Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 629(@250wpm)___ 524(@300wpm)
He has to be upstairs, I thought as I gripped the rail, making up my mind.
I doubted Owen was up there sitting alone in a dark corner, repenting his sins. He was either hooking up, snorting something up his nose, or messing around with his frat buddies. Bursting in on him during either of those situations didn’t bode well for me. The guy still wanted my head, and I wasn’t about to fight him when he was high, had backup, or a witness.
I’ll just peek my head in, checking to make sure he’s here and didn’t blow off his own party.
I put my foot on the step. Someone circled my waist and carried me off.
“Dance with me.”
“Hey!” I pounded the arm, bucking to get free. “Put me down!”
Ignoring me, he carried me onto the dance floor—my flailing legs parting the crowd. He put me down in the middle of the circle, and I got a look at my captor.
The rant lodged in my throat.
Rafael Dumont stood before me in all of his glory. Like Katie, he decided he would stand out or he wasn’t coming at all.
Creeping, painted vines climbed his chest, swirling around his nipples to draw my attention there, then disappearing over his shoulder. I tried to keep my eyes on his nipples—it was far less scandalous than drifting lower and—
I flicked down, unable to stop myself. A few big maple leaves hung on a string around his waist—the only thing standing between him and giving the women feasting on him their heart’s desire.
Rafael encircled me before I found my voice, molding me to his bare chest. “On the first day, he created the heavens,” he whispered in my ear. His fingers skimmed my clouds, popped goose bumps on my side, and rested on my hips.
“And he declared it was good.”
Heat melted the flesh off me. I was on fire as he hooked one leg around his thigh, rocking me side to side to the music. It wasn’t a slow song or one that was easy to dance to. Rafael did so all the same.
He rode every beat, chin bobbing against mine as his whole body moved—fingers tapping the rhythm, shoulders rolling, hips thrusting. That those hips happened to be thrusting against my thigh rocketed my pulse into the fainting zone. Katie was fucking right, okay? I was a virgin.
“What are you doing?” I tried to hiss it but the question came out more like a squeak.
“Dancing. What are you doing besides sneaking your hand toward my ass?”
I snatched it up, gripping his shoulders.
“Hey, no one told you to stop.”
I turned my face to his neck, feeling the eyes on us. “Listen, I’m not whoever you think you’re dancing with, so—”
“Sinclair,” he said easily. “You think you can cover yourself in cotton and put some paper mâché on your face and I won’t know it’s you?”
The room spun. I blinked up at Rafael, leg tightening automatically around him as he dipped me low, smirking into my eyes. This close—so very close—I noticed under the crown of leaves on his head, his earbuds were in.
“I’ll always recognize you, Luna.”
I swallowed, fighting to keep my voice even. “That’s not a creepy thing to say. Not at all.”
Chuckling, he lifted me up, spinning me off my feet. “You’ve got dimples and a little beauty mark above your ass. Noticed them the other day. If you were trying to hide, my little crasher, you should’ve covered them up.”
“I do not!” I blurted, sounding stupid because, of course, I did have back dimples and a beauty mark. “And if I do, you’re not supposed to be looking that low.”
“I didn’t look any lower than you.” His mouth twisted into a wicked grin. “I saw you checking out my... leaves.”
“Goodbye.” I slipped out of his hold and marched off, making it two steps before he grasped my elbow and spun me back. I bumped into his hard chest, inhaling his sweet lemony cedar scent.
“Touchy.” Rafael grabbed my hips, grinding them in time with his. “You want to check me out but you don’t want to be called on it. Cool with me as long as it goes both ways. Your ass is looking fine in that bed stuffing, girl. Uh-uh, say nothing. You won’t shame me for my sexuality.”
I snorted—too quick for me to pen it in. “You’re an idiot.”
Grinning, his eyes shone. “Not a very nice thing to say, but not the worst thing I’ve been called.”
“I can manage something nice. You’re a pretty good dancer.”
“I’m an excellent dancer.” He spun me out, but I twirled back in—lacing our fingers as my back pressed against his chest and we swayed. “You know what they say about men who can dance.”
“Stay out of their way because it hurts twice as much when they stomp on your feet?”