Live Me

Jace fawned over himself one last time, did a spin like Michael Jackson, and planted a kiss on my cheek.

I bent down to retrieve a pair of knee high, black leather boots, as Jace trilled, “Coming, loverboy.”

Their voices were muffled as I put the finishing touches on my ensemble. I glanced in the mirror, satisfied. “Good enough.”

My heels clacked on the hardwood floor as I made my way to the kitchen, the good time they were having becoming more audible with every step. Glasses clinked and, as I rounded the corner, the boys brought shots of my reserves to their lips.

Blake’s eyes locked on mine as the liquid fire went down his throat, and he choked. His hand flew up to cover his mouth as he bent forward, coughing uncontrollably.

“You okay?” Jace pounded him on the back.

Using the counter for support, he let out a few more of those nasty little chokes that linger as his glassed over eyes found mine again. “Yeah, I’m okay.” He scanned the length of me, from the tips of my toes all the way to the top of my head as he regulated his breathing. “Damn, Angel. You look . . . breathtaking . . . apparently.” Another stray cough passed his bewitching lips.

I fidgeted, swaying back and forth and picking at my nails. “Thanks. You clean up pretty nice yourself.” And man, did he ever. I tried my best to play it cool, but the boy had to have been carved from the gods themselves.

I took in the faded jeans that hung low on his squared off hips—the hips with the perfectly placed indents at each corner. A tremor passed through me as my eyes roamed over the muscles that bulged from beneath a fitted white V-neck. He tried to cover them with a blazer, but I knew they were there, pressing up against the thin cotton.

The smooth skin below his collarbone taunted me, begging to be nibbled. Between the round peaks of his chest lay a shiny silver cross. My fingers twitched, wanting to grab it, pull him to me and hold him there. I dug my fingernails into my palms to stop from doing just that and shifted from one foot to the other. Crossing my legs, I stood there, nervous the sensations traveling through the lower half of my body would be visible. Heated vibrations pulsed through my core making it difficult to stand, let alone hold a conversation.

I licked my dry lips, wondering what the smooth curves of his neck tasted like, and then my eyes roamed past the juiciest lips I’d ever seen. Rosy and plump and glistening with the moisture the last swipe of his tongue had left. The rum he’d just downed probably lingered at the corners and would make them taste even sweeter. Visions of plunging my fingers into his perfectly mussed hair and anchoring him to me danced before me. It was shiny and darker than usual and styled to look as though he’d just been fucked. My sights landed on his glittery, gorgeous eyes. The shimmer of water that remained from his bout of choking was enough to make his blue diamonds dance.

I bundled my hands into balls at my sides as my body warred with my mind. All I wanted to do was grab him, drag him to my bedroom, and put a stop to the endless torture. Tell him I surrendered and was his to do with what he wished. The pull on my soul was intense. It felt like he was reaching out for me, begging mine to meet it halfway. I don’t know what stopped me from caving right then and there, and I didn’t understand where these foreign feelings were coming from.

“Care to join us for our pre-gaming extravaganza?” Blake raised a glass and tipped his head toward it, breaking me out of my reverie.

“Sure. I could use a stiff one.” My eyes were lit with humor as I made my way over to them, making sure to sway my hips just right.

Violent coughing raked through him once again. When he was able to catch his breath, he looked at me out of the corner of his eye as I rounded the edge of the kitchen bar. “You’re killin’ me. You know that, woman?”

The edge of my mouth quirked up in a sly grin. I reached up on my tippy toes, making sure to elongate my body as I grabbed another shot glass down from the cabinet. When I turned around, Blake’s eyes were glued to my legs, or ass, or both. His mouth hung agape.

“Fill ‘er up.” I placed the glass in front of him. Since he was always messing with me, I thought I’d have a little fun with Blake tonight, but now that I was so close, it was hard to play this game. The smell of his cologne curled its way up my nostrils and into my brain, causing my eyes to close for the briefest of seconds while I took it in. The scent of him freshly showered had me picturing him standing under the hot stream. His head tipped back, dragging his fingers through his hair, water beading up on his tanned skin.

Oh, dear God.

I panted under the weight that was placed on my chest. Standing this close to him was out of the question, so I rounded the bar to distance myself. He slid the now full glass in my direction and, when I went to pick it up, my fingers brushed his, sending an electric shock up my arm.

My hand recoiled from the buzz, and I spilled a little of my drink on the counter.

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