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“Hey, we’d like a couple of drinks.”
“A seven and seven for me,” I volunteered.
“Another Vodka Red Bull too,” the guy at my side said. He turned, one corner of his mouth hooked up. “I like the sweet stuff. Don’t judge.”
“I’m not the type to judge.” My gaze traveled to the snug fit of his jeans. “And if I did, my comment card would be full of compliments.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Hot, fills out his clothes just right, makes me trip over my tongue. Ten of ten. Would recommend.”
He laughed. “You’re doing pretty good with your tongue, from what I can see.”
A wave of heat crashed through me. “So, uh, what—I mean, do you want—” I broke off with a huff. “Dancing?”
The bartender set our drinks on the bar top. My guy pulled out his wallet and tossed a couple of twenties down. He didn’t seem too worried about money.
“You’re cute,” he said. “Drink up. If you want to dance, we’ll dance. If you want something else…”
My stomach flipped. I knew what that something else was. I wanted it. Bad. But it had been a while since I’d made time for it. I was out of practice, and a guy like this? He was very much in practice, judging by the looks he was getting.
Still, I wasn’t going to let that stop me.
I raised my glass and took a healthy gulp of my seven and seven. The alcohol went to my head, but I wasn’t about to sip my way through it and risk losing his interest.
He drank down his vodka just as quickly, eyes locked on me over the rim. That gaze was as intoxicating as the whiskey. I set my glass down with a clink. “Done.”
He lowered his glass. “What’ll it be? Dance or…”
“One dance,” I said. “I, uh, need to warm up. I’m a little…out of my depth here.”
He stood and held out his hand. “No worries. We can get nice and hot on the dance floor. The next move is your call.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You want to hook up, though?”
“Only if you do. I’m not really into reluctant partners.”
“I’m not reluctant,” I said, probably too quickly, as I jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Just…I don’t do this a lot.”
He led me onto the dance floor and pulled me close, setting his hands on my waist. We were about the same height, making it easy to look him in the eye as I slipped my hands onto those broad shoulders. My heart thumped in time with the bass.
Our hips rolled together, setting me ablaze like a damn Fourth of July sparkler. Muscle memory took over, and my body moved to the music. Moved with him, following his every lead, because damn, it really, really wanted him.
“You’re a real hustler, you know that?” he said.
My gaze flew to his. “What?”
“Acting all shy and like you’re out of practice.” He clenched his hands around my hips. “You’ve got all the moves.”
I rolled my hips again, my cock hard and aching as it brushed against the bulge in his jeans. “Guess I’m all warmed up.”
“Yeah?” His hands slipped down to my ass, holding me tight against him, making me throb in my jeans. “You ready to take this off the dance floor?”
“Yeah,” I said, voice breathy. “But…where? I don’t live here.”
“I’ve got a car outside. Something tells me you’re not the type to want an audience.”
“Maybe I’m a little shy still,” I admitted.
