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Now she was dancing.
Walker was turning her around the floor as if he had total control of her body. His fingers were a firm brand against the base of her neck and he held her so near his body that she had to follow his movements.
“Wow. You’re a strong lead, Walker.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“Really. That’s...” Her surprise melted into a wet, warm mess of thoughts about what he’d be like in bed. His movements were so sure. So strong. Not an ounce of hesitation in his step. He moved her where he wanted her to move and made her feel as if she was gliding gracefully under his hand. They turned round and round the floor. He never let her hesitate.
She wanted him between her legs. She wanted his hand holding her steady for his thrusts instead of his steps.
“God,” she whispered.
“What?” Walker responded. She realized the music had ended and he’d guided her to a stop.
She shook her head as the band took up a slower pace, and Walker’s hand slid down to the small of her back to ease her into a slow dance.
“This is nice,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. “It feels like a date.”
She smiled and realized she wasn’t done teasing him, after all. “A date? That can’t be right.”
“Why?”
“I don’t date cowboys anymore. Not since college.”
“Why not?”
She chuckled and leaned up to brush her mouth along his jaw. “Because, Walker...I have it on good authority that cowboys don’t go down.”
She heard his breath suck in in surprise; then his chest shook on a rumble of laughter. “Who told you that?”
“Some rodeo cowboy I went out with once.”
He shook his head and looked down at her. His hand slid lower on her back until his fingers were resting against the top of her ass. “Darlin’,” he drawled, “you’ve been dating the wrong cowboys.”
She started to laugh, but lust crashed through her at the thought of Walker’s beard brushing her thigh, his tongue sliding along her most sensitive spots. But she was determined to be cool. “You like doing that, Walker?” she murmured, brushing her cheek against his beard, trying to imagine it was her thigh feeling that softness.
“You have no idea how much I like it.”
God. She was wet. Her nipples were hard. She wanted to pull Walker outside into the night, shove him against the barn wall and make him touch her. Make him feel what he’d done to her.
This was ridiculous. This man was a damn menace to society. She couldn’t believe he was allowed to walk around free, spreading his sex charm all over unsuspecting women.
He guided her toward the edge of the dance floor, pulling her through the crowd to a quieter spot near the wall. “You’re such a tease, Charlie. I think you take pride in driving me crazy. I want you. You don’t have to tease me anymore. I give in. I’m fine with any limits you want, just...”
Was that what he thought? That she wanted limits? Ha. Good. Better than him knowing the truth: that she’d do anything to have him right now. Anything.
“Let me come over tomorrow,” he whispered. “Please.”
“Tomorrow?” she croaked. No, she wanted him tonight. She needed him tonight. If he was working late, she’d leave her door unlocked. He could sneak in after midnight. She didn’t care. She’d wait. She’d set her damn alarm. “Not tomorrow,” she said, but her next words were cut off by the sound of Walker’s name. Being said by a woman. Who definitely did not sound pleased.
Walker’s head turned, leaving Charlie blinking in the light his hat had been hiding. “Fuck,” she heard him mutter.
Charlotte eased away from him and immediately spotted the woman she’d seen at the Crooked R with Walker. The blonde stood about ten feet away. Next to her, close to the woman as if they’d been speaking, was Keith Taggert.
Crap.
Charlie and Keith stared at each other in shock. The other woman’s eyes blazed.
