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When they got around to the side of the room where they’d left Mack, Calla looked around for him. She felt bad. It was probably bitchy to just leave him and dance off with Liam. She didn’t know what the hell she was doing. She was just going with whatever felt good in the moment—probably a disastrous way to go about things.
When had she ever not thought out everything she did from ten moves back? That was the only way to run a ranch. She had to be on top of all the everyday tasks in addition to putting out whatever inevitable problem cropped up, whether it be a sick cow, a broken section of fencing, hiring and firing ranch hands, or the hundred other things that went wrong on any given day. She’d dropped into bed each night exhausted but unable to sleep because she was worrying about the list of everything she needed to see to the next day.
It was non-stop, dawn to dusk, seven days a week, three-hundred sixty-five days a year. A night like tonight, with no responsibilities and going out just to have fun? Unheard of. She hadn’t been out dancing in years and tonight reminded her just how much she’d always loved it. The most she ever socialized these days was hitting Bubba’s a couple times a week before evening chores so she could actually be around humans other than her ailing, taciturn father and the ranch hands she’d been in charge of.
Liam spun her again and her stomach swooped as he grinned at her and pulled her back into him.
God, every time he did that he drew her even closer to his body afterwards. Her chest bumped his in a way that made her nipples tighten and her sex clench. She gasped and Liam only grinned bigger. He knew exactly what he was doing to her.
And if she was living each day like it was her last, she damn well sure didn’t want to head to the great beyond with her virginity intact. It’d be best to lose it to a man who knew exactly what he was doing, wouldn’t it? There wouldn’t be any awkward fumbling with a man like Liam. If the way he led her so confidently around the dance floor was any indication, he’d be right at home taking the lead in bed. Didn’t they say how a man danced told you a lot about how he was between the sheets?
The second she thought it her cheeks burned but Liam was spinning her out again and banishing any other thought except what it felt like in his sure grip.
That was, until she glanced over and saw Bethany in Mack’s arms.
Her ebullient mood popped like a balloon and her feet got tripped up with Liam’s when he stepped into her and she didn’t step back.
She yelped as she almost went down. Only Liam’s hands gripping her waist saved her from toppling ass over head.
“Sorry!” Liam said, almost shouting to be heard over the music. Then he followed her train of sight to where Bethany was urging Mack into a two-step. The song finished and Calla stood there lamely attempting to get her breath while also forcing herself not to stare at Mack with Bethany. She tried to flash a smile up at Liam. Hadn’t she just been contemplating losing her virginity to him? So why was she reacting so strongly to seeing Mack with her arch nemesis?
Was it just because it was Bethany or would she feel that way if Mack were dancing with anyone? Because as much as she’d admired Liam from afar, it was Mack who’d come up to her first. Him who’d she had the intense moment with at the kitchen sink last night. Him who’d said he wanted to explore things with her. Sexually.
Or maybe she was just stupid, reading far more into all that than he’d intended. Of course when he was presented with a far more tempting option like Bethany he’d jump at the chance.
“Hey asshole.”
Calla’s head jerked to Liam. He was walking up to Mack. Oh crap.
These two guys already obviously hated each other. She was just driving a deeper wedge between them, making everything worse.
She moved to grab Liam’s arm, ready to tell him… What? That she had a headache and was heading to bed for the night?
God, what was she even doing here, wearing this ridiculous dress? It felt like a Halloween costume. She’d had fun playing dress up, but she was not this woman. What the hell had she even been thinking?
Mack’s head swung to look at Liam and then Calla. He dropped his arms from around Bethany.
“You owe this beautiful woman a dance.” Liam’s voice was biting as he addressed Mack. He moved Calla toward Mack with a hand low on her back and it took all her wits not to stumble over her own feet again.
“I do,” Mack said, stepping away from Bethany.
Calla didn’t miss the way Bethany’s eyes narrowed and then went wide with surprise, like she was just recognizing who Calla was. Fair enough. She’d barely recognized herself when she looked in the mirror earlier.
“That I do,” Mack said, smoothly pulling Calla into his arms. The band had switched to a slow song and Mack urged her closer. Calla looked over at Liam even as she raised her arms around Mack’s neck. What exactly was going on here? Was Liam passing her off so he could dance with Bethany?
But Liam turned his back on the other woman, still with a wide smile for Calla. Then he came up behind her until she was sandwiched between the two most gorgeous men she’d ever known.
Calla’s breath caught as Liam’s hands gripped her waist from behind, just above where Mack held her.
It wasn’t until they both started moving in tandem that Calla completely lost the plot of what was going on.
Mack pulled her closer to him so that, like earlier with Liam, her breasts brushed his chest. And then there was Liam’s heat at her back, his hands slipping around the front of her waist as he moved his hips forward until they made contact with Calla’s ass.
Her eyes shot wide and she looked over her shoulder at Liam. There was a wicked gleam in his eye as he looked down at her. She couldn’t hold his gaze and turned her face back toward Mack’s chest. It wasn’t a second until she felt Liam’s breath hot on her ear. “Tonight is all about making you feel good, baby.”
She blinked, feeling light-headed. Her arms tightened around Mack’s neck. Then Mack’s hand was on the back of her head, urging her to lay her cheek against his chest. Turned out she was wrong earlier when she’d thought Mack had no rhythm.
He had plenty, it turned out, when he was dancing in a way he was used to. And damn was he good at it. He notched his legs between hers until the red fabric of her dress strained at the slit. So close that it was almost like she was riding him.
