Page 6 of Measure of My Man

The small part of me that wants to resist is being drowned out. I slip my hands up his chest and clasp them up and around his neck just as he pulls me even closer. His hands on my hips. He smells so good. Like something fresh and spicy. I want to do something crazy like lick him, just to get a taste, but this is so not the time for that. So I just rest my head against his chest and listen to his breathing as he moves us slowly around the floor.

A small bump at my side has me looking up to catch Daughtry scowling at some guy too drunk to dance in a circle. But I’m actually grateful to the incident because now Daughtry’s hands are on my lower back with his fingers hovering just above my ass.

And for the first time ever, I just breathe with him. In and out. An inhale of something perfectly stable and safe. An exhale of distrust and discontent. I didn’t think I could be more wrapped up in his arms until he tightens his hold and whispers something in my ear.

But I can’t make out the words. I turn to ask him what he said, and his lips are right there. An inch between us. I lick my bottom lip, afraid that I’ll pull his kissable bottom lip into my mouth if I don’t do something.

The air is charged between us, almost like if I tried to close the space between our lips that I’d be moving through some kind of forcefield.

“I thought you didn't dance, Daughtry?” He doesn’t retreat at my question. His lips are still there.

“Maybe I just never had the right motivation.” His hand is splayed across my ass now and a shiver runs through me. His other hand is sliding up my ribs while his thumb massages me softly and slowly through the fabric. Every time he bunches it a little, I feel a little breeze across my stomach. Sensations are firing in every corner of my body. There’s no space untouched by this man.

And I know what I’m about to do.

Chapter 5

Daughtry

I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do, but I can’t help myself. I wish I could blame the alcohol, but two shots doesn’t hold that much sway over my body.

I’m so hard for this woman. I’m aching. Her lips are so close. Her body’s tucked against me, but I want more.

The hand that’s now cupping her ass draws her in even closer, until there’s no denying that she can feel my rod of steel.

With the contact, I can feel the catch in her breath, and the slow grind against me.

Shit.

I know we’re in the middle of the dance floor, but my brain isn’t cognizant of anything but her.

Then, without warning, she pushes away from me, mumbling, “Sorry.”

Damn. I shouldn’t have done that. I just crossed a line I can’t erase. She’s headed toward the bathroom, so I follow her until I can’t. I wait a few minutes for her to come out, and it looks like she was splashing water on her face because the hair near her temples appears to be damp.

“Teegan. Wait.” I reach out to grab her wrist. “I’m sorry.” I drop my chin, feeling as deflated as a week's old balloon.

“No. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”