And again, with the five-inch spiked heels. She looks fucking incredible in them, but…
“You sure you can dance in those?” Not that I think she should be dancing anyway. It’ll only attract attention. But she’s excited about the ball, and I wouldn’t mind checking out her moves.
“Of course! These are the shoes I wear for the last half of my show. But I think they work with this dress.”
She masterfully executes a twirl, and I admit that, yes, they work.
She’s smoking hot.
But I’m thinking about the eye patch. “What about your depth perception?” I tap my cheek to indicate it.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it down now.”
I lock up the house, then watch her round hips sway gently as she navigates the front steps like a total pro.
I know I shouldn’t, but I come up alongside her, bringing my hand to her lower back as we walk to the car. I let my fingers graze the curve of her ass as she climbs in, and her toned, firm body under my fingertips sends a tingling sensation straight to my groin. In an instant my mind is swimming with thoughts of stripping that pretty dress back off and putting my hands and my mouth all over her.
My dick is already standing at attention. But that’s not the plan. This isn’t even a date. I’m just taking her out so she can go dancing.
Stay on target. Don’t lose focus.
She smiles up at me from her seat, one green eye sparkling under thick, long lashes, and I swallow hard.
What have I gotten myself into?
This was a bad idea.
The moment we set foot inside the ballroom, with its glittering atmosphere and lively music, her face lit up like Christmas morning.
She’s been dancing ever since—all by herself—and she’s incredible. The way she moves is smooth and confident. Every curve jiggling in perfect rhythm. It’sexcruciating.
She keeps trying to get me to join her. “Come on!”
I shake my head. “Nah.”
But she turns to wiggle her ass in my direction, and my dick throbs in response.
“Aren’t you worried I’m gonna attract too much attention, dancing all by myself?” she teases, looking back over her shoulder to grin at me.
I scowl in fun, but she has a good point. Her body in that dress alone would be enough to attract attention, but with the dance steps she’s executing effortlessly out there, she’s got a dozen men watching her with interest. Several women are staring too, admiring her moves.
But I know dancing with Harper would only make things worse. I’m already struggling to keep my feelings for her under control, and I have to stay vigilant.
I tug at my collar, desperate for some cooler air.
“Your loss.” She winks, then does a long, fancy twirl, and there’s pure joy in it. Absolute abandon.
It makes my chest squeeze hard, because she’s doing it: enjoying her own real-life moment out there on that dance floor.
Being human.
At one point there’s a pause in the music, and we step over to a large table filled with elegant cupcakes on tiered platters so she can enjoy one. A couple of our Heartline Security guys are here with their clients, and Cass must have clued them in on Harper’s special situation, because they both give me a nod to let me know they’re looking out for us.
Harper’s impressed with her cupcake, so she goes back to tell the woman manning the table how delicious it was, and I smile. It’s a sweet gesture.
After a while, the lights dim, and the mood in the room shifts as the DJ spins up an older R&B song with a heavy bass groove. Harper’s jaw drops. “Ohhh, that’s it! You’re dancing with me onthis one.” She struts onto the dance floor. “Get out here.” She points disco-style toward her feet, jerking her head back in a gesture for me to join her, but I flash her my palm.
She pouts in fun, then starts in with some even sexier moves, grinding to the beat and gyrating her hips.
