Page 7 of The Last Dance You Saved
I wanted her. She wanted me. We were two consenting adults, years past the legal age, regardless of the gap between her twenty-three years and my thirty-five. Would tasting her douse the fire she’d flamed, or would it leave a burn I’d feel for days? Months? Years?
“They should call you the Tennessee Hurricane rather than Tennessee Darlin’,” I grunted out, trying to reel myself back in. Reel us both in.
“Afraid of a little wild west blowing over you, Slick?” My body erupted all over again at the dare she accompanied by another mischievous smile.
In another lifetime, before I’d weighed and measured every single decision, every penny, every plan, every purchase, I’d been extremely good at accepting dares.I dare you to jump off the cliff into the creek. I dare you to ride bareback on the unbroken stallion. I dare you to kiss me.That last dare had changed my life. Cracked it apart. Shattered it until only one good thing emerged from the ashes.
This dare, issued from a sparkling, vibrant woman who lived thousands of miles away and would be gone on the next plane ride out of Vegas, was nothing compared to that one. And maybe it was all those reasons, the man I’d once been as much as who I was now, that had me accepting that dare, even knowing I wasn’t seeing all the odds.
At the moment, all that mattered was the ache I had for her. The ache to hold on to someone who allowed life to pour over them. I wanted it to drown me for a few hours before I returned to the empty void my mistakes had carved into me.
I shoved my phone into my suit jacket and stood. I registered her disappointment, thinking I was leaving, just as I felt her body jolt when my palm slid along her nape. I lowered my mouth so it caressed the shell of her ear and said, “You should be more careful what you gamble with, Tennessee.”
A shiver ran through her, but she twisted her face to mine, bringing our lips so close I could almost taste the liquor on them before she whispered, “I think I can beat the odds.”
The fires that had been licking through me burned viciously. I let out a savage growl, low and dark, as I took her elbow and practically yanked her from the booth. She had the audacity to laugh. Light and elvish. Charming and sweet. But I ate sweet for breakfast and spit it out before lunch, and she’d find that out soon enough.
Chapter Three
Sadie
HEELS IN HAND
Performed by Priscilla Block
Rafe’s hand on my elbow shotpure lust through my veins. While it had been a really long time since I’d tangled my body with a man’s, I knew for a fact I’d never felt anything this strong before. This heady. This addicting.
I wanted to feel his touch on every inch of me.
That thought sobered me up slightly. Not that I was drunk—I’d only had that single glass of bourbon. No, the high I felt was all for Rafe and his dark, broody intensity. I wanted to see what the carefully leashed man in a pressed suit looked like when he let his feral growls have full rein. I wanted him to demand I forget everything but him and his caresses. But the realization that his hands would find the scars covering a portion of my body had me slowing as we headed down the corridor.
As if thinking of the wounds had brought them to life, the limp I still fought when exhausted found its way to the surface. I saw it reflected in the shiny brass elevator doors as we made our way toward them, and Rafe’s all-seeing eyes caught it before I’d been able to rein it in.
“Are you hurt?” he asked. When I looked up, desire still burned, but his expression was twined with a concern I disliked. I didn’t want concern tonight. Or gentleness. Or pity. God, pity would be the worst. I’d had enough of that after I’d been shot.
I raised a single brow, smiled my best smile, and let loose my full Southern accent as I said, “Nope. Not hurting. Just have an old gunshot wound that acts up now and again.”
For a moment, several long heartbeats, he didn’t seem to register what I’d said, and then something glorious happened. The scowl he’d been wearing ever since walking into the piano bar broke apart, and a smile emerged. Full and beautiful with that single-sided dimple that had set my pulse rate zooming earlier and increased it to full throttle once more.
“Trying to take back your ante, Tennessee?” Clearly, he thought I was joking. But he’d find out the truth soon enough, and he might be the one to withdraw. I hadn’t risked showing them to anyone until now, but they still weren’t pretty, even all these months later.
“You know us wild-west women, Slick. Gunshots don’t slow us down.”
And then something even more miraculous happened—he laughed. He’d done it earlier when we’d been in the upstairs bar, but that had been reserved and half-hearted. This felt real and full, and I swore the world stopped. Everything around us slipped out of focus as his rumble weaved through me. Deep. Enthralling. Full of hidden promises I wanted to explore.
The elevator doors opened, we stepped inside, and he waved his phone at the panel. The digital display requested a code, and he hesitated for a second before punching it in. The green screen behind the brass bars shifted, displaying the view of The Strip as we zipped upward.
My heart thudded against my chest as our eyes met. I swore I could see fire in his depths. I almost expected him to haul me to him and kiss me right then and there, but instead, he ran a single finger from my shoulder to my elbow and back. Just that simple action made my thighs quiver. I swallowed the nervousness that tried to flutter to life and stepped forward to eliminate the distance that remained between us, but his palm landed on my chest, halting me. He glanced up at the corner of the elevator.
“Not here. But once the door of my suite shuts, there won’t be a place on you I won’t touch.” The promise in his voice was a sensual purr.
The bell dinged, and the doors swooshed open. He held them for me, meeting my gaze with a heated one. “Last chance, Tennessee. Are you in, or are you out?”
I didn’t even hesitate. I simply stepped out of the elevator, causing his jacket to brush against my bare arm as I went by, sending off another million sparks throughout my body.
“I’m not folding,” I tossed back. “Are you?”
He didn’t answer with words, but he stepped out beside me and tugged my hand into his, fingers twining with mine in a way that made me ache all over. Not just in my body, but in my heart and soul. And suddenly, at the very worst time, I realized I truly wanted what my siblings had found—a forever after. But that wasn’t what this was tonight. This was simply a few hours of passion and sin and forgetfulness.
