Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 389(@200wpm)___ 311(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
“Fuck off,” Macklin tells him, and Bowen cracks up laughing.
“Touchy.” He grins. “Ladies?”
“The last time, you stepped on my toes,” Kinzie tells him.
“Fine, I’ll take one for the team,” Kelly, Leighton’s best friend, says. She climbs to her feet and follows Bowen to the dance floor.
Macklin stands, offers me his hand, and I don’t hesitate to take it, allowing him to help me stand. He entwines his fingers through mine and guides me to the dance floor. We move until we’re in a back corner where the lights are dimmer, and the crowd isn’t as heavy.
“Finally,” Macklin says, wrapping his arms around my waist, holding me close as we start to sway to “We Danced” by Brad Paisley.
My eyes find his, and I raise my brow.
“I’ve been waiting for this all night,” he says, pressing his lips to my forehead. “I’m trying not to push you, Baylor, but I really wanted you in my arms out here on the dance floor.”
“I would have danced with you,” I tell him, my hands moving from where they were resting on his chest to lock behind his neck. I gently run my fingers through his hair. He closes his eyes at the touch. When they finally open, my breath stalls in my chest. His gaze is filled with a mixture of desire, need, and something that looks an awful lot like affection, something I refuse to accept as he stares back at me.
“I want all your dances, Baylor.”
“Well, it’s almost midnight, so you’re probably going to get your wish.” What I don’t say is that there’s not another man in this bar that could pull me away from him.
“Oh, tonight, they’re all mine,” he says, smirking. “I don’t care who I have to fight, but when I said all, I meant all, I mean tomorrow’s, next week’s, next year’s. I want all your dances to be mine.”
“You make it really hard for me to resist you.”
“Good,” he says, his hand on my back, pulling me a little closer. There’s no space between our bodies. I’m not sure where he ends and I begin. The song changes, this one a faster beat, but Macklin doesn’t pull away. We keep swaying as if the beat is slow. I’m sure we look ridiculous, and my sisters are going to have a field day with this turn of events, but I don’t care.
This is where I want to be. In his arms, slow dancing to a fast song on New Year’s Eve.
One song bleeds into another, and my head ends up resting on his chest. We’re barely swaying to the music, but neither one of us seems to care. We’re exactly where we want to be. The band announces it’s almost time to count down to the New Year, and I lift my head to find Macklin watching me intently.
Keeping one hand on my back, tethering me to him, the other cradles my cheek. “I really want to kiss you.”
“Are you asking for permission?”
That earns me a smile. “I guess I am. I promised you I’d go at your pace.”
“It’s just a kiss, right?”
He shakes his head. “No, baby. It’ll never be ‘just’ anything where you and I are concerned.”
The crowd starts to count down, and I hold his stare.
Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven.
My heart is thundering in my chest.
Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.
I rise onto my toes and press my mouth to his. He groans and immediately takes control, his tongue tracing my lips, and I open for him. His hand that’s pressed against my back tightens on the sweater I’m wearing, and this time, it’s me who groans.
I lose all track of time. It could be seconds or minutes, even hours, as he kisses me like I’m the air he needs to breathe. It’s not just him. I’m a full participant. I won’t lie and say I haven’t wondered what kissing him would be like these last few weeks. Hell, thirteen-year-old me is dancing around my bedroom, hugging my pillow right now.
I never expected his lips against mine to be a life-altering experience, but here we are. I know without a shadow of a doubt that this kiss changes things. It’s changed me, and that’s scary because I lost my heart to a man who didn’t take care of it. I don’t think I can live through that again.
His lips against mine send a quiet warmth through me. It’s calm and electric at the same time. It’s as if my body knows him as I lean in closer, begging for more. His tongue slides against mine, and I’m fisting his shirt, holding him next to me, afraid this kiss will end. Afraid to lose the moment.
Everything around us disappears. The cheers, the music, they’re silent. They don’t matter. All that matters is Macklin and this kiss. This moment between us. The intensity of it makes my chest feel full in a way it’s never been.