Page 32 of When We Dance

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“Looks can be deceiving. You look like you have things under control. That’s how it looks. Most of the time, you don’t.”

I don’t like where this is going.

“You’re right,” I admit before leaning closer to him. “Thank you for reminding me,” I breathe against his lips, my breasts crushed against his chest, my hands sliding to his flanks.

His body is warm beneath his shirt as if he’s spent the entire day outside in the sun. I wish I knew where he went today after the meeting, but I’ve already asked too many questions, made too many comments, and disclosed too much information about me.

“Since you three are all set, I think I’ll go back to the hotel,” I say.

He searches my eyes, grinning.

“As you wish… The limousine is waiting outside.”

“Uh… Okay.”

I tear my hand away from his chest and step back, waiting for a reaction.

He seems amused, but his reaction doesn’t come.

“Thank you for… dinner?” I say.

“You’re welcome.”

Is he for real?

I’m at a weak point, it seems.

They’ve hooked me on them, and now I’m writhing on the hook, agonizing, and having no real power.

It feels like shit. I can do whatever I want, except for the things I really want to do. They can’t be done. They’re not in my grasp.

I’m not even sure what those things are.

Overall, they hooked me on their attention. I thrived on it. Played with it. Got confident because of it.

And now it’s gone. Apparently.

Is that it?

If that’s the case… All I need to do is wait to get my prize. I’ve won.

It seems that way. Well, I doubt it’s true… But… Why not play a little? See where it takes me.

“Have a nice evening,” I say when he least expects it.

I lean to him, press my body against his frame, and even feel his bulge against my lower abs when I wind my arms around his neck and kiss his cheek before peeling my lips off slowly, my breath trailing over his mouth.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

His enlarged pupils suggest he is aroused, yet he seems carved out of stone.

I give him a flirting smile while wiggling my fingers in front of him before swiveling around, going straight to the table, picking up my things, and––without looking at the other two men––walking out.

My smile peels off like dead skin.

He thinks he’s bluffing. He has no idea who he’s bluffing with.


Tags: Shayne Ford Romance