One Wright Stand

She saw me gawking at her from the side of the barn. Her eyes heated. I wondered what she saw on my face. Because I wasn’t hiding what I was thinking—at all. I wanted her. Not just because I’d come out to this barn for her or line-danced for her. I wanted someone that vibrant in my life. Someone who set the room on fire.

Annie slid out of the group of dancers and stepped up to face me. Her breath came out in a small pant. “We don’t have to do this. We can go back to the bar. I just thought…”

I stepped into her space, tilting her chin up to look at me. Her eyes widened, and she fell silent.

“I’m right where I want to be.”

She swallowed, challenge in her eyes. “Oh yeah? You like to watch me dance?”

“I think I could watch you do anything.”

She bit her lip, and I contemplated sucking it into my mouth.

Fuck. Fuck.

“Anything?”

I nodded crisply, wrapping my arm around her waist and pulling her tight against me. “Anything. Write grocery lists, mow the lawn, organize your bookshelves.”

She laughed, bright and unexpected. “And here I thought, you were being sexy.”

“I was. Mowing the lawn is sexy.”

She snorted, covering her mouth with her hand. “And organizing bookshelves?”

“Definitely. Reading is sexy.”

“You’re…not what I thought you’d be.”

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “You’re just different.”

“Or maybe we’re the same,” I suggested, threading our fingers together.

She looked up at me with surprise, as if she’d had the same thought and not voiced it. Being here with her felt right. Normally, I’d try to play it cool, but she sliced right through that.

There wasn’t playing it cool with Annie. There was just us.

And somehow, that was a relief.

8

Annie

I’d been to West Texas Winery more times than I could count. I’d seen it in its early glory. I’d seen it empty as they struggled when the money started to run out. I’d seen it packed, like it was tonight, as they pivoted to a more traditional bar scene.

But I’d never seen it disappear.

Not while I was inside of it.

Standing there with Jordan, the dancing, music, lights, and all the people just ceased to exist. We were on the periphery of it all, and I was trapped in that dark chocolate gaze, falling deeper and deeper into the amber flecks around the ebony pupil. Put into a trance by a vacuum into space that seemed to suck us into its vortex, leaving everything else behind.

Jordan Wright had seen right into my heart and plucked out the words I’d been thinking since the pool party.

We were the same.

Somehow. Impossibly.

His hand slid down my back. My breath hitched as he passed over the inch of exposed skin before settling on my hip. I stepped into him. The pulse of energy crackled.

I’d wanted Jordan the moment I laid eyes on him, but something else was happening, and I was helpless to stop it. Even if I wanted to…which I didn’t. We were barreling forward, heedless of disaster.

My eyes dipped to his lips and then back up. Oh God, those lips. I imagined all the ways they could touch my body, and the heat between us only grew. My heartbeat sped up as he drew figure eights into my skin.

“Jordan…” I whispered.

But he didn’t let me finish. He swept his hands up into my hair, drawing my lips to his. I gasped at the sheer confidence in that touch. The way he held me in place without hesitation. Just grabbed me and dropped his mouth onto mine. He tasted like sweet sin. His lips were soft and tender. They pushed and pulled and devoured. Everything those deep, dark eyes had promised was found in that one press of his lips against mine.

A moan escaped me, and I slipped my arms around his neck, desperate to get closer. For more. For him.

His tongue brushed against mine, testing, teasing. A shiver ran down my body as all thought fled, except this precise moment in existence. He sucked my bottom lip into his mouth, and my eyes fluttered open long enough to see the self-satisfied look on his face.

I couldn’t even be mad. I wanted this. I wanted that goddamn self-satisfied look. I wanted it all.

It wasn’t me at all. Usually, if a guy was too into me, I got bored. If a guy thought he was too hot, I got bored. If a guy ever looked at me like that, I was already over it and moving on. And somehow, none of that bothered me with Jordan’s mouth on mine and his body grinding against me as if at any second, he might shred my clothing.

Jordan was into me, and fuck me, but he was pleased with himself for getting me turned on. I was here for it. Like I never had been before. My brain was short-circuiting as he kissed a trail down my neck, nipping at the sensitive spot.