CHAPTER FOURTEEN

DOMINIC

Avery's dancing with a man I"ve never seen before.

They shuffle across the dance floor as he makes her laugh. Her curls are subdued and pulled back on either side of her head, her rosy cheeks glowing beneath the soft lighting. I down more of my whiskey and continue to stare.

I look like a stalker, but hell… This guy is dancing with my woman.

I haven't kissed Avery since that afternoon when she cleaned out the office, and it's been torture. We"ve spent a considerable amount of time shopping and working out plans for the space, but she"s kept it strictly professional. Holding me at a distance except for when her guard was down during her period.

That wall she"s erected needs to fall before I throw her over my shoulder and haul her back to my home like a damn caveman.

When the song ends, Avery and the man part ways, allowing me to breathe a little easier. She makes her way to the bar, so I casually ask for another whiskey to look as if I hadn"t been about to go Neanderthal on her curvy little ass.

"Hey." Her elbow nudges my side as she asks for the event's signature drink: The Bee's Knees, gin with honey and lemon. Avery's sweet scent drifts over to me, and I inhale deeply. A mix of coconut and vanilla—exotic yet familiar.

I return her greeting and try to tame the hard-on pressing against my zipper. Her pink dress is killing me with every flirty swish against my leg, and despite the modest neckline, her breasts rise slightly over the top. It's sexy and adorable and obliterates all rational thoughts from my brain.

Avery clears her throat, and my gaze lifts to see her features scrunched into a questioning expression.

"I asked if you wanted to dance? You"ve been alone over here for who knows how long when you should be enjoying tonight. It"s not like these things happen very often."

I'm glad they don"t occur more than a couple times a year. They"re a bore when the purpose is fun versus business-related. Frankly, the informative lectures are more my style.

"No, thanks." I'm not much of a dancer and don"t feel like embarrassing myself in front of all these people and Avery, but she grabs my hand anyway.

"I"m not taking no for an answer." Surprise, surprise. Her stubbornness knows no bounds, yet she says I'm the one who railroads people. "Besides, I"m doing you a favor. You need to loosen up."

A fast-paced song from the eighties plays loudly over the speakers. "Come on!" Avery steps side to side as if trying to teach me how to move, but I cross my arms and refuse to wiggle, gyrate, or shake anything to the tune of a Whitney Houston melody.

Pouting, Avery drops the lesson with a mock growl. "Fine, be that way. But don't think that's gonna stop me." Her body undulates more freely, and she shoots a coy look over her shoulder as she twirls in front of me like a pretty fairy straight from A Midsummer Night's Dream.

My blood heats at her teasing. Every so often, she inches close enough to touch then jumps out of reach before I can capture her. It's a game, and Avery thinks she's going to win.

She's dead fucking wrong.