Page 24 of His Obsession
Gia grins into her drink.
I look back at Val. “Would you like to dance?”
A simple question. Her lips part slightly. Her gaze flicks to Gia, then back to me.
“No,” she says. Definitive.
“Nonsense!” Gia shouts. “I happen to know that Val loves to dance.”
Val closes her eyes briefly. “Traitor.”
I almost smile. “Just one dance. I don’t think it’ll cause the apocalypse.”
She shakes her head. “It might,” she replies.
Gia makes an exasperated sound. “Oh my God. Just dance with him.”
Then she leans toward me with a conspiratorial expression that would be more effective if Val weren’t standing right there. “She’s been talking about you for weeks.”
“Gia!” Val huffs.
I do smile then. Can’t help it. I hold out my hand. For a second, I think she’s going to refuse again. Then something shifts in her face, something akin to resignation. Whatever it is, she sets her glass on the bar and puts her hand in mine.
Gia claps. “Have fun, you two!”
Val glares at her as I lead her to the dance floor. The crowd folds around us in waves of light and sound. It’s not yet packed enough for bodies to press wall to wall, but it’s getting there. The air feels charged, and the music is so loud it’s inside us. I stop near the middle and turn to face her. She’s tense.
“It’s a dance,” I shout over the music.
“It’s not just a dance,” she shouts back.
I rest one hand at her waist and feel her go even stiffer before the rhythm catches her enough that she has to move with me or stand there like a statue.
“Why not?” I ask.
“You know why.”
Talking becomes impossible, so instead I put my hands on her hips and guide her to the beat. She fits against me easily, grinding like she’s been thinking about this exact moment since the first time we met.
This is why it’s a bad idea, I realize. Because she wants this just as badly as I do. Because if we give in, we’re going to hurtsomeone we both care about. Nico isn’t here, though. I’m not going to tell him I’m basically dry-humping his sister on the dance floor, and I know she won’t say anything. If Matteo knows what’s good for him, he’ll keep his mouth shut too.
Her fingers tighten on my shoulder, and the atmosphere between us shifts. A line is about to be crossed, and I won’t cross it unless I’m sure she’s crossing it with me.
I give her another second. Enough room to choose. Enough room to pull away if that’s what she wants. She doesn’t. She just keeps looking at me with those green eyes, which have gone darker in the club lights, full of danger and invitation.
So, I kiss her.
No easing into it. No tentative brush of mouths that leaves room for either of us to pretend later it was accidental or harmless. I know better than to insult what’s been building between us by treading lightly. My hand tightens at her waist as I pull her against me and take her mouth the way I’ve been fantasizing about for weeks.
For one split second, she freezes.
Then she kisses me back. She gives in with a sound so soft I feel it more than hear it, and then her hand is in my hair and her body is flush against mine and every scrap of restraint I walked onto this floor with goes up in smoke. The kiss turns hot almost instantly, all open-mouthed, deep, and hungry in a way that makes the crowded dance floor disappear. I taste whatever she was drinking, something cold and citrus-sharp beneath the sweetness of her mouth.
I angle her slightly, putting my body between hers and the rest of the room on instinct. Her fingers curl harder at the back of myneck. Mine slide up the bare line of her back, feeling the heat of her skin and the tight little shiver that runs through her when I do.
She breaks the kiss first, but only enough to breathe. Her forehead nearly touches mine. I can feel the rush of her breath against my mouth. The room surges around us and all the blurred lights, music, and bodies disappear.
“Tell me to stop,” I say roughly.
