Page 67 of Lace 'em Up

“…and that’s why I love you…” she croons quietly, hands moving along her sides, ribs and feet clearly not bothering her any longer. She raises her arms, twines them over her head. “Forever and always…”

I don’t realize I’ve moved.

Not until I capture her hand in mine, lacing my fingers through hers as I draw her back against me.

She gasps, head jerking up, eyes coming to mine, and then I feel it?—

She melts against me, her back to my front, her fingers softening, head dropping back against my shoulder.

And that lands right beside the vision of her dancing alone.

Slowly, I lower my arm, drawing hers down with it, wrapping both of mine around her middle, bringing her even closer against me. My body starts swaying, matching the movements she’d been making just moments before, mirroring the song’s rhythm.

It’s instinctual and impossible to resist.

We rock together through the chorus and then I turn her during the verse, pressing her front to mine, encircling her in my arms, tucking her head beneath my chin.

Cinnamon and sugar and flowers.

Soft and sweet and cautious.

Her hand stays above my chest for several long moments before it settles above my heart. “Your heart is racing,” she murmurs, barely audible over the music, over the song winding down.

“Because I’m holding a beautiful woman in my arms,” I tell her, smoothing my hand up her back, drawing her closer. So close that I can feel the sweet kiss of her breath on my throat, that my beard catches on the silken blond strands of her hair, that I’m drunk on her presence.

My words have her fingertips pressing into my flesh, her breath catching. “You’ve dated plenty of beautiful women,” she whispers.

“I haven’t dated you.”

“Not dated,” she teases. “Just put a ring on my finger. Or not,” she adds lightly, lifting her left hand with her naked finger and laughing quietly, and the sound of that coats my soul in the sparkling beauty of her.

Rory, bright and beautiful despite everything.

Rory, a woman I’m scared to want.

But who I do—something that increases with every heartbeat.

And still, I don’t let her go.

I hold her, rotating slowly, the music filling the room even though I barely hear it. I’m focused on her.

Every breath.

The way the lights overhead glint off her hair.

The scent of flowers drifting off her skin.

The cinnamon and sugar of the pie in the air.

The soft bite of her nails into my chest. The way her pelvis rocks against mine, reminding me of this morning.

The feel of her body against mine.

The slick heat of her on my tongue.

The clasp of her around my fingers.

The sound of my name on her lips as she came.

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