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“Oh, believe me, I know,” she says as she extends her left hand to me. I appreciate the consideration for my shoulder and even more so that there isn’t a tan line where there should be a ring. “I’m Lexie.”
“Dance with me, Lexie?” I ask, dying to feel her in my arms.
“As much as I would love to, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“I’m not interested in good ideas. I’m interested in you.”
She hesitates for a moment, then begins to laugh. “Does that line really work for you?”
Jesus, have I fucking lost every bit of game I have? I just insinuated the woman was a bad idea.
“Fuck. No. I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.”
“I know, and as much as I would love to take you up on it…”
“Then take me up on it. I’ve had a shit day and you… you’re the only bright spot in it.”
“That one.” A sexy, mischievous smile crosses her lips. “That one works.”
“That’s not a pickup line. It’s the truth.”
Even if I wanted to continue our conversation, the deafening music had made it hard enough to get this far. Besides, this right here, her body pressed against mine, moving to the sensual beat of the music? It’s everything I need and more.
Her hands roam my torso, running over the lines of muscle. Mine, on the other hand, hold on to her for dear life. She feels too good, and this feels too right. I can’t let it go. I won’t.
When the song ends, she leans in, her head angled up to me, and presses a kiss to my cheek.
“Thanks for the dance.”
“Oh, come on. You’re not leaving, are you? We’re just getting started.”
I don’t know why she’s fighting this so hard. Her eyes tell me she’s interested, but there’s something holding her back.
“Are you married?” The one line I won’t usually cross, but for her? For her, I just might make the exception.
“No. It’s not that. It’s…”
I press a finger to her lips. “Be my bright spot, Lexie. Don’t walk away.”
Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to decide.
“Stay Lexie. Don’t go.” Attempting to sway her decision, my hand drops to her waist, and I lean in closer to gently brush my lips against hers. Whatever it takes to sway her decision in my favor.
“Buy me a drink?”
I’ll buy her a damn car if it gets me more time with her.
Setting my hand on the small of her back, I lead us to the bar.
“What are you drinking?”
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“You sure you can handle it?”
“I assure you, I can handle anything you throw my way.”
We’ll see about that. I lean in and give the bartender our order. He’s back in only a couple moments, not even allowing us the chance to talk. I take a glass and hand it to her before taking the other. She clinks her glass against mine, then downs the clear liquid like a pro.
