We carry on dancing, our conversation trailing off. I’m stuck analyzing if I believe Archer is telling me the truth or not. It’s become increasingly difficult to tell truth from lies and what’s really going on, and I’ve only been here for twenty-four hours.
Just last night I’d been so sure I had put the dresser in front of the door and drawn the curtains. I’d placed my pepper spray under my pillow.
Come morning, none of that turned out to be true.
But I know one thing with certainty as I’m pressed up against him. If he continues gripping my waist the way he is, I’ll wind up in his bed tonight.
Nothing clears my head like sex. A good, powerful orgasm.
My tryst from the other night barely registers. Kaden from the Oasis has begun to feel like a figment of my imagination too.
Just like everything else.
He was real. You felt him between your thighs. Kissing your lips.
…didn’t you?
“So, Sasha,” Archer says as we glide among the other couples, “tell me about yourself.”
My brow arches from above my lacy mask. “Depends on what you want to know.”
“Anything. Everything. Something that’s important to know about you.”
“And you care because…?”
He gives me a sharp spin, seizing control, drawing me back toward him. “I care because you’re a gorgeous woman who’s letting me dance with her and I’d like to see where this goes. Something tells me we’d be good together.”
“You know that how…?”
Another spin. I’m dizzy in his arms in the split second after. “Call it a sixth sense, minx. I know a good thing when I see it.”
“In that case, I hope you’re not disappointed when you get to know me better.”
“I highly doubt I will be.” His left hand grips mine firmly while the other wanders. He holds my gaze as his palm smooths down my bare back, then settles intimately on my hip. Every move, every second becomes a tease. Some kind of flirtation between us where he demonstrates how easily he can take control of my body and force different reactions out of me.
A flutter in my belly.
A pulse between my thighs.
My tongue’s sudden need to poke out and lick my bottom lip.
The bottom lip he openly admires as our body’s press close, our hips align, and we gyrate together.
One thing becomes crystal clear—Archer Hurst oozes sex appeal. He knows how to turn a woman on. The sensual touches and intense eye contact it takes to warm my skin and make me feel like I’m being seduced.
And I can’t say I have any complaints.
As he gives another twirl that ends up with me tucked into his tight arms, I’m lost to the whimsical music and the dance we’re sharing in. I’m peering up at him with a heart that thuds faster inside my chest.
If possible, he brings me even closer. He holds me like we’re loving partners in the middle of an intimate dance. His head bows ’til his cheek brushes mine and his lips graze my ear.
“I can think of plenty of other ways I’d like to get to know you better,” he whispers. “But I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman tonight, Sasha. So why don’t you answer my question, and tell me more about yourself?”
I’m not sure how to respond at first as we rotate across the ballroom. I’m intrigued, acutely aware of the effect he’s having on me. I make up my mind how I want to play the moment with a small smirk that curves onto my lips.
“The first thing you need to know about me is that I don’t need you to pretend.”
“Is that so?”