The Bad Boy, The Sat Nav and Me

Chapter 16 - Dancing Dipsticks and Dangerous Dogs

                He pulled me up onto the stage and I watched his feet, trying to follow his forward and backwards movements. It wasn’t long before he grinned and held my hand up, allowing me to twirl underneath. Chuckles erupted from his chest and I grinned, copying his footwork. The man behind joined in on our little dance number and the guitarist picked up the speed of the music. When the song ended, the man gave me a little bow and placed his hat on my head.

                “Oh, it’s okay,” I assured, taking it from my head and putting it back on his. He held his hand out and put it back on, patting my shoulders and gesturing for me to get down. Shrugging, I did exactly that.

                When I joined the table again, they were all looking at me like I just said that I was having George Michael’s baby.

                “What?” I asked, patting the trilby hat. They just shook their heads and Hunter tapped his lap. I sat down and started work on my soup, which for the record, was gross.

                “Come on,” Hunter whispered, patting my thighs and pushing us up. The rest of the guys didn’t even seem to notice us leave as we went back to the hotel room and sprawled across the bed. He laid back, watching me as I kicked off my shoes and hopped onto the bed, sitting on his waistline.

                Sighing, he looked at me and brushed the hair from my face with a small smile. I returned it, catching his hand and kissing his knuckles. His eyes flickered up to meet mine as he moved his hand from my own, running his along my collar bone teasingly slowly until it reached the nape of my neck. That was when his fingers tangled in my hair and he pulled me down for a kiss, taking all the air out of me.

                It wasn’t long before he’d rolled us over and had taken the hat from my head, resting it on the bedpost before attacking my neck with his soft caress. Just as I was about to remove his shirt, the floor flung open, almost shooting off its hinges. Dylan and Seb were standing in the doorway, panting and sweating.

                Hunter didn’t seem to share my embarrassment about being caught in our compromising position, he just grunted and rolled off me, making it clear that they had interrupted something.

                “As much as I love you foiling our bedsheets,” Dylan started, leaning on the doorframe. “We have a little problem outside,” he finished. I frowned, pushing myself up and brushing off any signs of a make out session. Which, judging by the looks on the boy’s faces, they wouldn’t forget about for a while.

                “What’s happened?” Hunter asked, annoyingly, with a husky tone to his voice, sending the boys into another laughing frenzy.

                “Not much, darling. Lee and Alfie are about to be murdered,” Dylan cooed, doing a poor impression of Hunter’s voice. Furrowing my brows, I turned to the window but couldn’t see any sign of them on the street.

                When I turned back around, Hunter had thwacked Dylan on the back of the head and was stalking out of the room and down the corridor.