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“’Course I do. Come on.” He took Johnny by the arm and turned him around, cursing roundly when some of the beer sloshed out of his cup.
Trey hesitated, then headed in the opposite direction. Away from the dance area people tended to gather in clusters or travel in twos and threes, making it easy for him to spot a solitary figure. There were a few of those, but all male.
Then he spotted her coming his way, the neon light of a bar sign flashing over the sheen of her hair, and everything lifted inside him, his blood coursing hot and fast through his veins. His long, striding walk lengthened even more, carrying him to her.
A smile broke across her lips. “You forgot to say which stage. There happens to be three of them.”
The glistening curve of her lips and the sparkle of pleasure in her eyes acted like the pull of a magnet. When mixed with the pressures of waiting, wondering, and wanting, the combination pushed Trey into action.
His hands caught her by the waist and drew her to him even as he bent his head and covered her lips in a long, hard kiss, staking his claim to her. There was an instant of startled surprise that held her stiff and unresponsive, but it didn’t last. It was the taste of her giving warmth that lingered when Trey lifted his head.
Through eyes half-lidded to conceal the blatant desire he felt, he studied her upturned face and the heightened interest in her returning gaze. He allowed a wedge of space between them but didn’t let go of her waist, his thumb registering the rapid beat of the pulse in her stomach. Its swiftness signaled that she had been equally stirred by the kiss.
“I was just about convinced that I’d have to turn the town upside down to find you,” he told her in a voice that had gone husky.
“It wouldn’t have been a difficult task,” Sloan murmured. “After all, you know where I’m staying.”
“I forgot,” Trey admitted with a crooked smile. “Which shows how thoroughly you’ve gotten to me.”
She laughed softly, paused, then reached up, fingertips lightly brushing along a corner of his mouth. “You’re all smeared with gloss.”
He pressed his lips together and felt the slick coating, but it had no taste to it. “You use the unflavored kind, too.” He wiped it off on the back of his hand. “My sister claims that a man should taste her and not some fruit.”
“You have a sister,” Sloan said, absorbing this personal bit of information about him. “Younger or older?”
“Younger.” By less than two minutes, but Trey didn’t bother to divulge that and have the conversation diverted into a discussion of the twin thing. Instead he took note of the change in her attire—the bulky, multi-pocketed vest and tan pants replaced by a femininely cut tweed jacket and navy slacks. “You ditched the camera and changed clothes.”
“The others were a bit grimy from all the arena dust.” Her matter-of-fact answer made Trey wish that he had taken the extra time to swing by the motel, shower, and change his own clothes, but he’d been too anxious to get here. A quick smile curved her lips, rife with self-mockery. “This is my first street dance,” she said. “So I had to ask the desk clerk what to wear. He assured me it would be very casual.”
“Your first street dance, is it? In that case it’s time I showed you what it’s all about.” Grinning, Trey shifted to the side and hooked an arm behind her waist, drawing her with him as he set out for the dance area.
“I should warn you,” she said, with a sideways glance, “I’m not much of a dancer.”
His gaze regarded her in frank appraisal. “I’m surprised. You have the grace of one.” He guided her through a gap in the row of onlookers, then turned her into his arms, easily catching her off hand. The band was playing a slow song, which suited Trey just fine. “Don’t worry about the steps,” he told her with a lazy smile. “Dancing was invented solely to provide a man with a good excuse to hold a woman in his arms.”
A laugh came from low in her throat, soft and rich with amusement. “Something tells me it was a woman who came up with the original idea. How else would she ever coax a man onto the dance floor?” she teased.
“And something tells me you’re probably right.” Despite the lightness of his talk, the subject was of no interest to him, not with her nearness stimulating all his senses.
There was an awareness of how naturally she fitted herself to his length. Even the light weight of her hand on his shoulder felt right, as if it had always belonged there. The idea wasn’t something Trey questioned—he simply enjoyed it.
Every step, every rocking sway brought them into closer alignment, an unconscious seeking and adjusting to the contours of the other. Trey found it impossible to ignore the round shape of her breasts pressed against him or the evocative stir of her breath along his cheek and neck. Giving in to the building ache in his loins, he released his grip on her fingers and splayed both hands over the hollow of her back. With a slight turn of his head, he explored the silken texture of the sun-streaked strands along her right temple. Some subtle fragrance wafted up, embedding itself in his mind.
All too soon the song ended, and Trey was obliged to loosen his hold, allowing space to come between them.
“Didn’t I tell you dancing was easy?” he murmured.
There was a knowing gleam in her eyes when she met his gaze. “I’m not exactly sure that was dancing.”
“Is that an objection?” An eyebrow arched in question even as he matched the teasing banter in her voice, yet her answer mattered to him—and not in the way it usually did when he was making a move on a girl. This time, Trey realized, he was much more serious than he had ever been before.
“Not really.” And the wide smile Sloan gave him was completely without reservation.
“Good,” he said as the band struck up another tune, much quicker in tempo. “We’re moving on to the advanced version. Are you game to whirl around the floor?”
“Why not,” she agreed with a careless shrug.
He
