The Beautiful Game

Chapter Twenty One - Lou

"I know baby, I know." My God.

God, he couldn't possibly know. He couldn't possibly know the power he had over me in this moment. If he hadn't been behind me, supporting me with his towering frame, I'm pretty sure I'd have melted to the ground by now. The confident, playful girl who'd teased him in the mirror behind the bar had liquified the moment he'd approached me on the dancefloor. There was nothing but desire and dark motivation in his eyes when he'd reached me, the determined set of his shoulders and muscle twitching in his jaw, he'd stared down at me like I was an opponent.

It wasn't until I'd turned around and he'd pulled me against him that I realised this hadn't been about fighting, at all. 

I couldn't stop myself from moving, desperate for the warmth and contact from his solid chest pressed against my back, the perfect weight of his hands coasting over my body; to soothe and claim me all at once. My body writhed against Carter's of its own volition. My body had betrayed me, it knew exactly what it wanted, who it wanted, without consulting my brain.

I'd never craved a mans hands on me like this before. I'd been attracted to people before, sure. I'd kissed guys before, and I understood what it felt like when a guy wanted to touch me; however, Carter's hands, his lips against my throat, was more. It was so much more.

I hadn't realised how effected he was until a slight shudder ran through his body, and my breath hitched as I felt it in all the places we were connected, especially the undeniable hard length in the front of his jeans. On impulse, I pushed back even harder against him, earning a raspy chuckle against my neck.

He held me and moved against me like it was his right. Like I was his.

I could tell he was restraining himself, he wanted me to feel everything, to learn how we felt together. I closed my eyes and felt his movements, they were precise and intentional as if to chastise me, teaching me that we could have been doing this the whole time.

The slight squeeze of my hip. I know you want me.

A small nip against my earlobe. What took you so long? 

In this moment, joined together on the dark dancefloor, I couldn't string a goddamn sentence together, let alone think of the reason why I'd denied this. Denied him.

I couldn't even really hear the music anymore, just the blood pounding through my ears as my heart raced, and Carter's satisfied male groan as I turned my head, my mouth seeking his. I think I'd still be able to hear that groan even in death.

I searched for his lips, desperate to pull another sound from him like that.

I felt nothing for a moment, long enough that I opened my eyes, to find him mere inches away, staring back at me. I try to use the hand that had wound itself into the soft hair at the base of his neck to pull him towards me, feeling a scowl on my face as he resisted. My attempts and frustration only made him smile.

"Why aren't you kissing me?" I was so wrapped up in him that I wasn't even remotely embarrassed by my directness. I don't think I could even blame it on the alcohol, at this point I was just blind drunk on Carter Hughes himself.

"Not here." He simply said, before he grabbed my hand and began making his way off the dancefloor and towards a glowing green exit sign at the back of the club.

Confused and with legs like jelly I followed him towards the exit sign, his long legs ate up the distance to the door and I had to almost run to keep up with his agile strides.