Sarah had to admit it was kind of exciting watching Falon pick that man up off the ground. The rigid set of his shoulders and the way the muscles bunched in his square jaw as he attempted to grind his teeth into dust was flattering. Mildly. It was mildly flattering. She didn’t need a man running to her rescue. She had been taking care of herself for a long time now and she didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon because Falon Wolfe got it in his head that she was helpless. Watching him cut through the crowd she vowed to let him know exactly where he could put his misogynistic attitude.
“We’re done here,” Falon growled when he reached her side. She looked over at Marcy for assistance with Falon only to find the woman practically fanning herself. No help there then.
When Falon began to lead her in the direction of the doors much like he had McGrabby, she dug in her heels. There was no way she was going to let him dictate when her night was over. It didn’t matter that she had spent the last hour wishing she were anywhere but sandwiched between Marcy and the wall of writhing bodies on the dance floor.
The whole point of the night was to get him riled up and every time she had caught sight of him he looked as cool as ever nursing a drink and scanning the crowd. She felt defeated when Marcy dragged her to the ladies’ room. Then the whole ass-grabbing incident happened and now here she was facing the wall of Falon’s ice-cold control yet again. She pulled back on her arm. She wasn’t going give up without a fight.
When he spun around to see what the holdup was the music changed, giving her a wonderful idea. She let a sly, secretive smile pull at the corners of her lips as she stepped closer to his broad chest. Stopping only a fraction of an inch from touching him, she took satisfaction when his nostrils flared and his body stiffened further. Not as in control as he would like to think it would seem. Tilting her head back to meet his eyes, she leaned in a little further.
“Dance with me,” she whispered as close to his ear as their height difference and his stiff posture would allow. She wasn’t sure he heard her and was about to issue her request a little louder when he suddenly started pulling her in the opposite direction, straight to the slowly swaying bodies on the dance floor.
When Falon pulled her body close to his, she began to question the intelligence of this plan. Her rebellious body thrilled at the chest to knee contact with the hard contours of his. She found herself fighting a losing battle to mold herself further into his embrace. The feel of his body against hers felt so right that she had to shake her head to dislodge the rioting images of just how right his body was. When he placed his warm hand on the exposed small of her back, Sarah was sure he could feel her heart hammering to escape the prison of her ribcage.
Unsure what to do with her arms Sarah placed them on his broad shoulders. Sure, she had suggested they dance but she hadn’t planned on it feeling like high school prom all over again. She was trying to blow his mind and all she could come up with was adolescent awkward. He ran a hand up her spin and stopped it between her should blades effectively trapping her in his arms and forcing her closer. Apparently he skipped the awkward phase. With no other option, she linked her arms around his neck and held on as he began to gracefully sway them around the floor.
After a moment of silence, Falon slowly dipped his head as if to nuzzle her neck. Sarah’s treacherous body responded like the wanton creature it was turning out to be, and she found herself tilting her head in anticipation.
“Just what the hell do you think you’re up to?” His harsh whisper shattered any delicious idea of him nibbling his way up her neck to her awaiting lips. Startled out of her body’s overheated reaction to his closeness, she could only look up at him in mute confusion.
“Don’t give me that deer-in-the-headlights look. I know what you’re up to and it’s not going to work.” He stared at her for a moment before begrudgingly adding, “No matter how sexy you look.”
He thought she was sexy? She’d had the idea that he liked the way she looked tonight, but his behavior at the club had given her doubts. Narrowing her eyes, she looked back up at the man who spoke so fiercely yet held onto her like she was a precious treasure that he was worried would break if he held on to tightly.
“I don’t believe I know what you’re talking about.” She smirked at his shocked expression. Did he really believe that a few harsh words in her ear and she would spill her guts? The man had a serious problem underestimating her and she was not above using that to her advantage. He growled in response and the guttural, masculine sound pushed her desire from a slow simmer to a raging boil. Maybe there was something to this caveman thing after all.
After three tense minutes of Falon’s body slowly sliding against hers, she nearly jumped at the offer of drinks. He made sure to keep a hand securely on the small of her back and she didn’t know whether it was just gentlemanly behavior or if the man was deliberately trying to drive her crazy with lust. The quicksilver gleam of mischief in his eyes had her betting on the latter. She definitely needed that drink. The stronger, the better.
Slamming back the shot of tequila she ordered the second Falon excused himself to use the restroom, she shuddered as the heat of the alcohol burned through her system. A few more of these and her over-sensitive body wouldn’t be able to feel anything, let alone the urgent need to be in Falon’s arms, sans clothes.
“Whoa, slow down there,” Marcy said as she shook her head at the bartender when she tried to order another shot. “I thought you didn’t drink.”
“I don’t.”
“Then what’s the occasion?” Marcy asked looking her over.
“It’s a long story,” Sarah answered, leaning heavily on the bar. Apparently someone who doesn’t drink shouldn’t take two straight shots of top shelf tequila and expect to walk away unscathed. She felt Marcy’s eyes on her and fought the need to fidget. The woman had a way of putting her on the spot and forcing the truth from her. Sometimes she hated that about her.
“He’s the one isn’t he.” Not a question. Marcy’s statement had her whipping her head up. A move she instantly regretted as it caused the whole room to tip precariously to one side. Stabilizing herself with a death grip on the bar, she narrowed her eyes.
“I don’t know what you’re—”
“Oh save it. I know all about the guy who hurt you in college.” Holding up a stalling hand when Marcy saw she was about to argue she continued. “You didn’t have to say anything. I may not know the details but I know the signs and you, my dear, have them all.”
She had signs? What was that supposed to mean? Either the tequila was interfering with her thought process or Marcy was speaking in code. Probably fifty-fifty, she mused as the room tried to pirouette again.
“I don’t know what he did, or when, but you need to be careful that he doesn’t do it again. Falon Wolfe may be the hottest thing to walk into our agency in a long time, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let him walk all over you.”
Sarah felt her chest tighten. She knew that Marcy thought of her as a friend, but she didn’t think the other woman cared that much.
“Don’t worry about me Marcy, I’m just going to teach him a lesson.”
Marcy studied her with worried eyes for a moment before giving her a reluctant nod.
“Just promise me you’ll be careful.”
“Always.”
“And I want the details.” Marcy winked and suddenly the mood was light again.