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PROLOGUE
WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING TO ME?
Grayson
Sierra sips back the last drops of her strawberry mojito then licks her lips. “Why is it so hot in here? It’s like 3 billion degrees.”
“It’s definitely hot,” I agree, silently reminding myself that we’re talking about the club, not Sierra. The light sheen of sweat on my skin has nothing to do with the way she looks in that hot-as-fuck form-fitting dress and everything to do with this muggy Miami night. Definitely.
Sierra twists her long, blonde hair in one hand and lifts it from her neck, holding it there as she fans herself. A few strands fall loose, and I have to stop myself from reaching over and brushing them from her bare shoulder. Instead, I slide an ice-cold glass of water across the table towards her. Tonight has been incredible. It’s one of the best nights I’ve ever had with a woman. Sierra and I have danced. We’ve talked. We’ve laughed continuously. And so far, we have managed to ignore this spark that has been kindling between us all night. It’s for the best, I remind myself. No need to complicate things.
But still, there’s a part of me that is itching to kiss her. And I will, before the night is over. I know myself.
As Sierra sips her water and scans the Miami hotspot, my eyes rake over the fuchsia dress clinging to her body. She’s beautiful. Golden-blonde hair, eyes the color of coffee framed by long, dark lashes and a splatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her lips are soft and pillowy, and when she aims her playful grin in my direction, I can feel my heart start to race.
Goosebumps erupt over my skin.
What the fuck is she doing to me?
She’s also flirty and easy-going and way too much fun to talk to. I can already see that she’s nothing like Layla.
Sierra is the kind of girl you play for keeps. She’s not a one-night stand. Lately, one night is about as far as my relationships go. But after tonight, I’m beginning to wonder if it might be time to change that. I know Sierra should be off-limits, but damn do I want to kiss her.
Do I invite her back to my hotel room, or is that too much for a girl I only met three days ago?
And if I do ask her, will she say yes?
I reach across the table, taking her hand. “One more dance.” It’s not a question. I want her in my arms, and this is the best way to make that happen.
“To this song?” Sierra scrunches up her nose and for the record, it’s cute as hell. I laugh and pull her off the stool, noticing the way she fights back a smile. “My friends would never let me live it down if they caught me dancing tothis.”
“Well, luckily for me, they’re not here,” I grin. “There’s a first time for everything.”It’s not the only first I’d like to have with her tonight.
Sierra shakes her head but follows me onto the crowded dance floor. I slip my arms around her waist, then pull her into my chest. Her hands move to the nape of my neck, and I gaze down at her hips squared with mine. The scent of her shampoo fills my nose: coconut and a summer breeze. It is uniquely Sierra. I inhale it in, letting it linger for as long as I can, then dip my face so my mouth is by her ear.
“Change your mind on Santana?” I tease.
She looks up at me with her pretty eyes, pressing her hand against the back of my neck to pull my face closer to hers.
“When pigs fly,” she sasses into my ear as we sway to the Latin music pumping through the speakers.
I chuckle and she tips her head back to look at me, staring at me like she’s daring me to kiss her. I think about it for a split second but manage to resist, knowing that when I do kiss her perfect pink lips, I won’t be able to stop.
So far there is nothing I don’t like about Sierra. Besides the obvious—she’s ridiculously gorgeous—Sierra is a ray of fucking sunshine. Her laugh is contagious. She’s a natural at making small talk. Even though I met her all of 72 hours ago, I feel like I’ve known her for a lifetime. She isn’t a wallflower like some girls. People notice her when she walks into a room—I’ve seen the stares all weekend.
The song changes but we keep dancing.Close.She’s so close to me that I’m sure she can feel my cock in my pants pressed against her hip. Our hands keep finding ways to touch each other—mine drifting to the area just above her ass, hers sliding from my pecs to my abs.
The fight in me is gone. I need a quick taste of her, just for a second, and then I’ll stop, and I’ll keep my mouth to myself for the rest of the night.
Her eyes find mine and she flashes me a devastatingly pretty smile—breezy, relaxed, happy. I soak it in, heart hammering, placing my hand on the curve of her jaw. Then I bend forward to kiss her. I’m millimeters from her lips when the guy dancing next to us knocks into her. His shoulder collides with Sierra’s, and I grab her elbow to stop her from falling.
“I’m so sorry,” the six-foot-something guy yells over the music.Yeah, I am too, buddy.
Moment lost.
“You okay? Do you want to sit down?” I look around the crowded room, noticing that the table we’d been sitting at is now taken. “Or we could get out of here, walk the beach back to our hotel?”
Sierra shifts her gaze to her feet and then back to me, her cheeks flush. She’s sexy as hell. “Fresh air sounds good.”
