"The sunlight claps the earth, and the moonbeams kiss the sea: what are all these kissings worth, if thou kiss not me." - Percy Bysshe Shelley

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Silas's POV

She stood there, with him.

That bastard was smiling like an idiot while she lay her head to rest on his chest.

My hands tensed, unknowingly gripping the waist of the person I'm dancing with.

I don't even know her fucking name.

Reeba?

Rachel?

Rhinoceros?

I don't fucking know and I don't fucking care.

She gasps when she feels my hand tighten around her and her smile widens when she meets my eye.

She gives me a knowing look but I just scowl at her.

"Would you like to take this party upstairs?" she asks, trying to act seductive but my mind has gone into overdrive.

I've been dancing with this girl for what seems like hours and all I want to do is sit down and settle my whirling thoughts.

"No," I state simply.

Her seductive smile vanishes, replaced by a deep glare. "I just paid half a million dollars for you, so the least you can do is show me some respect."

I smirk.

"Well, I'm so sorry, but what are we doing right now?" I ask, looking at her straight in the eye for the first time since the auction.

"We're dancing."

"Yes, and was that not the prize you paid for," I respond. "You pay money, I give you a dance. That's what I've done."

With impeccable timing, the music changes, and I quickly let go of her waist. "Oh, look, we're done now. I believe you got what you paid for. Good night."

I nod my head to her but before I can leave, she marches right in front of me. "Do you even know who I am?" she asks, her arms crossed in front of her chest, accentuating her cleavage.

"No, and I don't want to know."

She scoffs, a smug look now plastered onto her face. "Well my dad is Frank Aldridge." She looks at me all smug as if that name was supposed to ring a bell.

It doesn't, and I just continue to stare at her before getting bored and turning around.

But nope, she doesn't allow it, quickly stepping in front of me again. "As in, the richest real estate agent in the country." I ensure that my face is unreadable, however, my mind is going a mile a minute.

Frank Aldridge. I've been trying to set up a meeting with him for months, hoping to settle a contract with some of his land in New York.

Jesus, this bitch is that man's daughter.

Fuck.

"Okay, thank you, good to know." I try to sidestep her again, but this girl just doesn't give up.

"Well, I'm sure daddy would love to know that the CEO of Sanders Corp was a complete asshole to his little girl." A smirk settles onto her lips. "Haven't you been trying to contact him for months?" she asks, her voice now as a innocent as a baby deer.

My jaw ticks in my mouth but I don't let up. "Excuse me, Ms. Aldridge, but I have other matters that I must attend to. Please, enjoy the rest of the party."

And with that note, I turn around and saunter to a waiter in front of me.

My mood has now plummeted to the pits of hell.

I just pissed off the daughter of the richest real estate agent in the country, and my mind continues to replay the image of Wilson dancing with that motherfucker. Safe to say, I'm fucking pissed.

God, I need a drink.

When I look up, I notice her going to the same waiter I am, and again, that godforsaken image of her dancing with someone else flashes across my mind.

The only person she should be dancing with is... well I don't know, but definitely not him.

Quickly sidestepping the waiter, I place myself right in front of her.

She seems a bit dazed, and when she slams into my chest, only confirms my theory.

She crashes into me quite hard, and I notice her hand going to her nose.

"I need to speak with you." She's still holding her nose but I don't pay it any mind. "Privately."

"Um, okay."

Leading up the stairs, I walk into an empty room filled with discarded chairs and tablecloths. She follows close behind me, and when we're both inside, I close the door and face her.

What the fuck am I going to say?

We stand there for a minute, me trying to think of why I brought her here.

"Um, sir, you wanted to speak with me?" she says, as if I don't fucking I know that.

"Yes," I say. "Why are you dancing? You should be making sure that this event doesn't turn into shit." She looks at me incredulously. "Is that not your job?"

"Yes, sir," she says, and I can feel a rise coming from her. I can tell she's trying to calm her emotions down before speaking. "I had checked that everything was as it should be before deciding to dance."

Shit.

"It was just one dance." She's breathing heavily but I can't hear her over my thoughts.

"Well, you were dancing with an employee," I reply, finally figuring out what to say next. "Dating amongst co-workers is strictly forbidden."

It wasn't, until now.

"Oh, Ryland and I aren't dating, he just-"

"It doesn't matter, Ms. Wilson. You do understand what dancing with someone implies, do you not?" I question, my voice rising slightly.

"Sir, it was just a dance, nothing more-"

"God, you're so stupid." I rake my hands through my hair. How the fuck does she not know that when a man asks someone to dance, they have something more in mind?

She lets out a small huff before meeting my eye and glaring at me. "You know what, sir. You don't get to call me stupid."

I'm taken aback for a moment but she continues. "I busted my butt off trying to make this event perfect for you. I made absolutely positive that everything was perfect before deciding to dance. Not to mention the fact that you pulling me here prohibits me from doing my job, which you so kindly brought up."

She takes a deep breath before continuing. "You can't say I'm stupid when all I've ever done for the past month was try to make sure I did my job perfectly. So that you can't say that I'm stupid or dumb or incompetent. You just can't."

Her voice breaks on the last word, and the sound shatters something inside of me. Everything is so silent that I can practically hear my heart thumping wildly in my chest.

Looking up, my chest aches when I see tears start to well up in her eyes. Those beautiful eyes that shouldn't have fucking tears in them.

She's taking deep breaths, no doubt trying to calm herself before saying something else, or waiting for me to say something or do God knows what.

But all of that doesn't matter. Because in two steps, I'm right in front of her, so close to her that I can feel her breath on my chest.

I grasp her face with my hands and swallow her gasp of surprise with my lips.

I can tell she doesn't know what to do.

Hell, I don't even know what I'm fucking doing. All I know is that I've dreamt of these lips on mine. How her lips feel, how they taste.

And it's fucking amazing.

I move my lips against hers, but she doesn't respond back. She's as stiff as a board, as if paralyzed by shock.

Trailing my hands down to her waist, I pull her towards me, her body now flush against mine.

And in that moment, it's as if she finally releases, melting under my arms.

She kisses back softly, gently, and I reciprocate. Her palms trail up my arms and she grips the hairs on the nape of my neck.

The kiss is agonizingly slow, as if one quick movement will disturb everything.

I continue to move my lips, as she does the same, all the while, my hands grip tighter around her waist. She lets out a soft moan that only intensified my situation down below.

I want to hear that sound again.

God, this dress is so fucking beautiful on her.

And she feels so fucking amazing.

All of a sudden, it's as if a switch has been flipped and she stiffens. Her shoulders tense and her lips stop moving.

I can't seem to find what's wrong until open my eyes and see those tears again. One tear manages to escape her eyes and trail down her cheeks but I stop it.

Holding her face in my hands, I place my lips on her cheek and kiss the tear away as my other hand swipes on the traffic of salty droplets now cascading down her face.

She continues to cry, and I continue wipe them away, either by my lips or my thumb, I don't fucking care. I just want to get rid of all of them as fast as possible.

Her lips are trembling, and my heart fucking shatters. Why am I such an asshole?

"Please don't waste your tears on me," I whisper, my breath fanning her face.

She shakes her head. "Well don't make me." Her hands reach over mine and we just stand there as I cradle her face and she wraps her fingers atop my knuckles.

After a few minutes, her tears dry and I don't want to leave. I want to stay in this bubble where I can cradle her face and kiss her senseless.

"I don't deserve you," I mumble.

She gives a small smile before saying, "Well, I'm glad you're self-aware."

I laugh. A real laugh. I stand there, holding a girl who hasn't left my mind for the past five weeks laughing like a complete idiot.

I haven't laughed in years.

"Yeah," I sigh.

"You have a nice laugh," she whispers, leaning into my hands.

I shake my head. How the hell can she say I have a nice laugh when I'm an absolute asshole to her?

After a while, I finally let go of her face and my hands feel devoid of warmth. My palms itch to feel her soft skin, to taste her lips again.

"Why did you do that?" she murmurs.

I shake my head. "I don't know."

"Do you regret it?" What?

"Fuck no."

"Okay." She breaths out a sigh.

"Do you?" Please say no, please say no.

"No."

Thank fuck.

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