspended in pops, and irritation surges.
The blue collar playboy is back.
“Yes, I mean it,” I snap under my breath. “So, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to enjoy dinner without you breathing down my neck.”
Worth chuckles before lifting his glass. He takes a slow sip of amber liquor, watching me over the rim. “As you wish.”
I force myself to focus on the people around me as dinner continues. On the surface, everything is fine. But I feel Worth’s gaze brushing over me the entire time, even when he converses with the others. It’s unnerving, and yet, deep down, a shameful part of me thrills at it.
When the last plates are cleared, Seraya leans towards me with a grin. “We’re heading to a club. You in?”
My body is heavy with exhaustion, but the thought of going back to the hotel alone, replaying every charged second with Worth, sounds dreadful. “Yeah, I’ll come.”
Across the table, another colleague pipes up, smirking at Worth. “Guess we’ll see you tomorrow then, Mr. Miller. We know clubs aren’t really your thing.”
Worth sets his glass down. “Not tonight,” he says smoothly. “I’ll join you.”
A chorus of surprised sounds follows, but everyone quickly grows excited at the idea of their CEO coming along for a night out.
Several minutes later, we’re making our way through the neon-lit streets of Singapore. We arrive at our destination where a long line snakes outside the poshest club I’ve ever seen. Worth pulls out his phone and fires off a quick text. Within seconds, the doorman says something into his earpiece, his gaze shifting to our group, and he waves us forward.
My coworkers erupt in cheers and high fives, grinning like kids who just snuck into the world’s best amusement park.
Worth shrugs. “I know the owner,” he says simply, holding the door open for us to pass. “W.H.M. built this building.”
When we step inside, Seraya immediately grabs my arm, her voice raised over the music. “This place is insane!” She’s practically glowing, her sequined dress catching every shard of light.
I smile, letting her energy fuel me.
The rest of the team scatters—some heading for the bar, others for the dance floor. Worth lingers near the entrance, scanning the room.
“Come on,” Seraya says, tugging me towards the bar.
Ethan materializes on my other side, leaning in close so I can hear him. “First round’s on me.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “You don’t have to?—”
But he’s already ordering. Three shots of tequila are slid in front of us moments later, salt and lime on the side. Ethan raises his glass in a toast. “To surviving W.H.M. Construction.”
I snort and clink my glass against his. “Barely.”
The tequila burns, but it loosens something in me. Warmth unfurls in my chest, enough to drown out Worth’s earlier words at dinner.
Still, I feel him across the room. His gaze, hot and unrelenting, finds me through the throng of bodies. Even with distance, it feels like static sparking between us, my skin too aware of him.
I turn back to Ethan, who’s already asking me if I want to dance. Seraya wiggles her brows and nudges me forward. “Go. Live a little.”
I let Ethan lead me to the dance floor. The music is loud, bodies packed tight.
Worth is at the edge of the room now, tall and immovable, a drink in his hand. He doesn’t look like he belongs in a place like this. But his eyes are locked on me. Angry. Possessive. Like I’m committing some crime by dancing with a colleague.
My pulse stutters. I’m allowed to dance. I’m allowed to breathe. He has no right to be jealous. I don’t belong to him.
