Once upon a time, if Dillon had propositioned her, she’d have tumbled, no questions asked. She wasn’t that naive girl any longer.
Anyway, one-night stands were for people who stayed up past ten o’clock on school nights. For women who were risk-takers, not safety-seekers.
Another thought tripped through her mind. Dang. She wasn’t wearing her best underwear. Had she shaven her legs that morning? That blew the lingering lust all to hell. Falling off the sex wagon with flowered, cotton panties and hairy legs would be a scandal.
Her stomach rolled.
Why did he have to smell so good? And look like a model?
She snuck another glance to his belt buckle. She’d always wondered if he was built. A man with those brawny shoulders and slender hips, she’d guess there’d be no disappointment. His zipper moved and she sucked in a breath. Lifting her gaze, she realized he was watching her. She jerked her eyes to the road.
Oh my God. I just gave Dillon Brooke a hard-on.
She bit back a squeal. Realizing this was the happiest she’d been in days, she cringed. She was so not cool.
Turning onto the gravel drive, passing the metal swinging sign that read Brooke Creek, she prepared herself for turning away from the one man she’d fantasized about more than Mark Walhberg.
Maybe he’d changed his mind too. He’d been quiet for some time. Disappointment slithered through her, churning her stomach. She’d turn away, sure, but she wanted him to want her, not bearing the thought of him snubbing her again.
She shook her head at her own absurdity.
Approaching the house, her intestines gurgled. She pulled close to the gate, slid the car into park and waited.
He twisted in the seat, his gaze held hers. Her tongue grew thick. He started to move in…would he kiss her. Apprehension bubbled up inside of her. Fear mixed with excitement. Then she did it. She pressed her hand against his chest in silent rejection.
“I’ve got to go home.” Her words were like a guillotine on the neck of promise.
He blinked, but his expression didn’t change. “Okay.”
Would he argue? Would he ask her to change her mind? A man like Dillon didn’t need to ask a woman a second time.
“Thank you for bringing me out here. Will you be okay going back?” His hand was already on the handle.
“I’ll be fine.” She forced a smile to her trembling lips. “Thank you for the dance. It was very nice.” What? Was that how she’d leave this? She wanted to rip his shirt off and lick him all over. Explore every delectable inch. Her fingers itched to undo the belt buckle and touch him in mystical places.
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