Filthy English

“Oops. Bad habit.” I grinned and turned to the blonde next to me. “Remi, do you remember . . .” I stopped. What was her name? Shit. I’d known it a minute ago.

“Alexandria,” Remi said dryly.

I leaned over, took Alexandria’s hand and kissed it. “Sorry. Too many drinks already, but I promise it won’t happen later.”

She giggled, and I leaned over and kissed her full on the lips, my tongue slipping inside hers. She moaned and just when her hands were snaking around my neck, I pulled back, glancing at Remi.

That was all for you, my eyes said.

You’re a bastard, hers said.

I bit my bottom lip, my gaze raking over her dress, lingering on her legs. My eyes lifted and met hers. I cocked an eyebrow. If you say the word, I’d kiss you instead, my face said.

Her face flamed, and her hands shook.

But I was past caring if she was hurt by a girl I was with. She was killing me.

A side of me wanted to pick at the wounds I knew we both had, because goddamn, I just wanted something from her instead of the girl who wanted to pretend we were barely even acquaintances.

No way in hell was I going back to the game we’d been playing.

I refused. REFUSED.

We would acknowledge we had a shitty past and only then would we move the fuck on.

I put my hand in my pocket and found the napkin I’d put there earlier. Standing up, I said, “If you ladies will excuse me, I have to visit the loo.”

In the press of people, I had to slide by Remi, and when my hand brushed hers, I pressed the napkin in hers. “This is yours, angel. Contract is null and void. The next time you fall in someone’s lap, remember . . . you can’t just be friends.”

Without a backward look, I stalked off toward the narrow hall that led to the restrooms. I went inside. It was a large room, but empty. Thank God. I needed to compose myself.

I kicked it shut with my foot and leaned against the concrete wall. I rubbed my face.

Spur-of-the-moment shit always get you in trouble, Dax.

And sure enough, Trouble walked in just like I’d wanted her to, blue eyes flashing fire.

We were about to collide at full force.

She marched toward me, legs swishing in her green dress. Her face was white, her lipstick a bright red. God, I wanted those lips.

I kept my eyes low and heavy. Waiting.

Halting in front of me, she threw the napkin in my face. It fluttered to the floor, showing me the large X I’d scrawled over it. “This meant something to me—even if it didn’t to you.”

I tossed my head back and laughed. “What? Like a sentimental value? It’s meaningless, Remi. We don’t need a contract to tell us we can’t ever kiss each other. You’re with him, and I’m going to screw that blonde tonight.”

Her throat moved. “Stop.”

“You stop. Stop getting in my head. Stop making me want something I can’t have. Stop looking at me like you want me. Stop breaking my heart about the baby . . .” My head pounded and I pressed on it.

Her lips turned down. “You asked, Dax. You fucking asked.”

My head dipped to my chest, remembering the emotion, the barrage of fucked up feelings from the night before. “I know, I know. And I’m sorry you went through it without me. I’m sorry I was a dickhead to you. I’m sorry I suck at relationships. I’m sorry I can’t be what you want. I’m sorry I stomped on your heart. I’m sorry you cried. I’m so fucking sorry. Just forgive me, okay?”

She whimpered at my words and pressed her hand over my heart. “I already have.”

I put my hand over hers, ironically where her name was. My other hand went to her hair and threaded through the strands.

“You’re shaking,” she said.

“Because I want you so bad I can’t breathe.”

“I can’t breathe either,” she whispered.

I pulled her hair back and her mouth parted. I leaned down, ran my tongue up her exposed throat, and sucked on her neck. Inhaling, I groaned at the taste of her. “This is what I need,” I whispered.

She sank into me, her tits hitting my chest.

I fused my mouth with hers. Hard.

Her tongue met mine, and we kissed like we were starving, our lips clinging to each other, our hands roaming everywhere. Touching.

I pillaged her mouth, her neck, her collarbone, unbuttoning her dress and shoving it down past her shoulders until I could see my name on her. I kissed her tattoo. “I wish you remembered how much you giggled when you got this.”

She pressed her face into my chest. “I almost do. I don’t regret it. Never.”

I tilted her face up and kissed her again. Slowly this time. I never wanted to let her go.

Voices came from the hallway as someone walked by.

“The door . . .” she said between kisses. “What if someone comes in?”

“I don’t give a fuck.”

I unzipped her dress on the side, tugging it the rest of the way down until it pooled on the floor. I squeezed her breasts, pulling them out of her lace bra but leaving it on. My mouth zeroed in on one while my fingers played with the other. Repositioning us, I pressed her back against the wall, went to my knees, and pulled her knickers down. I inhaled her scent, my hands cradling her waist.

She shuddered as my tongue snaked out to find her clit.

“Dax,” she breathed.

Need. Desire. Lust. Love. It all pounded. Put my mark on her.

She was mine. Not his.

“Please,” she moaned as I pushed her legs apart to get closer, my nose tracing along her legs, her thighs, and then back to her pussy. Her leg wrapped around my shoulder to get a better position.