Free I See London 1 by Chanel Cleeton Page B

her eyes. “Stop being such a baby. I don’t dance on the floor like everybody else.”
    Of course she didn’t. I stared back at our table—Samir was still ensconced with the group of girls. What the hell. I climbed up to the platform.
    “This is such a bad idea,” I muttered under my breath.
    Ignoring me, Fleur began dancing to the music, moving her hips in a way I could only hope to emulate. My gaze roamed over the crowd. People were looking at us. Girls were staring at us enviously; a group of guys grinned, lifting their glasses in a silent toast. A rush of power ran through me. I moved closer to Fleur, moving my body to mimic her moves. Our hips swayed to the beat of the music, our bodies nearly flush with each other. We were putting on a show and judging by the whistles we were getting from the crowd, they liked it. A photographer came over and snapped our picture. Fleur threw her arm around me, pressing a kiss on my cheek.
    The flash went off.
    So this is what it was like. This is what it felt like to be wanted. To be one of the cool kids.
    I fucking loved it.
    I grinned at Fleur, too carried away by the moment to be pissed with her. She had a point—on top of the platform it was impossible not to feel as though you were on top of the world. She flipped her hair back, tossing me a smug little smile. She was definitely enjoying herself as much as I was. There was power here, power in being a girl, power I’d never realized before.
    I was drunk on it now.
    I locked eyes with Samir across the room. He sat nursing a drink, the girl finally dislodged from his lap. He wasn’t smiling. The force of his stare surprised me.
    This time I didn’t look away. I met his gaze head-on, shaking my ass to the music. Fleur grabbed my hand, pulling me into a twirl—she was definitely a little drunk—and then I was facing Samir again. He hadn’t stopped staring.
    I didn’t care.
    I didn’t want to be the lame girl everyone walked all over—I wanted this feeling, this rush, to last forever. I jerked my gaze away from Samir, passing over the crowd until it rested on—
    A very tall, hot guy in a black jacket. Hugh.

Chapter 11
    Our eyes locked across the crowded club. Hugh’s lips spread into a wide grin as he nodded his head toward me.
    Fleur nudged me. “Aren’t you glad you came up here and danced? Now he sees he has competition.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Look.”
    I followed her gaze. Sure enough, guys were standing near the platform, watching us dancing. Hugh made his way through the crowd, walking toward the platform.
    “Hi, gorgeous.”
    I grinned, relishing the sound of his crisp British accent. He was so hot. And I was ready for him. “Hi.”
    “Can I give you a hand?”
    I took his outstretched palm, putting my hand in his. Our fingers locked as he pulled me down from the platform, one hand firmly on my waist. As I slid down, our bodies brushed against each other.
    “Fancy seeing you here.”
    I grinned. “I wondered if you would be here tonight.”
    “I’m glad I am. Can I get you a drink?”
    His hand was so much larger than mine; it was impossible not to feel tiny in his presence. I liked it. I liked everything about him. We walked to the bar together.
    He ordered our drinks and guided me to a bench near the DJ booth. He draped his arm around my shoulders, his lips just skimming my ear. His hand played with the ends of my hair, the backs of his fingers barely touching the exposed skin above my collarbone. His touch was soothing…and not. It felt like the start of something. I just wasn’t entirely sure what.
    Hugh pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting mine. “I’ve been wanting to touch you since the first day we met.”
    Holy shit.
    “Here.” He pressed a swift kiss to my neck. “And here.” His lips grazed my skin. “And definitely here.” Hugh’s head leaned in closer, his minty breath filling my nostrils. His lips brushed against mine. I opened my mouth slightly, a sigh