“Melissa,” I squeak. Yes . . . I squeak. The games are over now; this is too raw.
“Alright, Melissa,” he croons; my name curling around his tongue sends tingles across every inch of skin. “Let’s start over, hmm?”
I stare at this gorgeous man and nod my head like an idiot.
“Name’s Greg Cage. Most of my friends call me Greg, some call me Cage, but you can call me whatever you want.”
Really? Is he for real right now?
“Does that line ever work for you? And why would I call you Cage? Sounds like something you stuff a rabid animal in.” His eyes widen slightly before his rich laughter rings out around me. I’m sure I look like a crazy woman with the smile that takes over my face. Even I can tell it’s a bit too happy. Good Lord, he really is good looking.
“Damn babe, you’re either a lesbian or you just like chomping my balls.” He shakes his head, still letting out a few soft manly laughs. “Beauty, you can call me whatever you want as long as you’re screaming it.”
Before I can even process his actions, he bends down and gives me a quick but deep kiss. When he pulls back and rests his forehead against mine, I know I might as well have just signed on the dotted line. The look he gives me is so full of promise that if I had been wearing underwear, they would have blown up, completely exploded, right from my skin.
“Come home with me.” I blurt.
He seems to ponder that for a minute before a feral smile graces his lips. He knows he won this round. I might be giving in to the sparks flying around us, but this was just going to be sex. Nothing more.
“Tell you what, let me finish up around here, and then we can go back to my place.”
“I’m not riding with you. I want my car there, just in case,” I mumble the end of that, but he doesn’t miss it. His eyes flash and his smile slips slightly.
Way to go Melissa, might as well take out an ad that lists all the issues you have.
“That’s fine, but I can assure you that you won’t want to leave for a long fucking while.”
“Just sex?” I ask. No reason to beat around the bush now.
“For now.” He takes my hand in his and leads me off the dance floor and back to the bar where we left our drinks. “Here’s to living,” he says and holds his beer up to click with my wine glass.
Seems like an odd thing to toast to when you just agreed to go off with a complete stranger and play hide the sausage. The more I think about it though, the more it honestly makes sense. I made a promise, to my sister that I would never stop living. Of course, she didn’t know about this promise, but the day I made that promise to her, whispering the words to the cold earth, I felt a weight lift off my shoulders.
Well sister dear, if this isn’t living, then I don’t know what is.
“To living,” I echo back with a smile before taking a sip.
*
It has been an hour since I essentially agreed to a night of unlimited possibilities. I see Greg floating around the room, stopping to spend time with the bride as well as the rest of the men in their immediate group. He seems to be aware of my every movement. I move to speak with another person, and his eyes are always burning into my skin. When my eyes meet his, it is pure fire. I could feel his gaze caressing every inch of my skin and it was slowly, agonizingly driving me out of my mind.
I want him.
“I know that look.” Dee says, coming to rest at the table that Emmy and I have been sitting at for the last few minutes.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“My ass you don’t,” she laughs. “That look you keep sending G is hot enough to make me start panting.”
“Oh, really? You wouldn’t happen to know anything about heated looks across the room, would you?” Emmy cuts in. Her tone actually shocks me. In all the times I have been around her, she has been nothing but sweet and quiet.
“What the hell, Em?” What the hell indeed.
“Look, Dee, you know I love you, but please take my advice, Beck wants you, and you keep playing games. What are you going to do one day when you change YOUR mind and want what he has been offering for almost two years and he isn’t offering it anymore?”
“It’s not that easy, Em.” Dee rests her head against my shoulder and lets out a ragged breath, “It’s just not that easy.”
I look up and meet Emmy’s eyes across the table, noting that her usually sweet and serine expression is hard and cold.
“It is that easy. You want him, he wants you, but you are too busy trying to push him away to give him the chance he deserves. I would love to be in your shoes. Have the man I want, want me back.” She slams her glass down on the table, rattling all the place settings in the process. Giving her chair a shove back, she leaves the table so quickly I’m not even sure which direction she ran off in.
“Would you like to clue me in on what just happened here?” I ask Dee with a slightly manic laugh.