Page 8 of Shine: Sins of the Father
“Right. Of course. You a sweet butt?” His head tilts. “Or maybe one of the dancers down at that strip joint the San Jose chapter owns. What’s it called?”
“Sonny’s Gentlemen’s Club.”
“Right. Sonny’s. I was there once, but I don’t remember seeing you. My loss, huh? I think I’d like to have seen you dance. Maybe I’ll have to come through sometime and catch your act.”
I nod because I don’t know what to say to that.
“What’s your name?”
I blurt the first thing that comes to mind, and that’s the dancer from Sonny’s who gave us girls a pole dancing lesson the night we snuck in for Tori’s bachelorette party.
“Desiree.”
“Desiree,” he repeats as he stops a mere foot away, then tilts my chin up and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. I’m lost in his blue eyes, and a flash of desire shoots through my body.
“Do you use this place often?” I ask.
“First time I’ve been up here.” His eyes skate down me again. “But I’m liking it so far.”
I give him the once-over right back. “Same.”
He chuckles, and it’s a deep, rich sound that draws me in, and I lean closer.
His eyes drop to my mouth, and a moment later he’s kissing me
The soft brush of his lips is not what I expect, and I’m completely thrown off balance. He doesn’t push me or rush me. It’s a sweet first kiss, like he’s testing the waters, almost like he’s wanting to make sure he’s got my consent before he goes further.
My head tilts back, and my mouth drops open, giving him what he wants. I can’t help it; he’s drawing a reaction from my body that takes me by surprise.
And oh my God, can this man kiss. It’s not like any kiss I’ve ever had before, and I don’t even know his name.
Finally, he pulls back and stares at my mouth.
“Damn,” he breathes, and I flush, thrilled he’s as enthralled with my kiss as I am with his.
Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me into the bedroom, and I follow willingly behind his broad shoulders.
“What’s your name?” I ask.
“Shine.”
“Shine?”
“Yup,” he replies, not stopping. The man is on a mission, and apparently, he’s done with chit-chat.
He glances around, taking it in, then spots the door to the bathroom and moves us that way.
I’m not sure what he’s planning until he reaches into the big shower stall and flips on the water, all the while never losing my hand. He adjusts the temperature and then turns to me.
“Was your ride up here long?” I blather like an idiot, nerves starting to get the best of me. For all my pretense, falling into bed with a stranger—or in this case, showering with a stranger—is not something I often do.
“Don’t want to talk,” he says in a low, sexy voice that sends a flash of heat through me.
“Oh.”
He doesn’t say anything more, just reaches for the hem of my shirt, and before I can react, it’s up and over my head.
Instinctively, I cross my arms over my exposed breasts. I’m standing in nothing but a pair of panties. Those don’t last long, though. His fingers hook in the fabric at my hip, and he yanks them off.
