Page 90 of Never Your Girl

I reach down, gripping the hem of my shirt and dragging it over my head before tossing it to the floor. His attention remains riveted to me as I continue to sway and move my body just like Randi taught me. The bra is the next article of clothing to be shed.

He squeezes his eyes tightly closed.

“Look at me,” I whisper. Our mouths are inches apart as I cradle his face in my hands. “Right now, I’m dancing just for you.”

“You’re so damn sexy.”

I grind my hips against him, coaxing a rough groan that resonates from deep within. His hands rise to my chest and his callused fingers trace patterns on my skin before cupping the softness.

“Holland…” My name comes out sounding like a tortured prayer.

I barely notice when the music fades into another song. All I can focus on is the way he’s staring at me. Almost like I’m something precious and dangerous all at once. Like he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he blinks.

“I’m here,” I whisper, though I’m not sure which one of us I’m trying to convince.

His hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer until our foreheads touch. We stay fused together, breathing the same air, my body moving slowly against his.

This isn’t like the club at all.

It’s not an act or a performance.

It’s real.

The press of his thick erection against me has heat exploding in my core. His breathing picks up tempo, turning heavy every time I shift against him.

He rolls my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers until both stiffen up. Only then does he slip his hands beneath my breasts, lifting them until he can suck one bud between his lips. The heat of his mouth envelops me, and I arch, wanting more of the delicious sensations that are rushing through me. He licks the tip before giving the same attention to the other side. My fingers tunnel through his hair, only wanting to pull him closer.

Once he releases me, he lifts his head until his mouth can find mine. His tongue sweeps across my lips. As soon as I open, he plunges inside. There’s nothing gentle about the caress, and I don’t want there to be. Our relationship has always been explosive.

I’m starting to understand that our combativeness over the years has been a kind of foreplay that was always going to end here.

His hands slide around my rib cage to my back before dipping lower until he’s able to cup each ass cheek before squeezing. I love the feel of his hands on me, palming me, making me come alive in ways I never imagined.

Before I realize what’s happening, his grip tightens as he rises to his feet and swings around before lowering me to the mattress. Our mouths remain fused as his tongue lashes mine. It’s all too easy to lose myself in the feel and taste of him.

He eases away, straightening so he can look down at me. His gaze roves over my face and then down to my chest before he reaches out, his knuckles grazing the outsides of my breasts.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. I’ve never been able to get you out of my head. I’ve never been able to forget.”

Men have watched me dance on stage for more than a year, but none have ever made me feel more beautiful than the way Bridger stares at me now. His eyes are full of adoration. Something I never thought I’d see in them.

One hand wanders along my ribs and across my abdomen before arriving at the waistband of my leggings. His fingertips slip beneath the elastic band, strumming from one hip bone to the other. The way his fingers tease my skin but never dip lower to the part of me that throbs with need only heightens the tension building within me.

When he remains silent, I force myself to say, “Take them off.”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to. That’s not what I had in mind when I asked you to dance for me.”

“I want to.”

I’ve wanted to for years.

Only now am I able to fully admit that to myself.

His fingers lock around the black leggings before dragging the stretchy material down my hips and thighs. It’s a surprise when he leaves the panties in place.

He must see the question in my eyes because one side of his mouth hitches even as more heat gathers in his gray depths. “You’re like unwrapping a Christmas present. I’m going to take my time and savor the anticipation.”

His hands drift from my ankles along the delicate skin hidden behind my knee

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