Page 57 of Better Late Than Never

After the guy and I finished dancing, I decided I needed to cool off a bit and catch my breath, so I went to the bar again. I had just gotten a bottle of water when someone appeared beside me. I thought he wanted my spot at the bar, so I stepped aside to make room, but then I realized he was looking right at me.

Oh, he was hot, too. Wavy black hair. A gorgeous grin. Sexy eyes that might’ve been blue or green; it was hard to tell in this light.

He said something to me in rapid-fire Spanish, and I blinked. I’d barely caught any of the words, and the few I had, I didn’t understand.

He smiled. “British?”

I shook my head. “American.”

“Ah. You speak English, then?” His accent was thick, but I understood him, thank God.

“I do. And you do too, apparently?”

“Ah, some.” He wobbled his hand in the air. “Not, uh, not like…” He gestured at me.

I shrugged. I could work with that.

“Your name?” he asked.

“Connor,” I shouted over the music. “Yours?”

“Emiliano.” He took my hand. “Come on. Let’s dance.”

I smiled and let Emiliano lead me back out onto the floor.

He could dance, too. Goddamn. I had to wonder what else he could do with those hips. Maybe before tonight was over, I’d find out.

I liked the way his hand felt on the small of my back. I liked the closeness of our bodies, and the way his eyes sparkled in the disco lights. I liked being out in the open with a man, touching him in ways that were obviouslynotplatonic.

How the fuck did I go my whole damn life without ever even dancing with a man?

Ooh, right. Married.

Well, no time like the present to make up for lost time.

By the end of the second song, though, I had a feeling he wasn’t interested. He wasn’t being rude or looking at me with disgust, but he was looking around a bit more, as if searching for someone else. Eh, it stung a bit—rejection was never fun—but he wasn’t a dick about it and there were still plenty of men in this club.

We danced for a few more songs before going our separate ways. It had been a little disappointing the first couple of times that happened, but some guys might’ve been here just to dance, not hook up. And some of them might have decided after a little dancing that I wasn’t someone they wanted to hook up with.

I could live with that. I was having a better time than I’d expected. Finding my groove on the dancefloor. Feeling less like a fish out of water and more like I might actually belong here.

Someone else appeared behind me, sliding a hand around my waist to my stomach and pulling me back against his firm, hot body. Oh, hell yeah.

Then his lips brushed my ear, and over the thumping music and through my earplug came the words, “One more song, and I was going to have to cut in.”

I spun around in his grasp, and… oh, fuck.

Alex grinned, his eyes absolutely on fire.

“You…” I stammered. “You came.”

“Of course I did.” He tugged me in closer, and his voice barely carried over the music as he growled, “It’s all I’ve been able to think about.”

My knees almost melted out from under me. “You and me both.”

He bit his lip, then leaned past me to speak in my ear. “If I could kiss you out in the open like this…”

I was kind of grateful for the music, since it swallowed up my very manly and dignified whimper. “We probably shouldn’t even be doing this much.”

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