“Did you have fun tonight?” I ask.
“Yes. So much fun.” She beams. “Your sisters are nosey.”
I chuckle. “They are.”
“And they love you.”
“They do.” I have to grit my teeth when she leans her weight against me, her breasts pushing into my chest as I tense my arms to stop her from rocking her pelvis against mine. She’s hot, I like her, and she’s cute as hell. There’s no way I can fight my instincts right now.
“I have a secret,” she whispers.
“You do?”
“I like you too.” I still, my body locked in place.
“You do, huh?”
“Yep-p,” she says with a hiccup. “Wanna see me be a stripper?”
I shake my head at her, biting my lip to hold back my laugh.
“You don’t?” she gasps dramatically, but it’s totally for show. Then I’m back to gently holding her back from rubbing herself all up against me. She glides her hands over my head to cup my face, holding me there and looking me straight in the eye. “You suuure?”
“Not sure Fred’s old enough to see that.”
“Fred’s a plant. He doesn’t have eyes. But I was thinking . . .” She closes her eyes, seemingly losing herself to the music.
I squeeze my hands on her hips and she slowly opens them again. “You were thinking?” I prompt.
She bites her lip and looks up at me with the biggest, most irresistible, lust-filled gaze I’ve ever seen. Fuck, that’s a damn good look on her too. “I was thinking I could use you as my stripper pole. Maybe show you my moves and see if they work.”
“Oh, they’d work alright, but maybe we should wait until you’re a little less drunk and a lot more cognizant.”
She furrows her brows and I fight back a groan. “Cog-ni-what-now?”
“How about we wait until you’re thinking clearly?”
“You sound like my father. He used to tell me off when I’d come home tipsy.”
“Totally not your father, baby.”
A goofy smile appears, transforming her features. “Baby. I like that.”
“You’re a cute drunk,” I say, unable to wipe the smile from my mouth.
“And you’re a cute everything.” She sags into me, her eyes closing as a sexy sigh escapes her and a rumbling groan vibrates in my chest. Her body is now plastered to mine. “Maybe I can just dance on your pole.” She giggles.
I snort and shake my head, lifting a hand to cup her jaw. “How about I put you to bed and we continue this conversation tomorrow when we both have clear heads?”
“Hmmm . . . bed. That’s a brilliant idea.”
“Nuh-uh. You in your bed and me in mine, baby.”
Alex pouts at that, and fuck, if it’s not making her more irresistible. “Okay. If you insist.”
Chuckling, I nod and gently hold her shoulders steady as I slowly step away. “Time to go to your room.”
“Okay.”
“You’re very agreeable tonight.”
“And you’re very . . . I’m tired.”
I bite back a grin as I slide a hand down her arm and lace my fingers with hers. “Sleep time, baby.”
“Okay. Roomie.”
I walk backward, leading her down the hallway.
“Still want to dance for you,” she murmurs.
“You can do that anytime you like.”
“Now?”
“Anytime other than now. Cut me some slack, Alex. I’m trying to be a gentleman, and you’re making it very hard.”
She giggles. “Something was anyway.”
BJ Harvey is the USA Today Bestselling Author of angsty contemporary romance, romantic comedy, and sometimes a little bit of romance suspense. She regards herself as a smut peddler, suspense conjurer, and a funny romance thinker upper. An avid music fan, you will always find her singing some hit song badly and loving every minute of it. She’s a miner’s wife, a mom to two beautiful teenagers, and was born in New Zealand and currently lives in Perth, Australia.
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