Pretending (Westshore Series #1)

Chapter Fifty-Three: Not Dying A Virgin

WARNING THIS IS A LOT OF SMUT LOL

Also not edited YET

My plan was going perfectly so far. Everyone was getting along great and Amy's house was packed for her birthday. The living room was slowly becoming a dance floor and I knew that would be a perfect way to start 'Operation seduce Warner Brooks'. I had to wait my turn though because Warner was currently next to a drunk Amy who was crying over his gift to her. He had gone out of his way to buy her the purse she wanted, even though it had a huge price tag. She started sobbing as soon as she unwrapped it and hasn't let him go since.

Sarah is trying to get Amy to put down the purse but she is still holding it tight to her chest in disbelief. She still has a death grip on Warner's wrist but he still looks content, sitting there with her.

It makes my heart swell to see him go above and beyond for my friends. I could sit and watch them all day long like this.

Warner catches me staring.

The corner of his lips lifts into that stunning smile. I smile, too.

I love you, he mouths.

My smile widens so big, that I'm sure my face is about to crack.

I mouth the words back to him and Amy finally lets go of him. He says one more thing to her before walking over to me. I notice his eyes drift to my legs and back up to my face, his lips quirking up in a smile.

He pulls my small frame to him, embracing me with two strong arms. I rest my cheek on his chest, his body pressed along mine, and I shut my eyes.

His hand lowers to the small of my back, and he dips his head. His lips to my ear, he whispers, "Watching you in that dress all night and not being able to touch you has been quite painful."

I flush and tilt my chin up. "Are you free for a dance then? I'll even let you touch me if you are good." I pull him along to the living room not giving him much of a chance to answer.

Warner and I weave through the crowd of dancers, pressing together. I spin and turn my back to him, his hands cupping under my hips, fingertips settling in the grooves of my hip bones. The music rattles the floor beneath us as I find the rhythm, pleased when he follows it without hesitation. None of that boring guy posturing, where they just stand still and be rubbed up against. Warner and I were actually moving together; like our bodies have been designed for the connection.

I reach my arms back, palms holding onto his shoulders, and rest my head on his shoulder, a soft scratch from his stubble against my temple. Our hips curl together, and one hand remains squeezing my hip as the other meanders up to my ribs in a slow caress that leaves a ticklish, prickling path on my skin.

Warner is a good enough dancer that the more I relax, the stronger his lead is until I am loose and following the coaxing guide of his hands. I shift my feet apart, and his leg fills the space. His breath is hot on my neck, his hands gripping tighter with every slow roll of our bodies in unison.

His thumb strokes against the underside of my breast and before I can react, he spins me to face him. He pulls me flush against him, and now the leg between my thighs is something to grind against. I grip at the collar of his shirt, running my fingertips along the underside, and tip my chin back to meet his eyes.

Warner's lips are parted on a pant and his eyes are hooded, arousal plain to see. I tear my stare away, watching the other dancers over his shoulder, smiling at Abby and Winston who are watching us very closely. Abby grins at me and fake fans herself at our dancing. I might actually need to fan myself, it was getting a bit too hot on this dance floor. Especially with the way Warner and I are dancing.