Page 8 of My Wild Mountain Man

“Yeah, the girls are a lot of fun.”

“You guys don’t come hang at the brewery like this,” I noted, and she shrugged shyly. She went with her sisters but hardly ever with friends.

“You know how Onyx can be.” I nodded. Her eyes left mine as she watched her friends dance with a soft smile on her face.

I could see one of the local bikers, a guy named Tray, staring in our direction. The guy was closer to her age than me, about my height and build, with two sleeves of tattoos. I knew if I let her walk away back to her friends, she would be in his arms on that dance floor before I could blink. Fuck, I could bet the deed to my house on it.

“Wanna dance, pretty girl?” The offer slipped past my lips along with the term of endearment without thinking and ended up surprising the two of us.

“You want to dance?” she repeated. “With me?” Her eyes wide and her attention on me made me feel like I wanted to puff up my chest.

“Yeah,” I hoarsely answered. My skin felt tight. My overheated body worked triple time as I watched her closely. In that moment, it was just the two of us. Nothing else mattered. Everything around us felt like it disappeared.

“Oh.” Her pretty lips parted into a perfect O. It made my filthy, dirty mind wander in so many damn directions. My dick jerked to life as I thought about how those pretty lips would look wrapped around my cock.

“That mean you want to dance or––“

“Yeah!” She nodded with youthful enthusiasm. Jesus, that smile of hers made me feel a hell of a lot younger than I was.

“Good girl. Let’s dance.” I hopped off the tall barstool, and without stopping to think about the consequences of my actions, I took her hand in mine. Small and delicate yet strong. It felt right. Like the best thing in the world. And all I was doing was holding her hand.

Quietly, I led her straight to the small dance floor, where she stopped a step away and looked up at me with so much trust and innocence, every sane thought in my head vanished. I was a bastard. I should have turned right around and run the hell out of the bar.

But I didn’t. I had no intention to.

Maybe if I gave myself one night?

One really fucking great night with her. I could work her out of my system and out of my skin. Or maybe the road to hell was paved with nothing but good intentions?

I extended my hand instead of reaching around her waist. I needed this to be her choice. My pretty girl didn't hesitate and placed her soft hand in mine, unknowingly sealing her fate.Ourfate. I pulled her closer and heard a soft little gasp. The soundwent straight through me like a shot of great whiskey, warming me up from the inside out and making my cock throb.

We started to move to the slow sexy beat of the song, our bodies in sync with one another. Holding her in my arms, looking into her eyes was a stupid thing for me to do. With every beat of my heart, those gorgeous, soulful eyes chipped away at my self-control. Her smile filled my soul with warmth.

One song bled into another. The tempo picking up speed as I twirled her around the floor. Our laughter mingled with the usual noise of the bar. Sweaty and exhausted, I held her waist, her front flush up against mine when the song slowed down again to something slower and sultrier than before. Her own hands found their way around my neck as my neck bent down to press my forehead against hers.

“Bash,” she breathed, and goose bumps flared over my skin. Fuck, I loved hearing her say my name. “You’re a good dancer.”

“I’m good a lot more than dancing,” I flirted, and her smile grew.

“Are you now?” She giggled as she pressed closer against me. There was no doubt in my mind she could feel how hard I was.

“Hmm,” I grunted, my hand rising to touch her cheek. “Yeah.”

“Like what?”

“A lot of things.” I knew I was skating on thin ice and playing with fire.

“You wanna show me?” she taunted, and I stilled. This wasn’t just harmless flirting. We could both get scorched.

“Rave.” Her name sounded like a prayer. Raven’s hand moved, stroking the back of my head.

“Please.” That one little six-letter word would be my downfall. If that wasn’t enough, the little minx kept talking. “One night,” she whispered low enough for my ears only. “One night, and no one has to find out.”

Fucking hell, she was saying all the right things.

“How much did you have to drink?” I rasped.

“A Coke.”

---