Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95421 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 382(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
The song we were swaying to came to an end, and the DJ asked everyone to find their seats. Dawson didn’t loosen his grip.
“Hang on a minute.”
I tipped my head up to look at him.
“Are we still playing a couple? You know, to piss off Emily.”
“Sure. If you want to.”
He slid one hand up my back, then brought it around to cup my cheek. Our faces were so close, his breath tickled my lips. Dawson stroked my cheek with his thumb. “I should probably kiss you then. You know, if she’s watching.”
My eyes slanted to where Emily had been standing. She was now sitting on her date’s lap, busy playing kissy face with him. But when my gaze returned to Dawson, the way he was looking at me took my breath away. He leaned closer, and it felt like we were the only two in the room. “Is she watching?”
I nodded.
He smiled. There was something almost sinister in the way his lips curved at the edges, and it made me wonder if he knew I was full of shit. But before I could debate it too long, he pulled my face to his and kissed me.
It was just a light brush of our lips. Probably enough to make his ex jealous, if she was watching, but definitely not enough to quell the desire I currently felt. I wasn’t sure what the hell came over me—maybe it was the year of celibacy, or maybe it was the glass of wine I’d had a few minutes before we hit the dance floor—but I needed more. And so… I decided to take it. Right here, right now.
My fingers tangled into Dawson’s hair, and I held him to me. Our lips parted, tongues collided, and gentle flew out the window. The kiss quickly grew desperate. Dawson grabbed a thick clump of my hair, and he yanked my head back to gain access to my neck. A moan vibrated between us, and I wasn’t sure if it was me or him. It felt like this man wanted to swallow me whole, and in the moment, I would have let him, even on the dance floor.
I was breathless and woozy by the time our kiss broke. Our chests heaved up and down, and I couldn’t feel my legs. When my hazy vision came into focus, I found Emily watching again. I cleared my throat, but my voice was still small. “She saw.”
A slow smile spread across Dawson’s handsome face. “Who gives a shit? That was for me, not her.”
Chapter 6
* * *
DAWSON
Later that night, after the wedding was over and we were back at the cabin, I came out of the bathroom and found Naomi sitting on the couch. Her hands covered her face and her shoulders shook. Shit. She’s crying.
My gut told me to turn around, go back into the bathroom, and quietly shut the door. I sucked at tears, especially drunk ones, and Naomi was pretty inebriated. But when I looked over a second time, my heart squeezed and I just couldn’t do it. So I took a deep breath and soldiered out to the living room.
“Hey. What’s going on?” I asked in my most gentle voice. “Are you okay?”
She snorted. “My stupid hair.”
“What?”
Tears rolled down her face, smacking into a giant goofy smile. Thank fuck. She wasn’t crying; she was laughing. Naomi spat words out between fits of giggles, so she wasn’t so easy to understand. But I caught the words hair and zipper and managed to put two and two together. Sure enough, I looked behind her and found a clump of her hair stuck in the zipper of her dress. This woman was a complete disaster.
“Are you always this big of a train wreck?”
Her answer was a loud, high-pitched hiccup. We both lost it after that. Tears rolled down my face, and Naomi continued to hiccup between snorts. By the time we were able to control ourselves, there was a streak of black mascara down her cheek.
Without thinking, I wiped it away with my thumb. “Eye makeup,” I said.
But when she looked up at me with her big green eyes, something shifted, and our laughter trailed off. We were sitting so close, I could smell the sweet cream frosting from the wedding cake on her breath. It made me salivate. Naomi’s tongue traced a line along her bottom lip, making it wet and ripe for tasting. But we weren’t at the wedding anymore, amid the safety of two-hundred-and-fifty people looking at the dance floor. We were alone, just the two of us in a house with a bed. And that kiss earlier made me painfully aware that if I started things a second time, there was no way in hell I’d be able to stop. I knew that for a fact, yet I wasn’t sure I cared. A little war raged inside of me, debating whether I should lean in the two inches and say fuck it or get up and put some space between us.