My body is making a strong argument.Would it really be so bad if we made one little exception?
And the band plays one of my favorites—slow, sultry, a little dirty. My hips sway before I give them permission.
“Just one?” he reiterates.
“Just one,” I murmur.
His grin could power the state of Texas.
We don’t even talk after that. He steps in behind me, close but not touching me. The bass pulses through my chest. My body starts moving, almost involuntarily—hips swaying, shoulders rolling.
His breath is at my neck, but he doesn’t touch.
The restraint is killing me.
“You always dance like this?” he asks, low in my ear.
“Only on special occasions,” I toss back. “Like running into smug cowboys who think they’re charming.”
“Think?” he murmurs.
I roll my eyes. Then—God help me—I grind back against him. Just once. Testing. My ass brushes against his jeans, and I feel it—him.Hard. Unapologetic.
His voice tightens, and he takes my hand.
I press harder into him.
His hands land on my hips, and I don’t fight that.
Oh…damn. Thismaygo against my “no man” rule.
Too late, though, because his hands land there like they’ve always belonged. Big. Firm. Intentional. Caressing.
Just…right.
My heart thunders. My breath catches. And for a split second, the breakup, the move, and the ache of starting over vanish into the music and his touch.
Just one dance, I tell myself.
The song shifts into something slower now. Sultry. My hips move with the rhythm, pressed flush against his.
He matches me perfectly. Not pushy. Just there, present, like he knows how to lead without making it a power play.
Then his voice is low and gravel-coated.
“You sure you’re on a break? ‘Cause right now you’re dancing like a woman on fire.”
I let out a soft laugh, my breath hitching. I glance back over my shoulder, catching his eyes. God, those eyes.
“Maybe I just forgot what it’s like to feel good.”
His grip tightens slightly on my hips. It sends a bolt of heat straight through me, curling low in my belly. Everything fades away. The noise, the people, even the band. It’s just him and me, the throb of the bass, the haze of lights, and this ridiculous magnetic pull between us.
Then the thunder cracks in the darkened sky. Right on us.
A jagged flash of white cuts across the sky. A beat later, fat drops of rain smack against my shoulders.
All around us, the crowd groans. Boots scramble in the mud. Beer sloshes. Chaos erupts.
