I laugh, seeing the wide smile on his face.
“She’s the blonde one in the black dress, right?”
It really can’t be too hard to figure it out. He already knows who Brea is, so that’s off the table. There is Ellie, who is standing next to Callum who has his arm permanently glued to her side. Then, there’s Kinsley who’s running through the bachelor/bachelorette party games with Halle seated, looking somewhat relaxed as she laughs with Brannon about something. I grit my teeth watching as Halle brushes her hand against Brannon’s arm, as her eyes flash over to mine. She knows I’m watching her and her obvious display of flirting with my friend.
The sound of glass shattering at the bar next to us has both Craig and I turning our attention to where Lissa is rounding up the order of drinks. Lissa raises her hand to her mouth as she mutters “ouch” repeatedly, spurring Craig and me into action.
“Are you okay?” I mutter, helping clean up the spilled vodka on the bar being careful as I pick up the shards of glass.
“Just great,” she responds. There is a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“You sure about that?” I ask, raising my eyebrow at her not buying it at all.
“Are they, like, together?”
She motions with her head over to the table and it dawns on me that she’s asking about Brannon and Halle. I’m surprised she asks, honestly. The first time she met Brannon was when she was dating her ex-boyfriend, Adam, and he didn’t shy away from hitting on her immediately.
Lissa wasn’t at all interested, or so we thought, at his obvious advances. In fact, she denied him and any attempts of even talking to her every time.
Now here she is asking if he’s dating Halle, not realizing she’s never met Halle or who she is to me.
“If they were, would it bother you?”
“No,” she replies sharply, rolling her eyes as she kneels on the floor to wipe up the mess.
She’s as bothered by their flirting as I am. I want to laugh at how stubborn she can be.
She doesn’t look at me as she continues to busy herself with remaking the spilled drink and lining them all onto her tray.
“Lissa,” I say, interrupting her. She huffs out a breath, blowing a strand of hair in front of her face as she looks up at me. The same moment she does that, we hear another round of laughs behind us, drawing our attention back to Halle and Brannon.
Flexing my jaw, I shake my head wanting to yell at Brannon to lay off when I think about his words from earlier tonight about how it’s my fault she’s on the market anyway. It’s true and I can’t exactly go around telling Halle who she can’t be with.
Turning my attention back to Lissa, she plasters a fake smile on her face as she moves the tray into her hands.
“What’s up?”
“For the record, they aren’t together,” I say, pausing to make sure she hears me. “Remember Halle, the girl from back home I told you about?”
When Lissa and Adam broke up, she was upset. She tried to hide it, she can play it off well, but when I found her broken down in the cooler one night after a text message he had sent her, I opened up to her about the one that got away.
It takes her a minute, but her eyes widen as she remembers who that is as she looks back over at them and then back to me.
“That’s her?”
“Yep,” I say. “If I had to guess, they are both trying to get under our skin. Trust me, I know because even though they keep talking, he hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you.”
“Of course, he can’t,” she mocks, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “God, he is such a pain in the ass,” she curses, adjusting the tray on her arm as she saunters over to the table.
I want to laugh as Brannon eyes her the entire way over. She knows it, too, as she adds an extra swing to her hips.
Stubborn woman.
Eleven
Halle
“Is Graham going to come to his senses someday and realize what a great catch he let go of?” Brannon says, leaning in close as he whispers low enough so only I can hear him.
I’m not stupid and neither is he. I don’t know who the girl is that Graham has been chatting it up with, but whoever it is, she’s someone Brannon doesn’t want him talking to either.
“Probably not,” I joke, just as she walks away from Graham toward our table with a tray full of our drinks.
“Well, if it isn’t the firecracker herself.”
For a second, I think she didn’t hear him, as she begins serving the drinks to everyone around the table. I take a sip of my martini, feeling the warmth from the alcohol rush through me.
Once she finishes unloading the drinks, she slides the tray under her arm as she focuses her attention back on Brannon. I know that look, she’s letting him know now she’s not at all amused by him and I want to laugh.
“Did you decide what you wanted to order?”
Brannon leans forward with his elbows on the table. Graham pulls out a chair next to me, taking a seat at the end, flashing me a wink as he leans back getting comfortable.
“Hmm,” Brannon says, knowing how much his prolonged response is driving her crazy.
“I’ll let you continue to think on it,” she says, as Brannon holds his hand up to stop her.
Her eyes narrow at him as she lets out a heavy sigh.
“I’ll let you surprise me.” He smiles.
I don’t know whether to laugh or hold my breath at the grin that takes over her face.
“Sure thing,” she says, dropping her smile as she turns and walks away.
“Well, that was interesting,” I say, looking over at Brannon and back to Graham. “I don’t think your friend likes Brannon much.”
Brannon laughs. “She can play it off all she wants, but I think I’m breaking her down a little. Sooner or later, she’ll fall in love with me.”
“Good luck,” Graham responds.
I want to be annoyed, I should be annoyed. Once again, I’m reminded of what he was doing when he left me, or maybe who he was doing.
I feel jealous and, honestly, I hate it. I don’t get jealous, but when it comes to Graham Shaw, nothing is off limits.
I take a large gulp of my martini, not wanting to feel the way I’m feeling right now. As much as I hate turning to alcohol, I just want to numb everything and if I’m going to have to sit through the reminders of him walking away from me, I’d rather not feel a damn thing.
I take one last drink before setting the glass down. A shiver races over my body, the effects of the alcohol surging through me.
“You trying to get drunk?”
Graham looks at me, concern in his eyes. I know he hates when I drink but tonight, I don’t really care.
“Not necessarily,” I lie.
“Well, take it easy.”
I want to tell him not to worry about me, but I see Lissa approaching with Brannon’s drink, and all I care about is putting in another order.
“Your drink, sir.” She smiles, setting the drink on the table.
Brannon looks down, then back up at her. “What is it?”
Lissa perches her hand on her hip before smiling smugly back at him. “That is an Adios Motherfucker!”
I cover my mouth to contain my laughter. This girl is my spirit animal.
“You’re kidding me,” Brannon deadpans.
“I don’t think she is.” I laugh.
“Enjoy,” she replies sweetly, before she walks away.
Brannon growls, muttering something under his breath about her being a hellfire and having his hands full with her. He slides out of his seat and follows along behind her. I didn’t even get to order my drink.
“If he’s not going to drink this, I will.”
Graham grabs my wrist in his hand, stopping me. “I think you’re good for now. Don’t you?”
Staring down at his grip on me, I want to fire back, but then he stands and pulls me up with him.
“It’s been awhile,” Graham intimates, leaning in close to me.
“Why don’t you show me your moves?”
If I wasn’t feeling the effects of the alcohol already, I was feeling them now. Or it was the Graham effect. Good lord, he has a way of making me so wanton.
He pulls me along behind him. I hear Callum catcall behind us, followed by Mason yelling “finally.” As soon as we approach the dance floor, he slows down, putting his arm around me as the crowd of people envelops us. People on the dance floor move. The beat of the music pulsating, almost like the way my body feels having Graham near.
When we’re far enough away from the table, Graham stops and pulls me into his arms. Everything around us falls away, and it’s just the two of us.
Wrapping his arms around me, his hands roam over my backside. Feeling his hands on me again with the limited space between us, it’s heady. I don’t want him to stop. Gripping the front of his shirt in my hands, I lean forward till there’s only an inch separating our mouths.
It’s a bold move. I know it and so does he. I’m tempting him because damn it, I want him so bad.
He leans in further. We’re so close to kissing now, I can nearly taste him on my lips. The look of desire and sweat coat his face.
Digging my nails into his chest, I drag them down his front until I reach the waistband of his jeans. He bites his lower lip telling me he likes where this is going, but he doesn’t move or stop me.
Turning, I press my back against him, grinding my ass against him. I can feel every inch of him, and the thought of having him again makes my legs weak with how much I want him.
“Halle,” he breathes into my ear, pressing his hand against my stomach holding me against him.
We dance together off and on throughout the night and every time we do, it’s like we somehow get closer. It makes me miss the times when I could kiss him and touch him. I almost feel like looking back on them now, I took those moments for granted.
Now I crave the chance to be near him in a way that is unhealthy for me. Like I’d go to lengths to have him around me that are not becoming, but I honestly don’t give a damn.
Later that night, we both step off the elevator together. The sexual tension between us is so thick. I almost want to slow down and take my time getting to our doors, knowing this is the point when we will part ways, and I don’t want our time together to end.
Standing in front of my door, Graham leans in and whispers “goodnight” against my ear. His lips drag along the edge of my ear. He pulls himself away, as he swipes the keycard to his room and disappears inside. My body feels the loss of him as soon as he’s gone. I sigh against the door, immediately missing him and regretting the missed opportunity to kiss him.
I miss the feel of his soft lips on mine, the way his large hand would wrap over the side of my face, tangling his fingers in my hair.
It’s evident he wanted to kiss me, and God, I wanted to kiss him too. Everything in me wanted to take what we’ve both been denying ourselves since I first saw him standing in my doorway weeks ago.
Flashing the keycard in the door, I rush inside and toss my purse on the bed. Looking in the mirror, I fix my hair and adjust the front of my dress, giving the girls a little bit of lift.
Walking back to the door that separates our rooms from each other, I quietly knock on it before stepping back and waiting. The nerves hit me, jitters breaking out over my body.
The lock on the door clicks just before Graham’s face appears. His shirt is off and just like that the game’s over. My resolve is gone, chucked somewhere behind me along with my plans to continue pushing his buttons making him regret leaving me.
“Something wrong?” he asks, his brow furrowing.
In this moment, all that is left standing there is just him and me. Pushing the door open all the way, I’m caught off guard when I find him with his pants unbuttoned and his boxer briefs peeking out from below his jeans.
“Yes, something’s wrong. It’s wrong how bad I want you, how bad I fucking need you right now,” I say, running the palm of my hand over his chest.
His skin breaks out in goose bumps, as my finger traces his abs down to the edge of his boxer briefs. Wrapping my hand into the front of his jeans, I pull him closer to me.
He doesn’t expect it, and I love how bold I feel. How it takes him by surprise, but I note the glimmer in his eyed telling me how much he loves it.
“What’s more wrong is what I’m willing to do to make you put me out of my misery.”
He lets go of the door, causing it to slam shut behind me, and just like that his hands are on me.
Wrapping his hands in my hair, he pulls my head back giving him access to my neck. He runs his nose along the column of my neck, whispering how good I smell and how much he wants to taste me.
He licks and nips his way up my neck and over to my ear.
“You need me to touch you, Halle?” he asks.
I’m so close to begging him that I’m half tempted to climb up his body and wrap my legs around him, just to feel some friction relief.
Pressing my back against the door, I run my hands over his chest again down to where his dick is straining against the front of his pants.
Wrapping my palm around him, he lets out a string of expletives before he grabs my arm and holds it above my head.
“Don’t move,” he says, holding my stare. “Cause I need you just as much as you need me.”
I know Graham would never do anything to hurt me. That thought would never even enter my mind.
“This is about you,” he sighs, running his hands down my arms over my chest. He squeezes my breast over the material of my dress. I can feel my nipples straining against the lace of my bra, begging for him to touch them.
“Where is the zipper?” he asks, as I turn my body to an angle showing him where the zipper is underneath my arm. He slides it down, careful not to ruin the material but urgent enough to not waste any time.
As soon as he sees the lace material of my bra, he whispers “fuck” to himself again before glancing up to look me in the eyes. He knows I wore this for a reason. Even if I told myself I wasn’t going to give into him, there was always the chance that I would.
I knew how much he loved seeing me in lace and I loved seeing the look on his face when he did.
Letting the dress fall to the floor, I watch as Graham’s six-four frame kneels in front of me. Kissing a path over my stomach, down to the apex of my thigh and back up to the lace material of my panties.
His nose grazes a path over the top of my mound and the slightest bit of contact is enough to make my legs feel like jelly beneath me.
The level of care he showed a moment ago is gone now, as he reaches out and rips the material away from my body. My jaw drops, as my panties fall to the floor along with my dress, before my eyes find Graham’s once again. I can’t be mad when I see the look of hunger and desire written on his face.
He is waiting for me to say something, to reprimand him for ruining my underwear. When he realizes it isn’t going to come, he smiles as he moans and whispers, “Good girl.”
Running his callused hand up my legs and over my thigh, he picks up my left leg and begins tracing kisses from my knee up the inside of my leg. Just before he reaches my pussy, he begins the descent back down my thigh again.
He does that several times before I feel like I am about to come out of my skin, but not once do I move my arms back down. Nope. I want to continue to obey his commands, to be his good girl, not wanting to find out what will happen if I don’t.
I want him to put me out of my misery. To put out this fire he’s started in me, that only he will ever be able to put out.
When he gets close to my pussy again, my pelvis begins seeking him out. Wrapping his hands around to my ass, he holds me close to him as he feathers a breath over my heated skin.
His cool breath on my wet skin leaves me whimpering, as I squeeze my eyes closed and tilt my head back against the door.
With one swipe of his tongue, I can see stars dance in front of me, as I st
art chanting his name praising him for how good he makes me feel. One of his fingers enter me, just barely, as his tongue continues to flick over my clit. Slowly, expertly.
One minute his finger will be there and the next it’s gone. He knows what he is doing. Giving me just enough of what I want before taking it away. It is maddening but feels incredible all at the same time.
My orgasm starts to build from the moment his tongue touches me, but it is his finger slowly entering me and disappearing that keeps me on the brink. It’s as if I’ve been left hanging on the edge of the cliff, waiting to fall.
I keep chanting his name and begging him “please” when his finger slowly enters me again, curling just enough. Just like that, I feel my body catapult over the edge leaving stars flashing before me as the aftershocks of my release jolt through me.
It is a good thing he has a hold of me, or I would’ve fallen over, left in a puddle on the floor of his hotel room.
Moving to stand, I can see his cock aching to break free from the confines of his jeans. I reach out for him, but he stops me. Grabbing my hand, kissing it as he lifts me up in his arms. My body relaxes into him, wrapping around his neck.
I mumble a soft “thank you” as he lowers me onto the bed, feeling the soft cotton of the bed sheets.
He bends down and presses a kiss against the edge of my mouth before whispering, “no, thank you,” as my lids fall heavy, closing over my eyes.
Twelve
Graham – Eighteen Years Old
The feel of her warm breath glides along the side of my neck. The sun has long since gone down, leaving us standing beneath the starry night sky. Just her. Just her and me, alone together.
Sliding my hands along her sides, I pull her hips in closer, so she’s pressed against me. The subtle moan that escapes her lips makes me crave the feel of them on mine.
Wrapping my fingers in her hair, I stare into her eyes for a moment before I give in and press my mouth roughly against hers.
Until I Found You: A Second Chance Standalone Romance (Heart's Compass Book 3) Page 8
