I raise my arms over my head, crossing them at the wrists and swivel my hips to the rhythm, the alcohol buzzing through my system. I close my eyes, absorbing the atmosphere all around me. A tingling sensation up my spine has me flashing my eyes back open.

I look up, and despite the synchronized unison of the mass on the dance floor, I stop, frozen in place when I see Colton. He is standing on one of the stairways that angles down from the VIP section. He has a drink in one hand and his other arm drapes casually around the shoulder of a statuesque blonde. She is turned into him, her hand rubbing gently through the top unbuttoned portion of his dress shirt. Her face tilts up to him and even from a distance, I can see her reverence and adoration of him although he has his head turned away from her, laughing with a rakish man on his left. A large daunting man stands behind him, eyes scanning the crowd. His security, maybe? Colton flashes a smile at his male cohort and it’s natural and unguarded, allowing me to momentarily appreciate his absolutely devastating looks. The blonde says something and Colton turns his attention back to her. She lifts her hand from his chest to rest on his cheek and lifts her face up, placing a slow, seductive kiss on his lips in ownership.

My insides churn at the sight, clouding my vision so much that I don’t pay enough attention to see if Colton is encouraging and returning the kiss or merely just tolerating it. My mouth is suddenly dry. I am paralyzed on the floor as I watch him with her. Numb really. We’re not together—my constant refusal of him has not demonstrated that I want otherwise. And despite my intense and unfounded hurt right now, all I want is that to be me he is holding. Me he is kissing. In the seconds that all of this swirls within me, my hurt begins to shift to anger. How stupid was I to think a guy like him could actually want a girl like me when he could have a girl like her?

I notice Haddie fall motionless in my periphery, taking notice of what I see. I’m about to turn to say something to her when Colton lifts his chin away from his arm candy, and looks up, his eyes locking onto mine. My heart skips over a beat and lodges itself in my throat. Despite the distance between us, I see shock flash in his eyes at us being in the same place, same time, yet again.

Even though a fellow dancer jostles me, my eyes hold steadfast to his. I know I need to leave the floor before my emotions get the best of me and my threatening tears begin to fall, but I am riveted in place. Unable to break the inescapable, magnetic pull he has over me. He releases his hold on the blonde immediately, discarding her easily. He hands his drink off to his male companion without looking and strides unfaltering down the stairs. His emerald eyes burn into mine, never losing our connection.

As he reaches the dance floor, the music changes to a deep, pulsating throb enveloping Trent Reznor’s hypnotic voice. Without a word or a look, the horde of dancers seems to move apart as he stalks onto the floor toward me. His expression is indiscernible, the muscle pulsing at his jaw, the shadows from the lights playing over the angles of his face. His long legs eat up the distance quickly. Numerous people turn their heads in recognition as he struts past, but the hungry look in his eyes stops them from approaching him any further. Despite the music’s volume, I audibly hear Haddie suck in a breath as he reaches me.

All of the things I want to yell at him, all of the hurt I want to spew at him, disappears as he stalks up to me, and without preamble grabs my hips in his hands, forcefully yanking me up against him. He holds me there, pressed against him, as his body starts to move, hips begin to grind into mine in sync to the punishing tempo of the song. I have no other option than to move with him, respond to the animalistic rhythm of his body. I slide my hands over his hands on my hips and lace my fingers through his. Holding him.

Holding on to the ride that is undeniably coming.

Our eyes remain locked. My head tilts back to look up at him. His lips part slightly, and I can hear him hiss out as my hips respond with him. His eyes darken, glazing with desire, filling with heat—with a predatory need. His scorching look alone has my nipples tightening and my body becoming a melting mess of need in anticipation of his touch. Of his undoubted possession of me.

I bite my bottom lip as he moves our combined hands from my hips to behind my back, kneading my backside through my dress, handcuffing me there. We continue to move as one with the music, the feeling of his firm, defined thighs pressing against mine. His arousal rubs thick and compelling against the lower part of my belly. He leans his face down so that we are within inches of each other. I can smell the alcohol on his breath as he sighs into me.

It is by far one of the most erotically sensual moments of my life. The rest of the world has fallen away. The intoxicating effect he has on my body blocks out the crowd of people around us, all looking our way, noticing me because of the man I am with. Rather it is just he and I. Moving. Responding. Arousing. Anticipating.

The song comes to an end, but we remain entranced in each other’s spell. I breathe for what I feel like is the first time since we’ve touched, a long shaky breath. I don’t realize that the music has stopped, and that the DJ is speaking over the microphone about the product of the evening. That except for the small crowd around us, the attention of the club has turned and is focused on the stage.

Colton and I stand there, not moving, feeling like we are barely breathing despite our heaving chests, absorbing each other and the sparks of sexual tension that are igniting between us.

“Colton! Hey, Colton,” a voice breaks through our connection, snapping me out of my spellbound state. Colton swivels his head to find one of the PRX staff calling his name. “It’s time. We need you on the stage. Now.”

He nods curtly before looking back at me, eyes smoldering with a rapacious urgency that makes my insides shiver. He unlaces his fingers from mine, releasing his hold on my hands and pulls away slightly. The warmth of his body is gone immediately, but my body is still humming from the connection, aching with need. He gives me a slow, suggestive smile and shakes his head softly. At me? At his own thoughts? At which one I’m not sure.

He reaches up a hand and tugs on my hair, his eyebrows quirk up as if to ask me why the change in my hair. I shrug shyly at him, words escaping me. His name is called again. He turns to go, but not before I watch the transition on his face from the Colton Donavan I know, to the public persona. Aloof and untouchable. Sexy and untamable.

We haven’t uttered a single word, and yet I feel like we’ve said so much.

I watch his broad shoulders as he walks through the crowd toward the stage, his bodyguard falling in step beside him, pushing back the people swarming him. I watch the spectacle and a little part of me smiles at the fact that I’ve seen the real Colton, not this one. At least I hope I have, my ever-present doubts returning.

Before I can finish watching his ascent to the makeshift stage, Haddie has me firmly by the arm and is pulling me unceremoniously from the dance floor. My resistance is futile as she drags me down a corridor, past the line for the bathrooms, and toward a small alcove near the exit. She spins me to face her, an incredulous look on her face.

“Ow, you’re hurting me!” I snap at her, yanking my arm away, not exactly thrilled at being taken away from the chance to watch Colton.

“What. The. Fuck. Was. That?” she asks, each word a staccato. I don’t even know how to answer her. I think I’m still under his spell for my words are not forming. “Holy shit, Rylee! You two were basically fucking each other with your eyes. I mean, I felt uncomfortable watching you two, like I was peeping into your bedroom,” she rambles on as she does when excited, “and you know I never get uncomfortable.” She leans back against the wall and tilts her head up to the ceiling, an unbelieving look on her face.

I stand there and stare at her for I don’t know how to answer her, so she continues. “I knew you said you guys had made out,” she continues ignoring the childlike snort of laughter that comes from me, “But you never told me that there was … that spark … that chemistry … such intensity … My God! I mean, I was hoping when you saw him that—”

“What?” Her last sentence triggers my brain to function. “What do you mean you were hoping?”

She smiles sheepishly at me. “Well …”

What the fuck is going on here? “Quit stalling, Montgomery!”

“Well, I was calling you last night to tell you we had landed him as a guest—Merit’s one of his new sponsors. Anyway I called just because I was excited, I thought we could sit back and lust after him tonight—I didn’t know anything about what had happened. I talked to Dane and that was when I found out you were out with him.” Her words are tumbling out now. I nod at her to continue, my eyes narrowed, lips pursed. “Then you came home and everything unfolded …”

“And what? You decided not to tell me because …”

“Well,” she contemplates, “After you told me everything, I had no idea that you two—your connection—is that magnetic. That captivating. I thought maybe if you saw him here, I could help you—I could push the issue. Help you have some fun.”

I blow out a loud breath, silently staring at her. I know she means well, but at the same time, I don’t need my hand held like a child. I’m mad at her. Mad at Colton for being here with that bimbo. Mad at him for waltzing up to me and taking hold as if I belonged to him. Mad at him for making me want him so badly my insides are burning. My contemplative silence settles over us.