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“Don’t stop dancing on my account.”
Ah, shit. A voice to match the body, all dark and husky. Big surprise. I think my knees might actually buckle, because his hand—giant too, just like the rest of him—shoots out, gripping my waist, steadying me.
“You haven’t had too much to drink, have you? I counted three beers and two shots, but you are a tiny little thing, so I suppose that could be enough to tip you right over the edge.”
Like crushed velvet, his voice is smooth and rich. Desperate to feel it against my skin, instinct draws me closer. I realize I’m still not talking when his grin just keeps growing, all crooked and broad. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
“Unless you’ve been drinking for much longer than you’ve been here. I’ve had my eyes on you all night; I know I didn’t miss a single one of those drinks.”
I blink up at him, and when those dark brows quirk up above those piercing eyes of his, waiting for me to either confirm or deny his suspicions, I feel a smile start to spread across my face, pulling those dimples of mine into my cheeks. “Might have had a few drinks before I came.”
His eyes glisten with mirth as they drift over my body. “How many more before you come again?”
I don’t even attempt to bite back my smile when realization hits, the innuendo in his words clear. I do, however, swat his shoulder. “That was good.”
“I know,” he says with a devilish wink.
The liquid courage warming my body from the tips of my toes to the blush in my cheeks has me stepping into him, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth. “Did you come over here to dance with me?”
Closing the remaining distance between us, his warm fingers grip my hips. “I’d love to dance with you.” Flipping me around, his body molds to mine as we start moving together. “Love to do more than just dance with you.”
The wobble in my knees is back, as is the gentle throb of the space between my thighs. The voice in my head is chanting, reminding me of why I came here tonight: to have a good time with my girlfriends and go home alone, possibly with a pitstop at the McDonald’s drive-thru for a late-night McFlurry.
But his body feels amazing on mine. He’s hard but soft somehow, warm hands sliding over my hips, my belly, my arms, leaving a blazing trail in their wake. My body is tingling everywhere and I’m pretty sure he knows it.
“I know you didn’t come here with anyone but your girls,” he whispers in my ear, “but do you have someone waiting for you at home?”
“No.” Just the aforementioned ice cream.
His hand glides along my jaw, turning my face to his. “No? I find that incredibly difficult to believe.”
“I just broke up with my boyfriend,” I accidentally blurt. Don’t know why I’m telling him this. I blame the shots, which means I blame Charlee.
“Hmm. Pity.”
“Is it?” I ask with a cheeky smile. “Because the look on your face says otherwise.”
His lips part on a breathy chuckle. “Caught me. Who broke up with who?”
“I did.” He’s so close. All I can focus on are his full lips, and I’m dying for a taste.
“And why’s that?”
Honestly? I don’t know how to answer this. Admitting to someone other than my family and closest friends that my boyfriend cheated on me makes me feel inferior, and I hate that. It makes me feel worthless and weak, and I can’t deny that I’ve spent the last week wondering what it was that made me not good enough.
I drop my gaze, looking for a lie, but I’ve never been good at lying or thinking on my feet. Somehow, I think this man holding me suspects that, because his thumb sweeps across my cheekbone, drawing my eyes back to his. And something there has me opening my mouth and spilling the truth.
“He cheated on me,” I admit in a whisper.
The grip on my hip tightens and those smooth chocolate eyes peering down at me flicker. “Somebody cheated on you?”
When all I can do is nod, he releases my face, his gaze softening. I think this is when he’s going to lose interest, validate my feelings of inferiority, so I start to pull away. But his hands slip over my stomach, keeping me tight against him as we dance. The music is fast but he moves slowly, guiding my hips along his, my entire body buzzing under his touch.
“Fuck him. You’re better off.”
I snort a laugh, enjoying the odd sense of ease that rolls over me, bringing a calmness to my storm. “I’m inclined to agree with you,” I tell him, wrapping my palm around the curve of his neck. He laughs along with me and before I know what’s happening, his lips touch my shoulder, and my mouth opens with a sharp inhale. My body screams yes while my brain tells me to run for cover. “Look, I…I’m really not looking for anything right now. I mean…it was only last weekend.”
“Mhmm,” he murmurs against my shoulder. “We’re not doing anything wrong. Just having a little fun. I am, at least. Aren’t you?”
