Unless I find a reason to. My eyes catch on an unfamiliar man on the other end of the bar. He’s handsome, light brown hair falls over his forehead, obvious dimples on his cheeks. He looks clean cut and nice.
The complete opposite of Wes, and maybe that’s the perfect distraction. To hook up with someone else. That’s a guaranteed way to forget for a little while. Maybe then I won’t be so tempted to fall into bed with my neighbor at the drop of a hat.
The man looks up, and notices me so I give him a soft smile. It’s enough to have him approaching me.
“Hey,” he greets, his voice is deep, but lacks the growl that sends a shot of electricity between my legs when a certain other man speaks to me.
“I don’t recognize you.” I tilt my head, trying to place him.
“You probably wouldn’t, I’m not from here.”
“Hm, I can tell.” I let my eyes roam over his frame. He’s about as tall as me and over dressed for this place, but I’m not going to fault him for that.
He chuckles, and again my body doesn’t react the way it does for someone else. “I’m Dale.”
“Bailey.”
“That’s pretty.” He smiles, and I hide my grimace. I don’t think my name is anything special, but sure if he wants to try and say that, I won’t argue.
Not the way I’ll argue with Wes over everything just to see what he’ll do.
“So, what’re you doing here since you clearly don’t belong?” I ask, taking another sip from my drink.
“Just passing through.” He shrugs.
I feel like there’s more than that, Amity isn’t exactly on the way to anywhere, but again, if that’s what he wants to try to say, then I’m not about to argue.
“I saw you dancing a little bit ago, would you want to do a little more with me?” he questions. I want to tell him how lame of a line that is, but I can’t bring myself to.
Instead, I agree and let him lead me back onto the dance floor while a song I don’t particularly like plays. I try to lose myself in the feel of him behind me. Bodies moving against each other, justtrying to see if I’ll have any sort of reaction to him to spur me into going home with him.
I try, but nothing happens.
I’m about to give up, and tell him I’m going home for the night when another voice is behind me, this one deeper, rougher, and says one simple word, “Move.”
I expect an argument, I expectsomething. But as I start to turn, a large strong hand is grabbing my hip, and pulling me back into a oversized hard body. One thatdoeshave me reacting.
He leans down to speak into my ear; I can smell the whiskey on his breath as he speaks and eventhathas me ready to mount him right here. Which is a problem.
“I’m going to pretend that you didn’t want that asshole touching you,” Wes says lowly.
I turn my head, bringing our mouths closer together, but not touching. “You can pretend all you want, but I was planning on going home with him.”
I’m playing with fire, and I know it. ButfuckI want it to burn me.
His hand tightens, and I let out a small squeak at the delicious pressure.
“Just when I thought you could be rewarded. You were right, you are no angel.”
I shake my head. “And I never will be. Especially for you.”
He spins me around suddenly, our chests colliding roughly and I huff at the contact. Wes bands his arm around my back so I can’t go anywhere. Our bodies are completely pressed together, not moving in the middle of the dance floor. I’m sure we’re being stared at, but I can’t look away from his deep brown eyes.
“That’s fine, I don’t want you to be.”
I swallow roughly, the words getting caught in my throat. “Whatdoyou want me to be?” I whisper so low I’m not even sure if he heard me.
He pulls me closer against him, I can feel the hard planes of his chest against mine. I rest my hands on his pec, feeling the steady rise and fall with each breath he takes while we continue to stare into each other’s eyes.
