Page 43 of Red Hot Rancher

Brigit scanned the bar. A few couples were on the dance floor, two-stepping through the cover of a popular country song.

This one used to be one of her favorites. But she’d quit listening to this style of music when she’d moved, sticking to clubs that played the latest hits—anything but country—and martini bars that couldn’t spell Dierks Bentley, much less say his name.

When had she gotten so strict in shunning everything she’d grown up with? No wonder sneaking into animal science classes had been such a thrill.

Caleb noticed her gaze on the dance floor. “Wanna get a few steps in before they bring our food?”

The song ended, and they had a brief reprieve before they had to start yelling at each other again. “You dance?”

He smiled but it faded quickly. “Yeah. I discovered it was a good way not to, uh…go home alone.”

“Oh.” She patted his thigh. “I doubt you needed dancing for that.”

“When I didn’t have much at home, it helped to keep them running away in fear. No one wants to fall for the guy with no money.”

“Then I guess you weren’t bringing the right women home.”

His solemn expression didn’t change. “I knew I wasn’t.”

This man.

Another song started, the male lead crooning the first few lines a cappella. Caleb grabbed her hand and helped her out of the booth.

Dancing with him was…foreplay. His strong arms were around her, leading her left and right, maneuvering her where he wanted. She submitted to him, giggling when they bumped feet or when she tried to take over without knowing. His smile only widened as he spun her faster and held her closer.

His gaze strayed to where they’d been sitting. “We should go eat.”

“Sure,” she said with breathlessness that had nothing to do with the movement. Her body tingled from head to toe, her breasts were heavy, and she had an exquisite ache between her legs.

His gaze heated, promising all sorts of wicked things when they returned to the hotel room. “Then more dancing?”

“Absolutely.”

The elevator doors opened, and it was all Caleb could do not to tumble out. He hadn’t had more than one drink, but he was tipsy with lust. Holding Brigit half the night, witnessing the way her fully clothed body moved and writhed, the smile on her face, and those moments when she bit her lower lip as she concentrated on the steps—they were intoxicating.

He secured her to his side and managed not to run to their room. His erection would’ve made that difficult anyway. His arm was around her shoulders with her shopping bags in the other hand. They moved in sync to the room door, both on the same page.

Dancing had always been a means to an end. A little two-step. A twirl here and there. It cut out the awkward chitchat and he could tell if his partner was receptive to more. But tonight…

He and Brigit had laughed, they’d slow-stepped like they were back at the middle school dance, and she’d let herself go. She’d trusted him enough to let herself go.

It was enough to take the sting out of keeping quiet while she passed all the trendy joints and settled on a bar and grill that could just as well be in Moore. Only they hadn’t known anyone.

But he wasn’t going to dig into her actions now. He just wanted her.

It took three swipes before their lock registered the key card. They stumbled in, the door slamming behind him. She let her coat slide to the floor and he did the same. Next, they each kicked their wet boots to the side.

Then he yanked her to him and planted his mouth on hers, too impatient to take the few steps to the bed. Fortunately, the outfit she’d tortured him in all night would be easy to get out of the way.

“I need you, now.” He turned her around and her hands gripped the floor-length mirror.

She looked at her reflection and then at him. “Maybe we should…”

He crowded behind her and caught her gaze in the mirror. “No, we’re not moving.” Holding her attention, he yanked up her sweater and pulled down her leggings. He palmed the creamy flesh of her ass. “You can watch me fuck you.” Proving at the same time that her height was perfect. She was perfect. That they fit perfectly.

Her lips parted, and she ground back into him. She probably didn’t even realize the strength of her response. He didn’t either. The mirror hadn’t been planned, but he had a sudden need to make his mark, to take her in a way that she’d never forget.

Maybe in a way that she’d never be able to walk away from.

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