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I smile, and this time, I feel more confident, like I can handle this. One dance. One song. And it’s for a good cause.
An announcer, with a microphone in hand, stands at the center of the bar. He introduces us as House Theta. Once the song starts, the girls next to me sway to the beat. And I freeze up. Staring at them in horror, I tell myself to move, but I can’t budge. Then, it hits me. I look worse standing up here, frozen in place. So, I find Preston again.
His eyes burn a hole through me. He licks his lips, as if he likes what he sees. I’m dancing for him—and only him. Moving my hips to the beat, I go with the flow, allowing the rhythm to take over. Preston inches through the crowd, until he’s standing below me. I drop to the bar, shaking my ass along with the rest of the girls.
I laugh, and once I do, I can’t stop. This is fun, way more fun than I had realized. All I had to do was lighten up, lower my guard. But everything comes to a screeching halt when someone drops a glass. My shoe collides with a puddle of spilled liquid, and I lose my balance. The sudden disruption causes me to fall forward.
Except my body never hits the floor. Preston’s strong arms wrap around me, his muscles tightening as he holds me. The scent of sweat, musk, and laundry detergent fill my nostrils. He smells so manly I want to stick my tongue out and lick him.
“You okay, Bex?” he whispers into my ear, his voice deep and sensual.
“No, I think I might die from humiliation. I told you this was a bad idea.”
He brushes a strand of hair away from my face, inspecting me. “You were killing it up there before. What happened?”
“Someone spilled their drink. I slid on it and couldn’t grab the pole in time to steady myself.” I run my hand through my hair, frustrated with the turn of events. “They’re going to lose, all because of me.”
He sets me on the floor, keeping his hand on my hip. “Don’t worry about winning. No matter which team wins, the money will help fund a good cause.”
“Yeah, but I feel like I let everyone down.”
“Nah. They’ll get over it. Shannon’s pretty chill. And at least you held up your end of the deal. Now, I know you’ll follow through with any future bets we make.”
“This is the last one,” I say, not sure if I mean it. Because I don’t want this to be the last time I hang out with Preston. “No more dares.”
“You’re no fun, Bex Bryant.” He tilts a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a sip.
I grab it from his hand and gulp down the remainder of its contents. “I’m tons of fun.”
“Prove it,” he challenges.
“How do you expect me to do that?”
“For starters, you can dance with me.”
“How about a drink first?”
He nods. “Deal. What are you having?”
“Whatever you’re ordering.”
“And then you’re mine,” he growls.
A ripple of pleasure shoots through my body.
I’m his.
Chapter Ten
Preston
Rap music cranks through the speakers suspended from the ceiling of The Sixth Floor. The bass vibrates beneath my feet, sending a tremor up my legs. My dick is semi-hard, and it’s not from the sea of half-naked women which surrounds me. Because all I can see is Bex. She has no idea how sexy she can be without even trying.
Her anxious stares and nervous lip biting only make her more real. More my type. Most girls care about my name and what I have to offer them. Not Bex. I find myself lowering my guard around her, telling her things I wouldn’t confess to other girls.
For a split second, I even consider what it would be like to date her. Then I remember her dad’s rules. And his warning. I can’t jeopardize my spot on the team. She deserves better than me.
Bex slides her fingers up my arm, and now she has my undivided attention. Her skin is soft against mine. Flames lick my skin everywhere she touches, her fingers slowly navigating my bicep. She’s rough around the edges, but there’s a softer side to her. A side she keeps hidden.
I lick my lips, and the corners of her mouth curl up into a smile. Taking a sip from the beer in my hand, I suck down the last of it before setting it down on the bar.
“You promised me a dance,” I remind her.
She nods. “How could I forget?”
I take the beer from her and chug the rest of it, leaving it on the bar.
“Hey, I was drinking that,” she shouts over the music, and then smacks my arm.
I grab her hand and pull her into my chest, dragging her far enough into the crowd that we’re in the middle of the dance floor. Tilting her head back, she stares up at the bright strobe lights shining from one side of the room to the other. I watch as she admires the light show above us. She’s so beautiful I could look at her all day.
