The Choice

Quinn

A shiver ran through me at his words. I knew exactly what he was implying, and despite my better judgment, I didn't resist as he pulled me closer until our bodies were flush from shoulder to thigh. My heart pounded in my chest, a mix of anticipation and nervousness flooding through me. Surely, he could feel it through the thin silk and cotton of our clothing.

What was I doing? This was my subject, my story. But as we swayed to the music, I found it increasingly difficult to remember why that mattered.

The heat of his body against mine was almost overwhelming, and I could feel the muscles hidden by his dress shirt flexing and pressing into my breasts. The music seemed to swell around us, our movement melding us closer and closer together. His hand slid farther down my back and rested right above my ass, warm and possessive. All the dancing I'd done up until this point that I'd thought had been sexy and hot suddenly felt juvenile and like a show. I'd never been held and mastered in the way Lachlan seemed to do without effort.

"You move beautifully." Lachlan's warm breath tickled my ear, and a shiver ran down my spine. "I don't know why you were hesitant."

Not sure what to say to that, I merely murmured, "Thank you. You're not so bad yourself."

Immediately, I cringed inwardly at the childish sound of my answer, but Lachlan's only response was a rumbling laugh that vibrated throughout my body.

I wanted to memorize every detail of this moment—the way his cologne lingered, a spicy trail along his jaw, the intense focus in his eyes when he looked at me, and the way his warm breath played across my skin. I reminded myself that I was a professional, that this was research, a story I was crafting. But the rational part of my mind was quickly losing the battle against the primal, instinctive part that wanted nothing more than to indulge in this magnetic pull between us.

As if reading my thoughts, Lachlan spoke in a low growl that sent a bolt of lightning down to my core. "I think you're as attracted to me as I am to you, Quinn. We're alone here. No one else can see us. Do you really want to fight it."

I couldn't. The truth of his words hit me like a wall of heat, and I felt myself succumbing to the moment. Our bodies continued to move in perfect harmony, each step precise and purposeful. Lachlan's hold on me tightened, and I felt myself being steered into the center of the room, away from the paintings that adorned the walls--the only eyes on us here in this dimly lit room.

I tried to glance around, and the brief distraction almost cost me my balance—a smirk played across his lips as if he'd planned it. He took advantage of my brief lapse in concentration to tighten his hold even farther, bringing our bodies even closer together. I felt the hard plane of his stomach against mine, his leg pressed between mine, and his long length pushing against my sex. The realization sent a burst of adrenaline through me, and I nearly gasped at the sudden rush of wetness pooling in my panties.

He took the opportunity to lean in, his breath hot on my neck as he murmured, "There's something mesmerizing about you, Quinn. I noticed it the moment I met you."

My skin tingled at his words, and I felt a fluttering in my channel at the admission. The revelation sent my pulse racing. I closed my eyes, the better to focus on the sensation of his lips, warm and firm, against my jaw. His mouth trailed up to my ear, and he whispered, "Let me show you how much I want you."

I felt myself being led backward, and a soft gasp escaped me as my back met the coolness of the wall. Lachlan's body continued to press into mine, and I could feel the strain of his desire through the linen of his pants. He rested his forehead against mine, and I could feel his hot breath on my lips. He held my gaze, and I saw a dark desire in his eyes.

"I want you, leannan. Right here, against this wall. But I need you to tell me you want me." His words heavy with his usually barely noticeable Scottish accent, so close to my lips, caused my knees to weaken. He traced a finger down my neck across my collarbone and my eyelids slipped close.

His words, so close to my lips, caused my knees to weaken. I felt myself being enveloped in a cloud of desire so intense that it was almost painful. Every nerve ending was alive and screaming for me to give in. But a sliver of rationality remained, the memory of my mission keeping me from throwing caution to the wind.

I forced my lids open to search his eyes, the storm of emotions within me reflected in their deep depths. I wanted him. God knows I did. But could I afford to let him know? To give in to this overwhelming desire? I didn't think I had the self-control to stop if we started. And so I stood, my chest heaving, torn between the burning passion that seared my veins and the cool, rational part of my mind that shouted warnings.

Lachlan seemed to understand my internal struggle, the tension coiling tighter within him like a spring. He closed the small gap between our mouths. His tongue traced my upper lip and my breath hitched when I felt the cool brush of metal as well. This enigmatic man had a tongue piercing? Jesus! I felt my resolve crumbling by the second.

He pulled back just enough to murmur, "It's your choice, leannan. But know this—I've never wanted anyone the way I want you."

The hum of the violins seemed to intensify, their sorrowful melody reflecting the ache in my heart at the prospect of denying this passionate connection. How could I resist him? But how could I give in so completely, when there was so much at stake? I closed my eyes again, thoughts racing, heartbeat pounding in my ears, my body sizzling under his touch.

When I opened them again, Lachlan was watching me intently, his own eyes giving away nothing but his burning desire. I wanted to shout, to release the tension that bound me, but the words caught in my throat. And so, I made my choice, guided by the irresistible pull between us, the magnetic connection that seemed to transcend logic and reason.

I kissed him.