Page 18 of Disavowed

“Fuck. Me.” He shoved his empty glass into Gray’s hand and lit out for the dance floor, limping. Gray’s snort of laughter followed him.

When he caught up with Daisy, he tapped the guy on the shoulder. “Mind if I cut in?” Not that he gave a shit if wimp-ass did mind, but he had to give his competition the chance to bow out gracefully.

Competition?

Fuck, no. I am not making a play for her.

This guy was all wrong for Daisy, and if she couldn’t see that, he’d be the one to educate her. She deserved better.

At first the guy looked surprised, his eyebrows rising practically to his hairline. Then the look of annoyance on his face was priceless as he pursed his thin lips and took Dom in, and at about five foot ten he had to look up to do it.

Daisy crossed her arms, glaring at him. The motion pushed her breasts up, making them mound delectably above the pink cups of her dress. And Dom nearly choked. Her breasts were beautiful. He knew that firsthand.

He shook his head to clear it of the vivid memory, then grinned, turning his attention to her face. He could practically feel her irritation spearing him like tiny hot pokers jabbing at his flesh. “Well, sweetheart? You promised me another dance.”

“I most certainly did not.” She uncrossed her arms and fisted her hands at her sides.

God, he really did love her spunk.

“Andrew?” She lifted her arms, clearly intending to link them around Andrew’s neck.

Dom slipped between them, put his hands at Daisy’s waist, and whisked her away. As he spun her around, he caught sight of Andrew’s bewildered look and grinned.

“That was incredibly rude,” she said as the band began playing “Hungry Eyes.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Not that he gave a shit. He smiled broadly as he caught sight of Andrew stalking off the dance floor. Outside of the job, he didn’t normally use his size to intimidate someone, but seeing that guy touching Daisy’s bare skin made his brain do the Jekyll and Hyde thing and turn downright devious. “I thought your snobby date was about to cry.”

“He’s not a snob, and he’s not my date.” The corners of her mouth lifted slightly. “Although he did kinda look like he was about to lose it.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Dom admitted. “If you were my date and anyone stole you from me, I’d probably lose it, too.” As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them.

“That would never happen.” She gave him a frosty look, and he glimpsed flecks of gold in her eyes that he’d forgotten about. “Because I’m not yours and never will be.”

True. But hearing her voice the words had his body tightening with something like…disappointment. Because she had been his. Once. For one beautiful night his hands had slid a slow, sensual path up her rib cage to her breasts and nipples, down her belly and lower. He’d spread her thighs, using his thumbs to part her slick folds. Then he’d lowered his head to her and tasted heaven.

The torturous back and forth, bump and grind of the song’s sensual rhythm had Daisy’s hips in constant contact with his semi-erection, and it was driving him up the fucking wall. If the song didn’t change soon he’d be sporting a tree trunk between his legs.

Speaking of woodies…

“Who is the stiff?” Dom jerked his head to where Andrew sat at a table, eyeing him with undisguised annoyance.

“Andrew Foust. He’s the general manager of the Piazza Hotel.” She lifted her chin, as if she was actually proud of the guy. “He awarded me the floral contract for the hotel when it reopens.”

“Ah, I see.” Dom nodded. Everyone in New York City knew about the Piazza renovation project. “And now he expects something in return.” What that something obviously was brought with it a bout of jealousy he had no right feeling.

“He’s not like that.” She pushed at his shoulders, trying to put more distance between them, but he wouldn’t let her.

“Is he gay?” He raised his brows.

“No, he’s not gay.” She sent him a sharp look. “He’s a fascinating man whom I like very much. He’s intelligent, well-read, and a witty conversationalist. And he’s very progressive. He’s an environmentalist and is trying to make the hotel as green as possible. He even owns an electric car so that he leaves as small a carbon footprint on the earth as possible.”

“Carbon footprint, huh?” He caught Andrew following their every step and intentionally led Daisy closer so he could stare back at the guy. As their gazes met over her shoulder, he said half under his breath, “How ’bout I ram my carbon footprint up his ass?”

To his surprise, Daisy giggled. The sound was like sunshine to his ears, and he found himself laughing with her.

The music stopped and the emcee announced dinner was about to be served. Guests started returning to their seats. They remained in the middle of the dance floor, her arms still linked around his neck. Their bodies pressed together intimately.

When he looked down into her eyes, she literally stole his breath. He couldn’t move, and he couldn’t breathe. He just stared, taking in every nuance of her face. He loved the way the flecks in her eyes sparkled like gold diamonds. Knowing he shouldn’t, he reached out to slide one of the soft, silky, chestnut brown tendrils between his fingers. She shivered as his thumb grazed her cheek. Awareness flickered in her gaze, and she swallowed.