Thrill Seeker (Sinful in Seattle)

I felt an answering echo in my lower belly.

Bad sign.

“There she is.”

I threw a narrow-eyed-glare at my best friend and assistant. She knew me far too well. “One dance.”

Her glossy red lips lifted at one corner before she wrapped her lips around her straw. “Sure. I’ll be here, drinking my courage.”

“And you expect me to just go on out there?”

“Yes. Go let loose.”

I flicked my heavily curled hair over my shoulder and took a deep breath. It was just like riding a bike.

I glided into the crush of people. Instinct took over as the music infused into the marrow of my bones. There was no expectation. No one knew me. So I let go. The watery undertones of the song urged my hips into soft, fluid circles. This was exactly what I needed. As usual, Mel had been right.

I found my spot in the center of the crush of people. I ignored the bump of strangers, and the dancers who thought they were far more talented than they were. I let my gaze drift to the whirling lights above me as the tension in my shoulders melted away.

My body became one with the underlying beat of the song. The heartbeat. I could find it in any piece of music. A Christmas carol, a hymn, a rap song, a country tune—it didn’t matter. There was always heart to a good song.

Once I found it, everything else fell into place.

I slipped my fingers into my hair and let the dreamy music take me away. Clubs often extended the song with remixes and I chased the rhythm. My breath raced as the song built up and spun out.

Eyes were on me.

I ignored them.

Right now, I didn’t want small talk, or someone grinding on my ass.

I just wanted this. The only release I could find.

The song changed to a big hit that had been reduced to a shadow of its original flavor. One that I didn’t want to dance to. I raised my arms to shimmy my way through the crowd when a large hand slid along my waist. The pads of a man’s fingers skimmed along the raised hem of my shirt.

Being in a club meant hands on you whether you wanted them or not. I’d broken my share of fingers when I wasn’t in the mood. I lowered my hand to do just that when the guy invaded my space.

Strong thighs aligned with mine as he pushed me back toward the center of the floor.

My eyes flashed wide, met eyes the color of blue flame. An intense, unflinching stare. There was no guesswork, no teasing—just pure heat. His fingers slid around to the small of my back. His hips moved in time to my own.

He didn’t hold me tight. Just enough to keep me close.

I tipped my head, curiosity riding me harder than annoyance. I shouldn’t have allowed it. He was too big, too overwhelming to be the kind of man I normally danced with. I preferred fun and smiles. No harm, no foul kind of guys who didn’t give me trouble when the dancing was over.

Not like this man.

His broad shoulders were encased in a fitted black shirt with another collared shirt under it in the same jet color. In fact, he was dressed in black from head to toe.

He stroked his thumb under my chin to bring my attention back up to his eyes. He didn’t speak. Not that either of us could be heard over the music, but he didn’t even bother with the pretense.

Just those ridiculous blue eyes burning into mine.

The song faded into one that I loved. Watery strings with a staccato lyric to start before the drums and crashing tones filled the space. His hand grew bolder, coasted down my back to my ass, and his knee slid between my thighs.

Our gazes didn’t waver.

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