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My hands rested on his broad shoulders while his arms draped around my back, holding me firmly and swaying me side to side as Ed Sheeran played on the sound system. With my five-foot-four body stuffed into my spikey heels, I was almost eye-level with him and close enough to feel his warm breath heat my cheeks. I soaked in his gorgeous face. His scorching blue eyes, manly straight nose, luscious mouth, and strong jaw that was laced with an oh so sexy fine layer of stubble. Call me drunk, but I was at a loss for words and knew that anything that came out of my mouth would be slurred or sound all wrong. I was hoping there would be no need for conversation. Wishful thinking.
“Your sister was right. You are a good dancer,” he began with a sexy smile.
Heating, I managed a small thanks. I refrained from telling him that I was just following his lead. He was a great dancer himself. Smooth, fluid, and definitely in control.
“You okay?” asked Drake, gripping me tighter and drawing me closer to him. So close my breasts grazed against his steely chest, my fingers longing to run over every ripple of his defined abs. My nipples hardened and a spray of tingles showered me from head to toe. I stared into his blue orbs.
“Are you sure you’re not gay?” Why did I keep asking this question? Was I too blitzed to make intelligent conversation? Or was I simply looking for a reason to not be physically attracted to him?
He rolled his eyes at me and then a wicked smirk lifted his edible lips. “Geez. Do I have to prove it to you?”
On my next heartbeat, his lips came crashing down on mine in a fierce kiss ripped right out of a movie. In seconds, our tongues were dancing and my fingers were fisting his hair, pulling his face toward me and deepening the kiss…a kiss like none other.
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