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She huffs out a laugh. “At least you’re not calling me ‘ma’am’ anymore.”
“Yeah, it is weird calling someone the same age as my sister ‘ma’am’.”
We make our way through the crowd to the dance floor. “So how old are you, Tank?”
I take a step forward and pull her into my arms. Damn, she’s warm, has curves in all the right places, and molds against me perfectly. I feel a thrill shoot through me. And by Jess’s sharp intake of breath, I’d say she feels the same. I can’t remember the last time I was excited about spending time with anyone other than my sister, Dylan. That’s totally different, of course. And most of the time she’s a pain in my ass, anyway.
“Isn’t it rude to ask people their age?”
“Only if you ask a woman her age. But since you know mine, it only seems fair I know yours.”
I pull her in tighter, enjoying having a woman in my arms. It’s not like I don’t hook up when I get the chance, it’s just that when I do, it’s to find a release. I haven’t engaged with a woman since—
I shake the thoughts from my mind. “Thirty.”
“Ah, the dirty thirties. Is it as promising as it sounds?”
Is she flirting with me? Don’t be an ass, Tank. You haven’t been out of the game so long that you don’t know when someone is flirting with you.
“Isn’t this dance to try and figure out if I’m a serial killer? This line of questioning could be bad if I am.”
“Nah, I knew you were a good guy the minute you tried to get rid of me. If you were a serial killer, you would’ve engaged me right away.”
I swallow a laugh at her logic.
“So why are we still dancing?” I ask. My hand is resting just above her ass. She shuffles in a bit closer and swallows nervously.
“Because I’m trying to work up the guts to ask you to take me home and fuck me.”
Jesus, I wasn’t expecting this!My cock stirs to life, and the twinkle in her eye tells me she can feel it.
“My boyfriend dumped me a few months ago for a guy. I didn’t see it coming. Honestly, I’m happy for him, but my ego took a smidgen of a knock, and I haven’t been able to get back into the swing of things. Tonight was supposed to be about me getting back on the horse, so to speak. What about it, Tank? Wanna help me get back on the horse?”
It all comes out of her mouth in a nervous rush, and her cheeks stain a rosy pink. She’s fucking beautiful, and more than that, she’s witty and funny and intriguing as all hell. I don’t want her to be nervous because what she just said is hot as hell, and fuck me if she isn’t a good salesperson. I cup her face in my hands and gently place my lips against hers. I taste her delicious mouth and want to taste more of her. When I pull back, she’s inhaling gulps of air.
“I’d love to take you home and fuck you.”
“Oh good, because I’m not wearing any panties, and I think I’m about to drip down my leg.”
Fuuckk.
“How far away is your place?”
“Fifteen minutes.”
“And you’re sure you wanna do this?”
“I’ve just told you I’m about to drip down my legs. What do you think? Are you not up for it?” Rejection flashes across her face, but just as quickly, she slides on an impassive expression.
“I’m in the middle of a dance floor, and I’m hard. What do you think?”
“I think we’re wasting time when you could be inside me.”
“I agree.”
