Tawny Weber - Call To Redemption

“Do you not like to dance?” Darby asked, resting her elbows on the table and leaning toward him with a teasing smile. “Are you self-conscious about your moves? Oh, I know. Maybe you’re one of those awkward, flailing dancers? Or do you give Frankenstein a run for his money?”

She added a jerky, stiff-armed shimmy that made him laugh.

“My moves are solid,” he assured her as he mimicked her stance to watch the candlelight dance highlights over her face. “And I promise, there’s nothing awkward about my body when I use it.”

Her mouth rounded in an O, even as her eyes narrowed as if she was imagining just how that’d feel.

Then, her hypnotic eyes locked on his, she arched one brow, pursed her lips and said, “Prove it.”

For all the fantasy talk, he’d figured it’d take them a few days to build to a climax...so to speak. He hadn’t thought he’d be proving anything tonight. He’d left his rack-’em-and-stack-’em days behind a decade ago. But, dammit, he’d never been able to resist a dare.

So, planning it out with the same quick thinking and detailed focus as he would any operation, Nic stood, holding out his hand to her.

“Shall we?”

“You’re going to show me your moves?”

“They’ll leave you begging for more,” he promised.

“I’ve got to warn you, I don’t usually dance with a partner.”

“You have something against moving against a partner?”

She gave a tut-tutting sigh even as she slipped her hand into his.

“Sadly, I’ve yet to find a partner who has the right rhythm to match my moves.”

Nic shot her a doubtful look and asked, “Are your moves really that awkward?”

Appreciation and humor danced in those big whiskey eyes for a moment before challenge took their place. With her head tilted to the side, she locked her eyes on his and, taking a minute step forward, rose.

Just close enough to hint at their bodies brushing against each other. His body tightened, heat kindling. The look in her eyes said she knew she had his interest, and she was deciding just exactly what she wanted to do about it.

Nic liked that.

He liked that a lot.

It wasn’t just the appeal of a woman who could laugh at herself that turned him on—although that was sexy as hell.

For a man whose entire life was built on overcoming challenges, was there any sexier allure than a woman whose expression promised that she was up to meeting any challenge he tossed her way with absolute assurance and confidence?

As he drew her toward the railing, where they could better hear the music, the distraction he’d been searching for took on a whole new light.

“Here?” Looking self-conscious for the first time, she glanced at the other diners. There were only four tables on the balcony, but they’d be the only ones dancing.

“Here. Under the moonlight, away from the crowd. It’s all about the fantasy,” he assured her.

Then, because it was, he drew her into his arms. Nic had never narrowed his interest to only one type of woman, but he realized as he pulled Darby close, that he’d never gone for petite. If he’d ever thought about it, he’d have figured the foot difference in their height would make dancing awkward.

He’d have been wrong.

As his hands skimmed down her back, sliding over the gentle curves of her butt, he realized just how wrong.

She was the perfect fit.

* * *

OH, YEAH.

Darby’s heart stuttered a little, almost tripping over itself in the shock of feeling Dominic’s body wrapped around hers.

Music drifted up from the beach, the band’s rendition of “Iris” wrapping around them like a soft breeze off the moonlit ocean. A lesser woman might have called it romantic, especially with the heady scent of plumeria and candle wax filling the air.

But Darby Raye was a hard-ass. Everyone said so.

So she knew this wasn’t about romance.

Nope, like Dominic had said, it was all about the fantasy.

And the fantasy was sex.

Sex, and, she could admit only to herself, a chance to simply let go. To enjoy herself without worrying about stepping on a man’s ego. To make her own demands.

It was a heady feeling, she thought as she let her body ease against Dominic’s and, eyes closed, rested her head on his shoulder and let herself enjoy it.

From the breadth of his rock-hard chest to the strength of his thighs to the gentle power of the arms wrapped around her waist, the man felt amazing.

Mmm, it’d feel so good to snuggle in, to tuck her head beneath that firm jaw and sigh her pleasure.

Even as the thought crossed her mind, Darby slapped it right back out again. Snuggling was romantic, like cuddling. It was soft and trusting and sweet.

She was so not the snuggling type.

But as her dress pressed between her thighs, the fabric rustling as it brushed his legs with every easy step, she had to admit that she just might be the sex-at-first-sight type.

She’d never met a guy before who’d made her want to strip him naked and lick caramel sauce off his body. Maybe it was time to give it a try.

“You’ve got some sweet moves.”

Lifting her head to stare into his dark eyes, she debated pointing out that Dominic was the one with the moves. She was only following along.

Before she could, he lowered his head, just those few inches, and rubbed his lips over hers.

Soft, a mere whisper.

Her knees went to water, her body flashing hot and needy in response to the instant inferno that touch set off.

God, was all she could think.

Then, still swaying to the beat of the music, he did it again.

Like grabbing for a lifeline, Darby’s hands linked behind his neck, her fingers delving into the short, thick strands of silky hair.

She tried to swallow her soft breathy moan of pleasure. No point making him think that all it took was a simple kiss and she was his for the taking. Why fool the man into thinking anything about her was that easy?

But, oh, baby. Darby melted. She actually felt herself melting into a puddle of lust.

She knew she should take a step back and think this through. Consider the consequences, weigh her options and devise the most logical scenario to work this situation in her favor.

Then his tongue swept over her lower lip, and she was done. She simply couldn’t think. And she didn’t care that her brain wouldn’t function. Not while she was reveling in her lusty puddle.

When he lifted his head to stare into her eyes with that midnight gaze of his, she was ready. The agreement was poised on the tip of her tongue, just waiting for the question.

“Would you like to take a walk?”

Not her hotel room? Darby’s tongue almost tripped over itself adjusting.

“A what?”

“Walk.” He tilted his head toward the spiral staircase. “On the beach.”

Was his bed on the beach? Because hers was only two floors up. Before she could point that out, he shifted away. Stepped back. Gave her space, she realized. Space and plenty of time to decide what she wanted. Something Paul had never liked, probably because what she wanted rarely coincided with what he wanted.

But Dominic seemed perfectly content to let her decide.

So she considered the options.

Upstairs, where they could immediately quench the heat stirring and blowing through her. Or a walk on the beach, letting the heat build, hotter and stronger.

She wanted him. Wanted to see if the feelings he stirred were just a tease, a fluke, or the simple result of celibacy.

But he wanted to walk on the beach.

Before the bitter taste of insult could overwhelm the delicious flavor of his kiss, she looked into his eyes again. And realized this wasn’t disinterest. Oh, he was plenty interested and not hesitant to let it show.