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God, he smells good. Clean and spicy with only a touch of whiskey on his lips. Butterflies flutter in my lower belly. I lean in and take a deep breath. How can he smell so delicious?

Everything around me fades away. There’s only him. I’m not sure how much time passes around us while I revel in the feeling of his body moving with mine.

I take another step—a stomp, really. Right onto his foot. I hop back, mortified.

“Are you okay?” I say, loudly enough to catch the attention of another couple near us. The woman gives me a side-eye. What is she looking at? As far as I can tell, she’s just swaying with her dance partner. At least I’m attempting the steps.

He pulls me back, wrapping me into the warmth of his arms. “I’m just fine.”

My breath catches in my throat, and we sway to the music. He rests his hand on the small of my back, guiding me. By the end of the second song, I’m moving with him. It helps that he keeps the steps small and I’m no longer thinking about the movement. My body follows his, moving with him. Like we’re in bed instead of dancing.

It hits me. I’m going to sleep with this man if he asks. One-night stands aren’t my style. Sleeping with strangers is so far out of my comfort zone that I’d normally never even consider it. But damn, Xander, so different from anyone I’ve ever met, tempts me like no other.

The music shifts, changing to something far more line-dancing style than the two-step. My hand still in his, Xander leads us through the growing crowd of conference attendees and other guests back to our table. It’s been taken, of course.

“I’d probably better turn in anyway,” I tell him, voice pitched loudly enough to be heard over the din.

He nods, still not releasing my hand. We weave through the crowd to the bar, and the bartender passes my laptop back to Xander. Instead of giving the computer to me like I expect, he looks down at me for a moment, as if considering something important.

“Can I walk you to your room?” he asks, finally.

I swallow hard and nod.

Far too quickly, we reach my hotel room door, and I have to admit it: I’m not ready to say good night.

He stays close—but not too close. Making his interest clear, but giving me the space I need to decide. I slide the hotel card key into the lock, and it gives way the first try. I open the door a couple of inches, and then I turn back to look at him.

With desire in his eyes, he is truly a sight to behold. I want him. More than I’ve ever wanted anyone like this before. In the back of my brain, the practical me protests that this is not like me. I don’t sleep with men I don’t know. I don’t take chances like that. I control my life with an iron fist. And yet…

“Will you come in?” My voice is low, my eyes searching his.

He hesitates—just for a moment. And then he nods, a quick jerk of his head. “Fuck, yeah.”

His enthusiasm almost makes me giggle, but I tamp it down and push the door open the rest of the way. He follows me in, and the door clicks shut behind us.

I swallow down the inane chatter that threatens to choke me. I’m a twenty-six, dammit. I shouldn’t be this nervous. I look back at him, and something in his gaze steadies me.

Despite the slight hesitation at the door, he looks confident and settled. Desire sparkles in his mesmerizing blue eyes.

But something in my expression must have given him pause. “Are you sure—”

I close the distance between us before he can finish his sentence. Because the truth is, I’m not sure. But I want to be. I go up to my tiptoes to kiss him, and he’s already meeting me halfway. He claims my mouth with his own, desire removing the last bit of hesitation from both of us.

Damn, the man can kiss. A woman could lose her soul to a kiss like this. One of his arms wraps around me, while his other hand caresses the side of my face gently. The contrast of his gentle touch and forceful lips against my mouth, makes me tighten with need. I feel my body already begging for release.

He steps back and pulls his shirt over his head, revealing a muscular chest. The sight takes my breath away. He’s not built like a bodybuilder, his muscles are longer and leaner than that. But he looks every bit as strong.

He kisses me again, this time softly. Then he murmurs in my ear, “Like what you see?”

His teasing draws a laugh out of me, and the last of my worries disappear.

“Heck, yeah,” I answer softly. This is a hotel room, and the walls aren’t paper-thin. But this feels intimate, and part of me fears talking too loud will break that spell.

He steps back again, this time taking my shirt with him. So smoothly, I barely register that the garment of clothing is gone until I feel air on my skin. He walks forward and kisses my lips quickly, before sliding his mouth down my neck to nibble my collarbone.

I moan and slide my hands over his hard chest to wrap my arms around his neck. His stiff length presses into my belly, and I lose the ability to think.

Skillfully, he removes the rest of my clothes. Then he steps back, still wearing his low jeans. His eyes rake over my body, and I shiver beneath his gaze. The intensity of his expression unnerves me, and I almost cross my arms over my breasts.

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