I twisted my hands into his shirt. “You’re not going to make me beg, are you?”
His big hands covered mine and pressed them to his chest. “Fine. Just for a bit.”
My grin was triumphant, but it wavered when Jamie lifted my hands off him. He seemed determined to keep some space between us as we began to dance.
He was a great dancer. I didn’t know what to focus on. The handsome face that was finally starting to relax, the curves and valleys of his body as he moved, or the wild shuffling he was doing with his feet.
“Seriously, what the hell is going on down there?” I laughed, pointing at his feet after he pulled off a shuffle that I couldn’t hope to ever replicate.
He grinned and did a little fake bow. It was so endearing that it set off a flock of butterflies in my gut. I was having a lot of fun with him.
We danced for what may have been minutes or hours. When a loud gaggle of girls tried to push past me, Jamie pulled me into him to make room. My palms pressed against his chest, and this time, I noticed how hard his body felt.Reallynoticed. He was all muscle and strength, and when my memory flashed with the image of him swaying on that staircase, I couldn’t help but admire how far he’d come.
I tilted my head back to look at his face. “You’re huge.”
He moved his gaze down to me, his brows furrowing. “Sorry?”
I dragged my hands down his pecs, as if to illustrate my point. “You feel so strong. It’s incredible.”
His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Thank you, Ivy.”
“How did you get this way?”
“Lots of time at the gym.”
I kept petting his chest, now fascinated by the softness of his shirt. “I love this shirt.”
He cleared his throat and shifted, trying to move away from me. To my delight, the attempt failed. There were more people pushing through behind me, and I was right back against his chest. One of his hands slipped over the back of my head.
“Do that again,” I told him, my eyes fluttering close.
“Do what?” he asked, his voice low.
“Touch my hair.”
For a few seconds, he didn’t move. I thought maybe he didn’t hear me, but then his hand trailed from the top of my head to the nape of my neck.
I felt electricity shoot down my spine. When he did it again, I pressed closer to him.
“That feelssogood.”
“Ivy…” His voice was strained.
“I like having your hands on me. Touch me, please.”
Slowly, he trailed his fingers down my biceps, and I felt a tingling sensation all the way through my toes. I nearly purred in delight when he did it again, and again.
My nose was pressed into his shirt, and I took a deep breath. “You smell divine.”
A sound I couldn’t quite decipher rumbled in his lungs.
“What is that? Some kind of cologne?”
I could feel him shaking his head. “I’m not wearing any. I think it’s just my detergent.”
“What kind is it? I want to bathe in it.”
I thought I heard him laugh, but I didn’t want to move my head to find out. I was in a little bubble of sensory pleasure, and I was perfectly content right here.
