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“This is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Really? Do you do this often?”

“Do what?” he asked with a frown.

“Sway women with your sultry music, then offer them a drink whilst staring deeply into their souls with your sexy green eyes, in order to get their names.”

“Sultry music? Sexy green eyes? Are you sure you aren’t the one that does this often?” He grinned so wide it was contagious.

Damn him.

“You’re good.”

“I’m sure you’re better.”

Oh damn him to hell.

“Dance with me,” he said, extending his hand.

“I may be black, but I have no rhythm what so ever,” I informed him. “I’m a terrible dancer, and I mean awful. I’ll step on your toes—”

He didn’t seem to care, because he took my hand anyway, and I shivered at his touch… I bloody shivered, as he led me towards the middle of the dance floor and pulled me closer.

“You’re going regret this,” I told him.

“Believe me, that’s not possible,” he whispered, spinning me around until my back was pressed against his chest.

I stopped breathing. I was afraid if I did, I would moan. I could feel him, all of him, behind me.

“Just relax, give in to the music,” he whispered into my ear, and once again it was like I had no control over my body.

He’s definitely done this before, I thought to myself. But I didn’t say anything. I just lifted my arms up and wrapped them around him as the music blasted around us. His hands softly grazed over my thighs.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“That’s because I still haven’t told you,” I whispered, turning back to him. His hands went to my waist and we both stared at each other.

I really couldn’t take it anymore. Maybe it was the alcohol, or because he was insanely attractive, or because I just wanted to feel something, but I closed the gap between us. That was all the invitation he needed to take charge.

His arms wrapped around me, and his hands found a position on my neck as he drew me in for a kiss. He tasted amazing. Reaching up, I grabbed him by his hair and pulled him closer. I wanted… needed more of him. Before I knew it, I was pressi

ng myself against him.

Releasing his hair, my hands slowly wandered up under his shirt and I savored the feel of his smooth, rock hard, washboard abs, while his warm, almost feverish, hand cupped my breast, relaying a promise of things to come.

Finally, we broke away from each other for a moment so that we could breathe. I wanted him so badly, I would have taken him right there on the dance floor.

“My name is Thea,” I whispered, and he smirked.

“Your place or mine, Thea?”

“You think you’re going to get lucky?” I asked him, and he kissed me again. The moment he did, I moaned into his mouth and gripped onto his hair. But he pulled away all too soon.

“I think I’ve already gotten lucky,” he smiled.

“Your place it is then,” I whispered, and he took my hand.

I barely remembered to grab my purse before he led me out of the club. By the time we got into his car, we both were trembling. As we drove through the city’s streets, I took the time to admire his profile in the intermittent glow of the passing streetlights. His fingers gently traced patterns along the sensitive skin of my thigh. It was such a small, mindless action, yet still my breath caught in my throat and my mind went blank. Before long, my hand wandered into his lap and I groped him through his pants. He didn’t say a word as we drove, but I could feel his mounting excitement.

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