She giggled. “Do you sing?”
“Nope.”
“But you’d do karaoke with me?”
“I’d do anything with you, princess. Okay. First we’ll do it my way.” He caught his lower lip between his teeth and waggled his eyebrows. “Then once we’ve got some liquid courage in us, we’ll do it your way.”
“I don’t need tequila to ride the bull,” she protested as he spun around and slapped the bar.
“Maybe not. But I do.”
“We can do something else.”
“Oh no. You’ve challenged me. I’m a competitive man.”
“Well…that’s silly. Let’s do what you want.”
He leaned in close. “I want to impress you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He didn’t need to do that. Maybe…
But the bartender was in front of them and Dean was ordering two shots for each of them before she could say anything. He picked up the shot glasses and handed her one before lifting his own in the air. “To cutting loose.”
She raised hers to meet his in a gentle clink. “Alrighty.”
After they tossed back the shots, they headed next door to a club with a mechanical bull and a decent-sized dance floor. There was a sign-up form for the bull, so Dean put his name down, then they did some line dancing. He had zero problem following the choreography, and when a slow song came on, and she raised her eyebrows at him, he held out his arms and she folded into his embrace.
“You don’t mind doing this here?”
“Unwritten law in Nashville—nobody’s going to pay any attention to me having a social life.”
“No videos currently being taken of you slow-dancing with Arm Guy?”
“Not likely.”
He turned her effortlessly. “And if there are?”
“I’m okay with that.” She waited a beat. “Are you…?”
He slid his hand from the small of her back to her waist and spun her around before answering. “Yeah.” He tugged her hard against his body. “I am if you are.”
Well, that was an unexpectedly easy conversation. She rolled her hips against his as he led her through the dance, trusting that he had her.
Around and around they went, their bodies moving in unison as he moved them across the dance floor. And when he finally stopped, they were along the wall, near the back, and there was a private nook right there.
Without letting herself think of all the reasons not to, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shadows.
He loomed over her, big and warm and perfect. The first brush of his lips against hers was hard and fast. A test. Were they really doing this here?
Yeah. She twisted her arms around his neck and pulled him against her.
Kiss me. The simplest, neediest of thoughts, and it was all she could manage. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak.
Slower this time, he lowered his head. His lips pressed hers open, his tongue questing right away. His hands squeezed at her waist, then curved around to cup her bottom through her dress.
He could tug it up. She was wearing the skimpiest panties underneath. He could touch her and she could touch him. He’d be so hard in her palm, so hot…
With a growl, Dean broke away from the kiss and jammed one of his forearms against the wall beside her head. He leaned against it, breathing heavily.
