16

Will could only stare. Mira might be drunk. Well, maybe not drunk but definitely a little buzzed. That was the only explanation. She was dancing . Mira. Out there in the crush of people on the dance floor, head thrown back, eyes closed, arms in the air, absolutely lost in the music. He couldn’t look away if he tried, and he wasn’t trying.

He wanted her, with an intensity that shocked him. The pulse of the music, the pulse of his blood, the pulse of his need had all mixed into one throbbing beat.

He imagined those bare arms wrapped around his shoulders, and those thighs wrapped around his hips. He imagined the lacy black bra barely covered up by that thin white tank and her breasts underneath it, and imagined his hands and mouth on them. And he imagined digging his fingers into that goddamned unbelievable hair as he kissed her, pushed her down, covered her body with his own. He’d never guessed that when she finally unleashed her hair from that ponytail, it would be this—a long, gorgeous tumble of messy blond curls that made her look as if she’d just climbed out of bed after a really good shag.

Before he knew what he was doing, he’d ditched his beer and followed her out into the crush of bodies. Immediately they were surrounded, pressed in on all sides, jostled up against each other.

She glanced back over her shoulder and when she registered it was him, she smiled and closed her eyes again, falling back into the music. Someone bumped into him from behind and he reached out for her, hands finding her hips, to steady himself. And when he’d gotten his balance back, he kept his hands on her, not grasping, just touching. She didn’t shake him off. Every time the crowd swayed, so did she, up against him, into him, until his arms were nearly around her, her hair tickling his chin, her scent drifting up every time he inhaled. When he lowered his head, resting his temple against hers, he felt her slow, easy surrender, her body going boneless against his. There was the invitation he’d been hoping for.

The song kept spiraling, the heavy beat growing louder as they swayed to it together. He gave her the gentlest nudge to spin her around. She was facing him now, just inches between them. Her face was bathed in blue light, her hair a glowing halo around her. Her lashes fluttered upward until those big eyes were looking into his, glittering under the lights.

Everything that happened next felt inevitable, like he was just a comet orbiting her, drawn inexorably in by her gravity. His hands came up, cradling her face, so small compared to the span of his fingers. As his head lowered, her eyes slid closed again. He paused, just the length of a breath, savoring the moment, and then he pressed his mouth to hers. It felt like there was nowhere else on earth he was supposed to be. Right here, right now, in the light and the music, kissing this girl. Nothing had felt this right since the first time he’d gotten behind the wheel to drive. He could feel it happening, like something locking into place in his heart. He was falling for this girl like he’d fallen for racing: hard, fast, and irrevocably.

When he opened his mouth over hers, she let him in, and he sank into the perfection of her lips, her tongue. Every fantasy he’d entertained about her paled in comparison to the reality of her. Kissing someone had never felt so good, so intense. Maybe it was because he’d wanted her for what felt like forever.

Her hands danced up his arms, and then slid over his shoulders, finding their way into his hair. The scrape of nails against his scalp sent shock waves of pleasure down his spine. He slid a hand down her back, molding her body to his, finding her hip, pulling her even closer, until it seemed like he could feel her heart thumping against his chest in time with the music. Hips to hips, her tongue sliding against his, he felt himself grow hard. Even through the relentless pounding of the music, her ragged breath mingled with his own heartbeat and echoed in his ears.

His hand slid back into her gorgeous hair and fisted it, so soft around his fingers, just like he’d imagined. Mira moaned into his mouth, a soft, low sound of surrender that made him nearly lose his mind.

When they finally broke apart, her hands were still gripping his shoulders and his arms were still wrapped around her, their foreheads touching.

Reaching up to cradle her face in his palm, he rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. “I’ll get us a cab, okay?” They needed to be out of this hot, crowded bar.

He ducked his head to the side, kissing her cheek, the side of her neck, the edge of her ear. “I want you so much,” he whispered into her ear. “Come home with me.”

When he lifted his head, her eyes were closed, brows furrowed. Then her fingers released their grip on his shoulders. Gently, she pushed back. A sliver of air slipped between them. “No … I …”

“Mira …”

She pushed against him harder and he released her. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have …”

When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, she looked on the verge of tears. His desire curdled into guilt. Was she drunker than he thought? Had he just taken advantage of her when she was too impaired to stop him?

“Hey, what’s wrong? Talk to me.” He reached for her, taking her gently by the shoulders, attempting to draw her back to him.

As she swatted his hands away, the tears spilled over. “I need to go to the restroom.”

She shoved away from him and pushed her way through the crowd, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the dance floor feeling like a massive arse.