Page 39 of Moonlighter
“Well, I’m good enough for both of us,” he says in that smug tone that makes me either want to kill him or kiss him. “Besides, there were a couple of dudes making a beeline for you. To your left.”
My eyes dart to the side, and I see exactly who he means. They’re Jared Tatum’s two golf buddies. “Ugh. No. Those are the ex’s friends.”
“They didn’t look like fun to me either,” Eric says, his low voice vibrating in my chest as he turns me around. “So I took evasive maneuvers.”
“You are too slick for your own good.” I’m so close to him now. There was no alcohol in my drink, but I’m high on a blend of my own bravery and Eric’s clean, masculine scent. It’s a potent brew.
“Your ex’s pals are watching,” Eric whispers. He steps in closer and brushes a kiss across my cheek.
“What was that for?”
“So they won’t cut in. I’m not allowed to leave you alone. And three people slow-dancing together is just awkward.”
I laugh suddenly, picturing Eric wrapping his arms around me and another guy.
His response is to kiss me again with soft lips on my cheekbone. But this time, the kiss lingers.
My laughter dies in my throat, and goose bumps rise up on both arms. My bra suddenly feels too tight.
Good lord. My response to a kiss on the cheek is pretty extreme. If he kissed me for real, I’d probably combust.
Eric straightens again, piercing me with those gray eyes. Then they darken, as if he can read my reaction from my face.
I look away. But it’s too late. My cheeks are flushed, and my heart is galloping. Anyone who looks at me right now would know why. “Did they go away?” I croak, as if Jared’s friends are even the least bit interesting to me right now.
Eric doesn’t answer. I can feel the weight of his stare as he turns me in another slow circle. I’m terribly aware of his hands on my body. His thumb is stroking my palm, and the sensation makes my whole arm tingle. And his other hand rides low at the small of my back, his pinky finger sliding down onto my bottom.
And I am made of shivers.
“Alex,” he whispers under his breath.
“Mmm, what?” I breathe.
The next kiss starts at my forehead, makes a brief touchdown on the bridge of my nose, and then slides confidently onto my mouth for a split second.
I whimper like a fool.
He chuckles, which is when I realize I’m being teased.
“What are you doing?” I whisper harshly.
“Experimenting,” he rumbles.
“No, you’re teasing me.”
He shakes his head. “Teasing is when you won’t follow through. Which I totally will. And you liked it.”
I did. I liked it very much. But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. “You should stop,” I say in a shaky voice.
“Should I?” he tilts his head. “I don’t mean to split hairs. But saying Ishouldisn’t the same thing as asking me to stop.”
“No, I suppose it isn’t.”
“Tell you what. One kiss. One real one. And then you can decide, once and for all.”
“One more kiss?” I repeat like a ninny.
The music stops, and I’m vaguely aware that the people around us are applauding the four-piece band. But I can barely hear it as Eric takes my face in both hands, tilting my chin up to meet his.
