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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