She doesn’t even look surprised.She smiles then looks downthe bar.
“I think I can spare a few minutes right now.”
She hops up on the bar and swings her legs over.Before shecan jump off, I grab her waist and lift her down.She giggles, grabs my handand pulls me to the dance floor.Her touch burns my skin.God, I hope I’llbe able to control myself.By the time we get there, Darius Rucker issinging the chorus of “Wagon Wheel.”She releases my hand and turns to face me,swinging her hips and rolling her chest.She mouths the lyrics of the song,changing “Mama” to “Daddy.”I watch her body as she moves, imagining her doingthe same thing on top of me… naked.With her bottom lip between her teeth, she givesme some serious bedroom eyes, beckoning me with her index finger.She’s sofucking hot.Grabbing her hand, I tug her to me.She giggles and turns around,pressing her delectable ass to my crotch.I place my hands on her hips, prayingfor the strength to keep my composure when her fingers stroke the back of myneck.The roll of her hips calls to my dick, and it answers swiftly andwillingly.
I can’t afford to scare her off with a massive boner rightnow.I reach into my brain for what I call the “boner killer”—walking in on myparents having sex on the kitchen counter.It works like a charm every time.Withthat taken care of, I concentrate on her movements, moving in sync with her.Incliningher head to the right, she lays it on my shoulder.I lower mine, trail my nosealong her neck, and take a healthy whiff of her blood-boiling scent.She drawsin a shaky breath and places her hands on top of mine.Oh, shit—all the bonerkillers in the world can’t help me now.My dick begins to harden, and shepresses harder into me.She bends at the waist and the image of fucking herjust like this takes over my brain.Fuck!I feel like my erection just mightrip through my jeans.As she slowly straightens, she rolls her hips.
She turns to face me, moving her hands to my shoulders.I wrapan arm around her waist and stare into her exquisite green eyes.
“For such a big man, you move well.”
“It’s all about my partner,” I reply.
“Is it now?Are you saying if you were dancing with, say,Mary, you’d be stepping all over her toes?”
“Without a doubt.”
I twirl her around, pull her back into my arms, and thenhold her hand against my chest.Thank God she’s chosen not to comment on theprodding her stomach is currently receiving.
“You’re funny, Sheriff.”
“I’m not trying to be.”
“I know.That makes it even better.”
Leaning in, she lays her cheek on my chest.It’s cliché, Iknow, but she fits perfectly against me.With her head resting comfortablyunder my chin, I take a deep breath.Beneath all the alcohol and smoke from thebar, her hair smells like fresh peaches.The beast in me is fighting forcontrol.Down!He retreats, but I don’t know how long I can keep him atbay.I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the feeling of her swayingagainst me.Way too soon, the song ends and she pulls away.
“I gotta get back to work, Sheriff.Thanks for the dance.”
“No.Thank you.”
I hope she doesn’t see my disappointment.Before she walksoff, she stands on her toes and whispers in my ear.
“I get off at twelve.”
***Casey***
Goddamn, that sheriff istoohot!I had to get away beforeI had my way with him right there on the dance floor.His body feltincredibleagainst mine, all hard and strong.I can just imagine what it feels likecompletely naked.And Oh.My.God… that fucking hard-on!He can definitely dosome damage.I can see us clearly—hot, sweaty, passionate sex… and then repeat.I just know once wouldn’t be enough.He looks like the kind of guy who wouldpick me up, slam me against the wall, and fuck me senseless.
Fuck, I need a bucket of ice.Just thinking about it has gotme worked up.He might be just what I need to relieve a little stress; Lordknows I amnotlooking for a relationship.I run to the back and get an ice-coldglass of water.The door bursts open and Janice hustles in, wide-eyed.
“Casey, how did you do that?”
“What are you talking about, Jan?”
“How did you get the sheriff to dance with you?”
“He sort of asked me.”I shrug.
“Heneverdoes that.On the rare occasions hedoescome here, he has a few drinks then leaves.He never smiles, doesn’t talk to anyone,and definitely doesn’t dance.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“No, I’m not.People around here are kind of scared of him.”
“Scared?He seems like a nice guy to me.”
“He’s a good guy, don’t get me wrong,” she says.“He just… doesn’tsocialize much.”
