Mister Romance by Amelia Simone (the reading list .txt) 📕

I chuckled to cover up the flash of desire. “Is it everything you imagined?”

My eyes scanned his face as I waited for his response. He wasn’t quite as crisp as earlier in the day, but still incredibly handsome. Golden stubble peppered his strong jaw. The glint in his icy blue eyes should have warned me.

“Well, I can’t say it’s everything I imagined,” he said. I wilted slightly at his words. “I know one thing we haven’t done yet. Care to move this conversation to the dance floor?” He tilted his head toward the other couples. A new slow song had started, and my chest inflated at the thought of swaying together, soaking in the seduction of his closeness. I nodded and moved into the shelter of his arms. I wound my arms up around his neck, inhaling his soapy scent. Chase placed his hands on my hips, and tingles radiated under my skin.

I lost the thread of conversation as his body grazed my own. His tux pants scraped deliciously against my thighs as he maneuvered us around the dance floor expertly. Safe and secure, I relaxed into his grasp.

He leaned in and murmured in my ear, “I don’t think I’ve asked, is this wedding everything you imagined? Your family is a little colorful, but I haven’t had to tranquilize you yet.”

I tilted my head back and smiled at him. “You’ve helped me dodge most of the uncomfortable questions. Thanks again for coming with me.”

“It was my pleasure. I have so many plot bunnies hopping out at me. I should be thanking you.”

I laughed softly, the timbre huskier than normal. “Plot bunnies?”

“Author speak for more story ideas than I can possibly use in a lifetime,” he rumbled.

I traced a hand down his chest, resting it over his heart. Was it my imagination, or was it beating faster than typical? I could feel the heavy beat in the palm of my hand beneath the firm muscle.

“So, if we were characters in one of your books, what would happen next?”

Would he pick up the gauntlet? We’d been friendly all day, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss in my kitchen. Or him defending me to my uncle. A languid mix of gratitude and desire percolated in my veins. Dancing together had only turned up the lust quotient. Did he feel it too?

“You want to know?”

I nodded against his chest, settling my head on his shoulder and reveling in the heat of his body against mine.

Chase nuzzled at the back of my ear, and murmured, “Well, I noticed that the caterers are gone, and the kitchen looks empty, but the door is still ajar. I bet that door has a lock.”

I shivered. My heart pounded at the possibilities a locked door presented. Instead of commenting, I answered with a hum.

Chase took it as encouragement and continued, “Your dress has been driving me crazy all night. That color makes your skin glow. I can imagine inching the right sleeve down your shoulder, then the left, and running my lips down into the valley between your neck and shoulder, tickling you with my stubble. Scraping until I can peel the bodice down your gorgeous breasts, releasing them for more of my attention.”

A shudder danced down my spine, and he paused to pull me closer. I didn’t know what to say, but I wasn’t ready for the sweet torture to end. Every word evoked his hottest scenes, transporting me the vision he painted of us.

“Go on,” I whispered.

“Your arms would be trapped by your dress, and I’d take advantage of that position. I’d spin and push you toward the wall, until your forehead kissed the cool plaster, and come up behind you. Slowly, so slowly, I’d inch the zipper on your dress down and pull your hips away from the wall, legs spread wide, while you ached from the sensation of air and emptiness. I’d lean down to grasp each of your ankles, wrapping my hands around them, and caressing my way up until I’d flipped your skirt out of my way, showcasing your panties. Would they be wet for me, Tamra?”

I could do nothing but groan softly at his suggestions, losing track of the people around me and the music. Heat pricked my skin and desire pooled like warm honey between my thighs. We kept swaying, we were barely moving, pressing closer and closer together. I couldn’t focus on the music. The beat of my pulse overrode every other rhythm. It was clear from the firm tent in his trousers that Chase’s fantasies were turning him on too.

“I bet they’d be dripping. I’d peel them off, stopping to bite that full ass on the way down. Not hard, mind you, but just enough so you’d feel it later. But I still wouldn’t really touch you where you were aching. Anticipation is so sweet, don’t you think?”

This time he didn’t wait for a response, which was good because all rational thought had escaped my brain.

“I’d kiss my way from the nape of your neck down your spine, keeping those hips and ass front and center and you facing the wall, arms at your sides. I can imagine grinding myself against you, the heat and friction of our bodies together increasing the ache.”

I was nearly panting. Any pretense of dancing was gone. His words echoed through my body in stereo, sexy scenes from his books amplifying my desire as I considered the possibilities.

“How do you feel about turning fantasy into reality?”

Chapter 21 - Tamra

Chase’s labored breath gusted against my ear. At the same time, he applied gentle pressure to my hips, and I focused my eyes enough to see that he’d maneuvered us across the dance floor and near the kitchen.

My body screamed to make the fantasy he described a reality, and I nodded in silent assent. Chase grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to the kitchen. A moment later my Grandma Marie passed in front of us, and I prayed she wouldn’t stop to talk.