Page 12 of Sweet Passions at Bayside
“We were not sexting!” Emery grabbed Dean’s beer and took another drink.
“In any case”—Serena waved toward the dance floor—“I think Dean owes you a dance.”
The last thing he needed was to dirty dance with Emery. He’d be aroused in seconds and Drake and Rick would have a blast teasing him about it. “I don’t want to dance,” he said sharply.
“Tough toenails. You owe me.” Emery hauled him out of his seat and toward the dance floor.
Who was he kidding? He’d let her lead him around by the nose if she wanted to.
The song “Hands to Myself” began playing, and Emery fell into a hip-swaying, shoulders-rolling dance, singing about wanting him all to herself. Her voice—and those words—were as intoxicating as tequila. Her arms moved like graceful snakes over her head as she turned in a circle, her butt brushing against his hips. Man, the girl could make a dead man come alive. She glanced over her shoulder, her long hair curtaining one eye. A sultry smile curved her lips as she sang about not being able to keep her hands to herself and wanting hisall.
I’ll give you my all, all right—and then some.
She turned, her hips brushing against his, and he hauled her against him, matching her every move with a bump and grind of his own. He wedged his thigh between hers and guided her arms around his neck, bringing her soft, pliable body against him.
“Thought you couldn’t dance,” she said as he settled his hands on her hips, never missing a beat.
“I said I didn’twantto dance. There’s a difference.” Now that he was deliciously wrapped up in her, he wasn’t about to let go. “Hold tight, baby doll.”
He dipped her over his arm and she followed his lead, arching and swaying, her hips pressed tightly against his. When she rose upright again, she held his gaze. Her hands played over his pecs and then wound around his neck, driving him out of his mind one touch at a time. She dragged her fingernails along the back of his neck, and he imagined dozens of dirty ways he could get those sexy nails to dig deeper.
“You’re quite a dancer, big guy.”
Her voice jarred him from his fantasies, but it was like swimming to the surface of a volcano. Every touch, every glance, brought more wicked desires. His hands slid down her hips, up her back, and into her hair. He loved her silky hair. Their eyes connected, holding for a long, sizzling moment. He was vaguely aware of the song ending, the beat changing, but he continued dancing, unwilling to break their spell. She licked her lips, and he was sure she was right there with him. She arched back again, holding on to his arms, her hair fanning out behind her as she swayed in an arc. He struggled to keep himself in check, but as she rose, her chest grazed his and his restraint snapped. He couldn’t keep from lowering his mouth toward hers, to finally claim the kiss he’d dreamed about for so long. Her eyes closed, her shoulders rocked, and just as his lips hovered over hers, she dipped back again, headbutting him in the chin.
“Son of a—” He swallowed a string of curses.
“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry! I was so lost in dancing, I didn’t see your face there.” She reached for his cheeks, stroking his beard. “Wow, that’s so soft. That beard stuff really works, huh?”
He groaned. How could their bodies be so close, the heat be so intense, and their thoughts be that far apart? “I didn’t know I needed a chin guard.”
“How many times have I told you that I can be oblivious to things? I’m buying you a football helmet to wear around me. I’m so sorry. I just got carried away.” She fluttered her sexy lashes and said, “Take it as a compliment. It means we connected.”
Not exactly the connection I was hoping for.
Chapter Three
THE NEXT MORNING Emery woke with the sun, lying in Violet’s guest bedroom planning the first day of her new life. She couldn’t wait to check out her studios at the inn and at the resort. She planned to hold most of her yoga classes outdoors, but Desiree and Violet had renovated the den as a studio for when it rained. The guys at Bayside Resort had created a wonderful community center last summer, where she could hold classes in bad weather, and they were allowing her to use one of the offices there, too. She was excited to put up some of her decorations and make each of those spaces her own.
She climbed out of bed and stretched, thinking about last night. She’d had so much fun seeing everyone again, and spending time with Desiree. She couldn’t believe she already had a date lined up with…Oh gosh. What was his name?She winced and then remembered it was Dave something or other. They were meeting at the Beachcomber, an oceanside restaurant and bar. Dean had looked annoyed about her date, but he would be happy once he realized she’d heeded the advice he’d given her over the winter. Or rather, themandatehe’d given her when he’d read her the riot act about leaving a bar with some guy she’d just met to go have pizza.Safety 101, Emery! You don’t give up control to a guy you don’t know. You’re in his car. You’re under his control. No more of that nonsense. Got it?
She smiled to herself with the memory. As if her older brothers hadn’t taught her enough self-defense for her to be able to protect herself if things got out of hand.Sheesh!Though she had to admit, she liked Dean’s protective nature. It was adorable. Especially when he’d sent her a mad-faced selfie afterward.
She scrolled to one of those pictures on her phone. Austin was right; he did look like a Viking. His thick arms were crossed over his massive chest. Tattoos covered his left shoulder, pecs, and biceps. His beard was trimmed into a neat V, making him appear even more serious. His piercing blue eyes stared straight ahead, both intimidating and a turn-on. Heat tiptoed up her chest, and she blew out a breath.Don’t even go there. You stink at relationships.
She wasn’t stupid enough to ruin their friendship or to put her job at risk.Been there, done that.
Thinking about their dance, and the way his big, strong body had moved with the fluidity of a man half his size, she absently rubbed her head where she’d bonked his chin.
I am such a klutz.
She zipped off a text to him,Sorry for the headbutt, added a smiley emoticon, and then typed,You never told me you were secretly a dirty dancer.It wasn’t until after she sent it that she realized it was only six thirty in the morning. He was probably out running with Drake and Rick, like most mornings.
She set her phone on the dresser and padded out to the kitchen to get some ice water with lemon, her go-to morning drink. She opened the fridge and was surprised to find a pitcher of ice water with sliced lemons floating in it. Warmed by the thought that Violet had remembered, she took it as a sign that today was going to be a great day.
As she poured herself a glass of water, Violet’s bedroom door opened and a very tall, verynakedman sauntered out. He had a mop of dark hair on his head, a sprinkling on his chest, andholy mother of hotness, he was perfectly manscaped below the waist.
“Mornin’.” His lips curved up in a crooked grin that reminded her of Dermot Mulroney.
