"Want to get something to drink?" He watched her carefully, his expression closed though she saw the lingering heat in his eyes.
Michaela nodded, didn't say a word, and he took her hand, leading her to the back of the club where a cluster of tables and booths surrounded the gargantuan bar. A group of his friends were seated in a large booth, including Trevor, and they joined them, scooting in so close that Michaela was plastered to Austin's side.
She wasn't complaining. His hard thigh pressed firmly next to hers, his body heat ratcheting up her internal temperature another one hundred degrees.
God, it was hot. She lifted her hair away from her neck with both hands, wondered why she hadn't put it in some sort of ponytail and then she felt a faint breeze waft against her sensitive skin.
Michaela turned to see it was Austin, his beautiful lips slightly pursed, blowing across her neck, cooling her down, heating her up. Her sex tingled, her breath caught in her throat when he did it again and she felt the little hairs at her nape move, tickling her.
"You looked hot," he said when their gazes met.
"I...am." In more ways than one.
His mouth curved upward, just on one side, a rather secretive smile that said he knew exactly what she referred to. The air was heavy, and not just from the heat, but with sexual tension. It crackled around them, gave her courage, gave her hope that maybe she wasn't imagining this.
A waitress appeared with a tray of drinks for everyone already at the table and they took turns telling her what they wanted, Austin dropping a ten-dollar bill on the tray to hurry the order. Michaela thought she might die of thirst and was thankful when someone offered a spare glass of water. She gulped it, savoring the cool liquid sliding down her throat, and when Austin nudged her, she offered the glass to him, which he took gratefully.
How could a man arouse her by drinking a glass of water? She had no clue but it was happening, watching Austin's lips curve around the edge of the clear glass. He tipped his head back and drank. Throat working with the movement, his Adam's apple bobbed with every swallow. His neck was tanned, strong and corded with muscle and her mind drifted.
Back to earlier in the afternoon when he'd stood in the hall draped only in the towel. The smile on his face, his hair wet, his skin wet from the shower...
She shivered and he caught it, slowly setting the glass on top of the table. He reached for her hand, his fingers curling around hers.
"Don't tell me you're cold."
She was damp with sweat, her heavy hair stuck to her head, and she had a feeling she probably looked terrible. "I'm not."
His eyes darkened, his other arm slid across the back of the booth seat and his hand landed on her bare shoulder. She held her breath, waiting for his next move.
What was he doing? What was she doing? And why did he look at her like that? As if he wanted to devour her in one bite, consume her, do things to her that she only imagined in her darkest fantasies.
Michaela reared back, desperate for some distance. Okay. Her imagination was running on overdrive. He wasn't looking at her like that. And his fingers weren't stroking her shoulder either. No, it was all in her vivid imagination.
"We're headed to the dance floor," Trevor said, interrupting her thoughts. "You two going with us?"
"We're going to stay here and wait for our drinks," Austin answered for her, giving her shoulder a little squeeze.
"Have fun." Trevor gave them a little wave and the entire group from the table followed him out to the dance floor, leaving her alone with Austin.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked once everyone left.
She nodded, traced her finger down the edge of the sweating glass of water. She didn't want to look at him, was afraid of what she might find there. "I am."
"You're a liar, you know." His voice was soft, hot and melting all over her, and she glanced up, caught him studying her, his head tilted toward her.
"What do you mean?" Had he realized her secret? Did he know how much she'd lusted for him lately? Embarrassing if he ever found out.
"You can dance." His fingers drifted, over her shoulder, down her upper arm and goose bumps followed in their wake. "Very well, I might add."
Only because he had led her so well but she didn't want to admit that, decided to bask in his compliment instead. It was almost too much, though, having him touch her, sitting so close. The hard press of his thigh burned into hers, his arm around her, his body leaning toward hers. He was wrapped all around her, and he didn't even need to be since they had the booth all to themselves.
The waitress suddenly arrived, setting their drinks in front of them with a quick clink of glass, and Michaela grabbed at hers, drinking from it greedily. She needed the bite of the liquor to bring her back to reality, the effects of it to mellow her overactive imagination. She was clearly losing her touch on the real world, and she wanted to get back out on that dance floor as soon as she finished her drink.
She needed to lose herself in the music, in the dancing, maybe find someone else to dance with, maybe Scarlett. Not Austin, no way, he would hold her close again and give her another nudge of his glorious erection, fuel her fantasies and make her think she had a chance.