For Seven Nights Only - Sarah Ballance Page 0,16

do feels like babysitting, then I’m doing it wrong.” Or at least that was what she thought he said. The music was ridiculously loud, but she was starting to like the visceral beat. Besides, it gave her an out if some creep started hitting on her. She’d just pretend she couldn’t hear him.

Easy.

Easier than pretending she didn’t think Sawyer was the best-looking guy in the room. Or trying to reconcile the fact that, agreement or not, he was there with her.

He watched her, his gaze resting lazily on her with a confidence that made her want to melt into the floor. He looked as if he wanted to eat her alive, and not for the first time, she wondered how she’d ever come down from this. Granted, she knew he was playing a game. She just couldn’t imagine that feral look in the eye of a man who had marriage and a 401k on his mind. Nope, that look was all about straight-up sex.

Wild, filthy, backed-up-against-the-wall sex. The kind he’d promised in the cab. But that promise wasn’t for her, and if the first thirty minutes of this date had taught her anything, it was that she’d do well to remember that.

She finished her drink, wholly self-conscious because that confidence of his had her on edge. As soon as her shoes hit the floor, he had her hand. He led her to a somewhat quieter corner and pulled her into his arms. Full-body contact. God, it was delicious and warm, and he smelled heavenly. Like soap and clean sheets. And if there was anyone who ever needed to smell like something other than fresh linen, it was him. Automatically, she loosely draped her arms around his neck. Worst case, she could smack him in the back of his head with her wristlet. Her phone was in there… That could pack a punch.

“Lesson number one,” he said, and she realized they were already swaying. Dancing slow to an upbeat song…reason number one to melt.

“I thought we did the first three lessons this morning,” she said.

“Dance lesson number one, then,” he said. “Don’t twerk.”

Her jaw loosened. “You seriously think you need to tell me that? Me, who has to be taught how to move at all?”

He pressed his lips against her ear. “I don’t think you need to be taught a damned thing.”

She rolled her eyes. “Right. I’m just playing dumb, so you’ll keep touching me like this.”

Amusement touched his lips. “Back to twerking.”

“No twerking.”

“Yeah, I might have mentioned that. Forget all the wild stuff, and don’t be self-conscious about it.” He slid a hand down her back, evoking chills. “There is nothing sexier than bedroom moves on the dance floor.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Slow and sensual. Touch yourself.”

She gaped at him. “I’m sorry?”

He spun her around so her back was to him and flattened his palms on her stomach, then slid them against the satiny fabric of her dress until his fingertips were dangerously close to the apex of her thighs.

Her breath caught and held. Eventually he’d have to move them and…oh God. He traced her hip, then lower, then dragged that slow, sensual touch—along with her hemline—to her waist. She watched, breathless, as he released the silky fabric and the exposed expanse of thigh disappeared.

“Now you try,” he murmured into her ear.

“You want me to do that?” God, she’d never catch her breath again.

“Bonus points if you grind your ass against me while you do.”

She glanced back at him, startled. But never more so than when her face actually touched his from where he’d been bent over her shoulder, whispering instructions. They were two inches from kissing, she a half second from a meltdown.

And it terrified her.

She jerked her attention back to the writhing mass of bodies on the dance floor, immediately zeroing in on a painfully familiar face. The guy from the dog park—the one who thought Sawyer was her brother—stared at them with a mixture of shock and disbelief. And while some part of her wanted to shake off Sawyer’s sensual grip and explain, a bigger part of her didn’t want to leave his embrace. Because being this close to Sawyer broke every rule in her book, but the reality of that did nothing to dispel the need churning inside her. He hadn’t relented on touching her, and the only thing between them other than their clothing was enough sexual tension to sink a ship.

“You’ve got a wedding to attend, sweetheart.” His voice was husky. Sexual. “You might want to play