I walk back into the hall, wondering exactly how and when we can take this teasing elsewhere and onward. Just how blatantly obvious would we be if we simply never made it to the bar? I could text a little invitation . . .
I’ve only made it two steps back toward the lobby, my hand reaching for my phone in my purse, when Will comes around the bend. We both stop.
There’s no one else around. He steps toward me, and every inch of my skin tingles with anticipation. “You,” he mutters, “have been driving me insane all evening.”
“Sorry.” My voice comes out a little breathless. “I have been told my flirting lacks finesse.”
“Fuck finesse.” His head dips, his lips almost brushing my temple. “I want to touch you until the only word you know is my name. I want to fuck you so hard you forget that too.”
Holy shit.
I grip the front of his shirt. “So what’s stopping you?”
Will lets out a growl and pushes me back against the wall. It was only this afternoon I was last kissing him, but it feels like forever, and I let out a sigh of pleasure when his mouth finds mine in a long, molten kiss. He pulls my body tight against his. He’s hard, his cock pressing into me. His mouth plunders mine, darkly sweet from the chocolate cake. I can’t think of anything except kissing him back with all the pent-up hunger in me.
His hands drop to my hips, his thumbs tracing a teasing line along my waist. I shiver into him and his lips break from mine with a smile. He kisses my cheek, my jaw, the side of my neck in seductive succession. Then he draws back. His hands stay on me.
“Your room or mine?” he demands. “Or does that break your first date rules?”
“Oh, this is definitely the second date now,” I say breathlessly. “Everything goes.” I detach one hand from my waist and wrap my fingers around his. Then I step away to tug him toward the elevators. “Ready?”
His grin is full of promise. “Never been more.”
Chapter Seventeen
Unfortunately, the elevators are in the lobby. Also in the lobby? Trevor. The groom-to-be catches sight of us as we’re skirting the front desk and breaks into a smile.
I slip my hand away from Will’s and ease a little farther apart as Trevor ambles over.
“There you are!” Trevor says. Based on his buoyant attitude, I’d guess he’s had more than one glass of wine this evening. He sweeps his arm in the direction of the bar. “Let’s go, let’s go. We’re already two rounds into the nightcaps.”
“Well, I—” I start, but he’s already draped an arm around Will and is hustling us towards the bar.
Damn.
Will catches my eye and grimaces, but what can we do? Short of telling Trevor, “Sorry to blow off your wedding celebrations, but we need to go screw our brains out,” we’re stuck following him to meet the rest of the wedding party. The shots lined up in front of the five of them glimmer bright yellow in the glasses. We get there just as they toss back the vibrant liquid. Lulu lets out a squeal. Maggie smacks down her glass with a flourish. Brooke shudders, but she’s giggling too.
“The gang’s all here!” Brad says when he sees us.
“Ruby!” Brooke cries. “There’s a pool table in one of the back rooms. You never told us.” She glowers playfully at Will.
He holds up his hands. “It doesn’t get much use in good weather.”
My bestie hops off her stool. “That’s no excuse. Come on, Ruby—we should play.”
When we were in high school, we used to smack around the balls once a week in the pub we’d sneak into. The bartenders tolerated our presence and obviously fake IDs as long as we stuck to ordering virgin drinks.
“Hey, the two of you don’t get to have all the fun,” Maggie says. “We can play teams.” She cocks her head. “Guys vs. gals?”
Brad’s brow knits. “Would that really be fair?” he asks, sounding totally earnest. Oh dear.
Maggie cackles. “Okay, just for that, we’re definitely making it a battle of the sexes. Who’s in?”
“I don’t know,” Lulu yawns, but then her face brightens. “Unless we make it interesting.”
“What are you thinking?” Colin asks, leaning closer. Lulu looks through her eyelashes at him, and I wonder if she’s finally hooked her own fling for the week.
“Why play pool when you can play strip pool instead?” she says coyly. “You sink a ball, you get to pick one piece of clothing for someone on the other side to take off. You miss, you have to take something off. It spices things up a bit.”
Normally, I might balk at the idea of shedding clothes in company that includes my best friend’s hubby-to-be and a relative stranger. But all at once I can think of nothing I’d enjoy more than getting to watch Will strip down as a preview of the full feature I should be getting later tonight.
“I’m in,” I decide.
Will raises his eyebrows. I recognize the spark of challenge in his gaze. “Why not?”
“All right, let’s do it!” Brooke leads the way around the bar to the games room. “You know, I think the odds are kind of skewed against us ladies here. You guys all have shirts and pants and socks and we’ve just got dresses and shoes.”
“Sink enough balls and that won’t be a problem,” Trevor says, looping his arm around her waist.
“Brooke has a point,” Colin pipes up. “What if the guys’ side started with shoes off?”
“If we count bracelets and necklaces as clothes, then you’ve got a deal,” Maggie says.
The room turns out to hold not just a pool table but air hockey, foosball, and a few retro arcade machines as well. I might have to swing by and give that vintage Asteroids unit a shot before my stay here is over. Brad flips a coin, and we determine it’ll be boys first. Colin grabs a stick and breaks the rack. His hand wobbles a bit, and I realize I’ve got a bit of an advantage having missed those earlier rounds of booze. But he sinks one solid with a little shout of victory. Then he scans the four of us ladies, looking uncertain. His ears have pinked. It’s kind of adorable.
“Um, Ruby, bracelet,” he says.
You can’t get much tamer than that. I shrug, unclasp my garnet-studded silver chain, and drape it on my purse. Brooke grabs the other stick.
“Let’s do this,” she says, with a confidence she doesn’t end up earning. Her shot goes wide. The striped ball she was aiming at bounces off the corner of the hole. She makes a face and kicks off one of her flats.
I amble around the table as Brad sets up, as if I’m surveying it from different angles. My real goal is to pass behind Will and surreptitiously trail my pinky across the small of his back. His muscles flex. He manages to score a quick pat of my ass before I meander on.
Be still my panties.
Brad sinks another solid. “Maggie, dress,” he says with a wolfish grin.