I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Why would I do that?”
His control snapped just a little, just enough to make him step closer, bodies aligned by a breath, the faintest brush of heat-to-heat. Not touching. Not quite.
But we both felt it.
He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for an hour. “You’re trouble tonight.”
“Maybe I’m learning how.”
He let out a low laugh, low and rough, like it scraped something loose inside him. “Hell. You keep lookin’ at me likethat and I’m gonna forget every damn line I swore I wouldn’t cross.”
“Maybe,” I whispered, leaning in just enough that my lips brushed the sound of his voice, “I want you to forget.”
His eyes closed for one tight beat, like the control cost him something.
Then the music swelled again, the bodies around us shifting, the dance floor becoming its own living thing. But it didn’t matter. Not when he opened his eyes and looked at me like I was the only thing worth seeing.
He didn’t leave. He didn’t step back.
He stayed right there, inches from touching me, every muscle in him drawn tight with the effort not to.
And God help me, I’d never felt more alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I WAS STILLstandin’ there, breath sittin’ too highin my chest, heart hittin’ slow and heavy against my ribs, when she looked up at me again. The music hadn’t changed—hell, nothin’ had—but somethin’ inhersure as hell had. A shift I felt before I could name it.
She stepped in close again, closer than any good sense allowed, the hem of her shirt brushin’ my knuckles like a quiet invitation. Not accidental. Not innocent. Intent lived in every soft sway of her hips, every breath she took inside my space.
“You going keep staring at me,” she murmured, barely hearable over the bass, “or you going say what’s running through your head?”
Damn woman. She said it like she already knew.
My gaze dragged down the warm line of her throat, slow as sin, before climbin’ back up. “What’s runnin’ through my head ain’t fit for polite company.”
“Good thing we’re not in polite company,” she said, that little spark playin’ at the corner of her mouth.
I huffed a laugh—quiet, low, pulled straight from somewhere I didn’t show many people. “You tryin’ to drive me crazy?”
She leaned in just enough for her breath to brush my jaw. “Trying? Chain… I haven’t even started.”
Heat shot straight down my spine, hot enough to steal my balance for half a second. I hadn’t been undone by a woman’s voice in longer than I cared to admit, but she had a way of talkin’ that cut clean through reason and went straight for want.
My hand found her waist—slow, respectful, givin’ her time to pull away if she wanted. She didn’t. She softened into my touch like she’d been waitin’ on it.
“You keep movin’ like that,” I murmured, “and I’m liable to forget where the hell we are.”
“Maybe that’s what I’m countin’ on.”
Her fingers brushed the front of my cut—light, barely there, but it hit like a damn brand. Every point of contact lit me up.
“You’re somethin’ else tonight,” I said, my voice goin’ rough without permission. “More bold than I’ve ever seen you.”
“Maybe I’m tired of being careful.”
I swallowed hard, feelin’ the truth of that settle heavy. “Careful’s kept you alive.”
She held my stare, steady as anything. “Careful’s kept me small.”
