Page 24 of Who's Your Daddy?

I order another strawberry daiquiri, and after slurping it down, I swear she becomes an entirely different person. Taking my hand, she leads me to the dance floor.

I am by no means a good dancer, but she loops her arms around my neck and somehow our feet find a mutual rhythm. With every song, she loosens up a bit more. The day I met her, she was uptight and had her guard up around me pretty much the entire evening. Judgment was rife, and she was analyzing my every word to prove the existence of my inner misogynist.

It’s weird, but I’m sort of intrigued by this tepid energy she gives off. She’s so closed off, almost stoic, as if she’s carrying a burden I can’t even fathom. There’s a distant loneliness in her eyes, but just like the other night, I somehow get her to a point where the stress and tension leave her body. She allows herself to unwind and have fun. I like the fact that she feels that level of comfort when she’s with me, like she’s free to just let go.

We talk. We dance. We get another round of drinks. Although she continues to throw verbal jabs at me every chance she gets, her demeanor becomes more playful and relaxed as the night progresses.

Multicolored lights flash across the dance floor, highlighting her skin with hues of green and blue. The alcohol has not only given her cheeks a warm rosy glow; it’s also stained her lips the most tempting shade of pink. I resist the urge to taste them and spin her around.

She twirls back, stumbling into my chest. “What’s in a strawberry daiquiri?” she yells to be heard over the music. “It’s gone straight to my head.”

“I don’t know,” I yell back. “It’s a chick drink. I think it might be white rum. Do you want another one?”

“No! I think I had too much. You’re already hotter than you were ten minutes ago. I’m pretty grossed out by it.”

“Ooh, another backhanded compliment. Listening to them is slowly becoming my favorite pastime.” Slipping my arms around her waist, I pull her closer. “Be honest with me, though. Do you have any regrets about leaving me high and dry the other day?”

“So many.” She tilts her head back slightly to look me in the eye. “I’ve had to slap myself a few times for being so stupid.”

“Did you think about me more than once?”

“Did you?”

“Nah, it was just once for me...but it was averylong thought. It lasted about three days.”

Again, she tries to hold back a smile, but that dimple on the apple of her cheek still deepens. “You’re smooth.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hmm...Okay. And what exactly about me occupied your thoughts for three whole days?”

“Body parts mostly.” Gripping her sides, I slide my hands up her back, and her breath hitches when my thumbs reach her ribs. “The swell of your breasts. The contours of your shoulders.” I dip my head closer to hers. “The general plumpness of your mouth.”

She lets out a disappointed sigh. “And here I thought it was my riveting personality.”

“You have a personality?” I feign being shocked by this revelation. “Sorry, I didn’t even notice.”

She giggles, lightly slapping my shoulder. “So, when you were staring so intently at my lips the other night, it wasn’t because you were absolutely enthralled by what I was saying.”

“Not at all. I just kept thinking about how good it felt to kiss you. And that’s what’s been playing on my mind ever since.” I lift my hand, stroking my thumb over her full lower lip. “Actually, it’s the only thing on my mind right now.”

“Oh, I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to take me down a bad path again, Peter.”

Millimeter by millimeter, I move closer, so close our noses touch. “Was it really that bad?”

“No.”

Her eyes drop to my mouth, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her lips. The gesture is subtle, yet so erotic my dick twitches in anticipation.

“So, why don’t we try going down this road again one more time...for old time’s sake?”

“I’m ashamed to say this out loud, but...I must be an absolute sucker for nostalgia.”

She closes the gap between us, and a groan rumbles in my throat the second she presses her mouth to mine. Her velvety softness sucks me in. It’s like my body instantly recognizes that this is the sensation I’ve been craving for the last few days because my arms tighten around her. My tongue slips between her lips as my hand slides up to cup her head. The hard metal of my zipper presses uncomfortably against my cock. It hurts like hell, but I don’t care.

I’ve kissed a lot of women in my twenty-seven years. A lot of beautiful women. A lot of sexy women. But there’s something about the waythiswoman kisses me that catapults me into blissful oblivion. It starts off with this sweet, almost shy hesitance that builds into blazing raw lust. Moist and supple, it brings out the most primal part of me. I want to ravish her, consume her. The alcohol isn’t helping either. It’s heating my blood, making me dizzy.

It doesn’t take long to realize that this situation can easily escalate out of control, and I reluctantly pull away. “I need to stop kissing you before I forget where I am.”

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