So I do something I don’t normally do. Especially in the company of strangers.
I let go.
I forget who I am and why I’m here.
I erase my past and live in the present.
I let this man take me away from all that.
And then, just as we’re really finding our rhythm and getting into it, he twirls me away from him, lets his fingertips slide past mine, and I bump into the chest of Logan.
I look up at him and find him frowning down at me. He took off his coat too and underneath he’s wearing a charcoal-gray suit that matches his dark gray eyes. No cowboy boots on his feet. No shadow on his jaw. No blond hair. He is as different from Blue Eyes as you can get.
How did they become friends? I wonder.
He takes my hand, leading me—just as well as his blue-eyed friend—and takes over.
And just like that we become a trio.
The song ends, but another one begins immediately. And we don’t break the beat or stop. They pass me back and forth like we’ve done this millions of times. Pulling me into their chest, then pushing me away so the other can claim me and do the same.
It’s sexy, I realize.
Maybe too sexy.
I find myself thinking about them. Who they are and why there’re here. But mostly, I find myself wondering how many times they’ve done this together? How many girls have they seduced in an empty bar this way? Because some of this feels very planned.
“What’s your name?” Blue Eyes asks in a low, rough voice just loud enough to be heard over the music.
“Yvette,” I say.
He tips an imaginary hat and says, “I’m AJ,” he says. “And this is Logan. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” But he doesn’t have that Southern boy drawl. If anything he comes off like a wolf. A predator. One of those guys who will do unspeakable things to men and unforgettable things to women.
I should put a stop to this. But just as I think that, Logan twirls me into his chest and the song changes, turning slow.
Logan holds me close, one hand firmly gripping mine as he rests it between our shoulders while his arm circles my waist. We dance like that, no space between us, and I hold my breath, waiting for—no, anticipating—what might happen next.
I find out soon enough. Because AJ has come up behind me. He places his hands on my hips. Low on my hips. And then reaches around my body, caressing my lower belly as he bends his knees and grinds against my ass. Slow-dancing with us as his cock becomes hard and lets me know what’s really happening here.
I don’t want to look up into Logan’s eyes. I really don’t. Because I know what I’ll see there. I know all the silent questions he’s gonna ask. And I don’t have an answer ready.
But I can’t help myself. I can’t stop myself from looking. I tilt my head up, find his eyes, see his question, and then…
He kisses me and I give him my answer.
“Yes,” I whisper into his mouth. “Yes.”
Why not, that inner voice says. Let’s put this day to rest with a bang.
Chapter Two – AJ
We didn’t plan this.
It’s a moment you can’t plan. There’s no way to line up all the variables and come out the other end with this.
Believe me, we’ve tried.
I lean my head to the side so I can watch them kiss. Logan’s mouth meets hers like he’s hungry for her, even though five minutes ago he was the one who wanted to skip the dance.
Logan opens his mouth, and Yvette opens her mouth, whispering something to him. And then I catch a glimpse of tongues touching.
I’m already hard and I don’t even bother trying to pretend what’s coming next isn’t coming.
We’ve done this before. Couple dozen times probably. But all those times feel different. They never felt like a sure thing and there was always the possibility that wires would get crossed or minds would think twice.
It doesn’t feel like that with Yvette.
Everything about tonight feels different. Everything about her is different.
She’s wearing tight jeans tucked into high boots. The jeans are dark and the boots are brown suede with laces that start at her toes and go all the way up to her knees. Her top is covered by a black apron that has the name Snowbunny embroidered just under her left shoulder.
I have an urge to see her top so I drag my hands around to her hips with fingers splayed so I can touch as much of her as possible, and untie the apron string around her middle.
She sucks in a breath.
Now would the time to stop me. Right now. Before I go any further.
But she just leans into Logan and kisses him harder as he threads his hands into her long, blonde hair and picks it up, exposing her neck and the hidden strap of fabric that’s holding her apron on.