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“I wouldn’t dream of it, good sir. I’m merely attempting to provide adequate social lubrication to make sure you enjoy yourself. It appears you need some help to separate you from the wall.”
Our shots arrived, and I held mine up, waiting for him to clink his to it. He sighed, but lifted his glass all the same, and met my gaze with gleaming eyes. “Okay, but last one. I need to drive home tonight.”
We tipped our shots back, and I resisted the urge to shudder—the second shot of liquor was much worse than the first.
Smiling instead, I tugged on his hand. “That’s fine, because now it’s time for our dance.”
“Hey, I don’t recall agreeing to dance.”
“Didn’t you read the contract? I bought you two shots and a beer. You owe me a dance.”
“Pretty sure if I used that on a woman, I’d get charges filed against me.” Despite the serious words, his expression remained playful. “Plus, it’s an open bar, so you technically didn’t buy me anything.”
No sense in telling him I paid for the entire party, drinks included. It would just ruin the vibe.
“Quit stalling and get moving, soldier,” I replied instead.
“Airman.”
“What?”
“I was in the Air Force, not the Army. Therefore, Airman would be the most appropriate term of address.”
“How about I stick with Captain America?”
“Captain would actually be correct, but my last name isn’t America.”
I rolled my eyes. “Then enlighten me, sir. How should I address you, exactly?”
“Captain Right.”
The laughter tumbled from my lips. “Right? As opposed to Captain Wrong? That’s a line I’ve not heard before.”
Jake cracked a wide smile. “I’ve heard it once or twice. But no, my last name is Wright, with a W.”
“Fine, Captain Wright, it’s time for you to report for duty on the dance floor. No more stalling!” I added when he grumbled. “You can bring your beer. Just come on already.”
I tugged harder on his hand and he finally started moving. Jake’s fingers were warm and smooth against mine, and electric tingles spread up my arm from the contact. Hot blood raced through my body—I could feel my pulse in my neck, the flush of pleasure from my conquest combining with the heat from the liquor.
I dragged him out onto the dance floor where we were surrounded with small groups of people doing various interpretations of dancing. Jake’s expression was placid, but it seemed frozen in place, like a studied impression of calm. Meanwhile, a vein throbbed in his temple, and his gaze remained distant while he swayed awkwardly.
“Hey, just relax. You’re not getting graded on your dance skills, you know. This is supposed to be fun.” I got his attention and smiled, moving my body to the pulsing music.
“Look, I never claimed to be an excellent dancer. This is what you get.” He took a long pull of his beer and narrowed his eyes, doing a deliberate side-together step like he was performing some stiff approximation of a line dance.
A snort burst from my lips. “Anything can be awkward if you make it awkward. And anything can be cool if you own it.” To demonstrate my point, I copied his steps but added my own flair, making the movement fluid and sexy.
“You got me,” he admitted. “I make everything awkward. I’m ceding the point, you win. I’ll go back and hold up the bar.”
“Not so fast.” I grabbed his hand, turning my back to him and placing his palm on my hip. “Just move along with me.”
I knew the moment the alcohol kicked in. Or at least the moment he finally relaxed and went with it. His fingertips dug in to my flesh, squeezing my hip and drawing my body closer to his. I felt the heat of him behind me, his other arm wrapping around to press against my opposite hip bone. I had no idea what his expression looked like, but I imagined a face of pure concentration and it cracked me up.
Abruptly, the fast song ended and the next track was slower, more sensual. I disengaged his hand from my hip and turned in the circle of his arms, catching him biting that lip again. My pulse pounded, and I wrapped my arms around his neck, drawing closer to him while we switched to swaying back and forth in tune with the melody. His cologne was clean and woodsy, with a note of sweetness.
“Now this is more my speed,” he admitted with a small curl of his lips. His gaze was soft, his breath warm on my cheek.
I batted my lashes at him. “What, you meanslow?”
