A Taste of Magic - By Tracy Madison Page 0,92

question I didn’t even know the answer to? “Maybe. It depends. I’d like to have children at some point.” Heat rushed my face. An uncomfortable silence settled in around us, but we continued dancing.

“I’m not sure I want kids,” Kevin admitted. “But I know I’d like to find my life partner. Someone I can laugh with, you know?”

I nodded. “Laughter is good.”

“Come closer,” he whispered.

His breath in my ear, on my neck, caused a trail of goose bumps all the way down my spine. I shivered and tightened my hold around Kevin, allowing myself to lean against him, resting my head on his chest. The uncomfortable moment passed, and I realized—suddenly—how good it felt, dancing with Kevin.

His arms wrapped tight around me, the firmness of his body next to mine, and the sound of his heart beating in my ear. It was real. It was solid. And hey, the guy did turn me on. Maybe not fireworks and explosions, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong with a nice steady burn.

When the music ended and the deejay announced the bride was about to throw her bouquet, I followed Kevin off the dance floor.

“Sure you don’t want to join in?” he asked, nodding toward the women falling in for the toss.

“Nope. I’d rather stay with you.”

He smiled, and while I can’t say it lit off sparks, it did warm me.

In a way, I felt stupid. Most of the single women at the reception would love to be in my place. Hell, most of the single women in the known universe. Kevin was easily one of the nicest guys—through and through—that I’d ever met. Not to mention that hot-and-sexy thing he had going.

Yeah. I decided I was definitely stupid. Another drink or two (or three) would fix that. “I’m going to get another drink,” I said. I wanted to relax. I wanted to have a good time. And if I was completely honest with myself, I wanted to stop thinking about Nate.

“You sit here and be beautiful. I’ll get it. You want the same thing or something different?”

“The same, please.” I watched the bride grin and turn her back to the anxious women. Honestly, this was one tradition I’d never really understood. Why get so fired up about possibly catching a bouquet?

A young lady, maybe around twelve or thirteen, leapt into the air when the flowers went flying. She caught them easily. The grin on her face made me smile. And that helped me remember being a teenager and wanting—desperately—to catch the bouquet at a cousin’s wedding. What made me laugh, though, was the sour expression on some of the women’s faces who’d missed the catch this time.

“Here you go,” Kevin said, returning with my drink. “We’ll have to work this off on Monday, you know. Alcohol plays havoc with the body. Lay off the coffee tomorrow and drink lots of water.”

“Sure,” I said.

“You have no intentions of laying off the coffee, do you?” “Since when do you know me so well?”

“I’m learning,” he teased. His hand found its way to my knee, and he rubbed my skin slowly. Every now and then, his fingers would slide under the hem of my dress, just a little.

Remember the slow and steady burn I mentioned? Kevin was definitely stoking the fire. I sipped at my drink, the sweet tang going down easily, adding to the heat in my belly. I felt myself begin to relax. Finally. Maybe I’d have some fun now.

The next two hours were more of the same. Drinking, dancing, with Kevin touching me. Softly, secretly, like a perfectly planned out seduction. By the end of the evening, I only wanted one thing.

“You can’t drive. You’ve had too much to drink. And actually, so have I. Let me call you a cab so I know you get home safely.” His fingers found my lips, and with a gentle brush he said, “Unless you want to share a cab. To my place?”

“Yes. Yes, I do,” I whispered. I wanted a warm body, hot sex, and arms to hold me all night. No. I didn’t just want it. I needed it.

Kevin’s eyes darkened as soon as I spoke. “Let’s go,” he said.

Standing, I smoothed my dress down. “I need to use the restroom and get my coat. I’ll meet you at the door.”

“Don’t change your mind.” His husky voice slid into me like melted butter over freshly popped popcorn.

“I won’t.”

Thirty minutes later, I followed Kevin into his condo. It was striking. He’d used a minimalist focus

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