Page 22 of And Everything In Between

“You always stare at women like that?” she asked, sucking on an ice cube, baiting the last nigga she wanted to bait. Giovanni didn’t even blink, didn’t fake any shame. He lifted his glass, took a sip without breaking eye contact, and let his smile creep out.

“Tell me what you want...”

The first few notes hit, and Paige nearly lost her mind.

“Oh shit, Vanni! That’s my jam!” She threw her arms out like she was performing at the Apollo.

“Look at you,” he said, amused. “Ain’t even ashamed with yo non singing ass.”

Paige didn’t even hear him. She was too far gone, singing along loud and proud, off-key but so damn full of heart.

“Is it moneyyy, is it cars, is it things!”

She belted it out, hips swinging side to side in a sloppy two-step.

She spun around, pointing at Giovanni like she was accusing him of something. “Tell me what you want!”

He shook his head, laughing.

“Shorty, you wild.”

The look on his face told the story. He was ready to risk it all over a five-foot-something bombshell singing old school Dru Hill in his shop at damn near midnight.

“Vanni, I wanna slow dance.” She slurred a little, the words rolling off her tongue. “Let’s slow dance.”

She felt good. Not drunk enough to forget. Only drunk enough to remember exactly what she wanted and give herself permission to have it without apology.

Giovanni set his drink down with a soft clink against the table and stood. Paige watched him move with his broad shoulders back and smoldering eyes.

Little did she know Giovanni was willing to do whatever she wanted to ensure she had an unforgettable night. He extended his hand, and she giggled, shocked that he was going along with her drunken request.

“Really?”

“Bring yo ass to me,” he commanded. Her mouth formed an O, at his command as she batted her eyelashes. She slipped her fingers into his and allowed Giovanni to pull her closer, his fingers closing around hers.

Paige did as he told her a little unsteady from the drinks and the heat pooling in her belly, but she didn’t falter. She stood toe-to-toe with him, close enough to smell him again. She inhaled the cedar and saffron and closed her eyes.

The song shifted toForever Mineby The O’Jays. Giovanni slid one hand around her waist, guiding her other to his shoulder. Then he drew her in, closer than necessary, closer than she’d been held in a long, long time. Paige didn’t resist. She went with it, melting into him releasing a breath she didn’t know she was holding. She tried to hide by biting her lip, but he felt it. He felt the way she surrendered to him.

Giovanni’s hand flexed at her lower back, keeping her pressed to him, every breath syncing with the rise of his chest. He wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon. He liked her in his arms.

He moved first, a slow, lazy rock from side to side, nothing technical; he wasn’t a dancer. But he was a real niggaslow dancing with a woman he wanted to unravel, piece by piece, if she let him.

Paige moved with him, instinctively falling into his rhythm. Her bare thighs skimmed the rough denim of his cargo shorts with every step. Her pulse pounded, louder than the bass line, beating wild inside her chest. Space didn’t exist anymore. It was a concept, a mere construct. If this was a mistake, it was the kind she didn’t want to stop making.

“You smell like the sweetest taboo,” he murmured at her ear, voice rough enough to curl her toes. His hand gripped her waist, catching her as her knees started to give in a little.

Paige lifted her chin, eyes locking with his in the dim light. The music kept playing, but they weren’t dancing anymore, they were standing in the middle of the room, suspended by gravity.

Then Giovanni’s hand moved. They left her waist and traced her side slowly. Rough fingertips dragging over her ribs and the curve of her collarbone, making her hiss. He cupped her face, brushing the base of her neck, eyes meeting hers. His teeth ground together, throat working around a hard swallow. His stare had shifted to a darker and deeper stare that both scared her and turned her on.

When Paige stepped back, she gave him the full view, thick thighs, soft waist, the curve of her back perfect enough to make a grown man forget his own name, their eyes clashed into each other like a head collision. Within seconds the air between them combusted.

She could feel herself tipping, leaning, surrendering.

“What’s on your mind, P? You good?”

“I didn’t come here for this.” Her voice dropped as she shook her head.

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