Page 84 of False Play
I leaned against the front bar as I lifted my beer bottle to catch the bartender’s attention to get another round while Henry was in the restroom.
A guy with the shiniest boots I’d ever seen and a fake smile leaned against the bar. “Hey, beautiful. What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?”
“Not alone. I’m with some friends.” I tilted my head to where Val and Owens were sitting, taking a break from dancing.
He scrubbed his jaw as his eyes raked over my body in a way that made me instantly recoil. He was the type of man I’d been attracted to once—pretty smile, perfectly styled hair underneath the hat, and slim. Exactly like Joe. But I couldn’t help but compare him to a certain six-foot-seven athlete. He didn’t bring the same energy, nor did the way he was checking me out make me feel the way Henry did every time he stared at me so intensely.
“How about you ditch them and join me?” He leaned closer.
I took a step back. “No, thanks.”
“Aw, come on. I promise I’ll show you a good time.”
Arms I’d come to recognize instantly by the feel of them wrapped around my waist as he pressed my body against his. “She doesn’t need you to show her a good time,” Henry said gruffly.
The guy craned his neck, and his eyes bulged in shock. “Holy shit, you’re Henry Anderson. I’m a huge fan.”
“If you’re such a huge fan, then stop flirting with my woman,” Henry deadpanned.
Dear God, there was no reason why I found the way he saidmy womanso hot, but it did. My back tensed, and my skin shivered under the gruffness of his voice. If any other man had done the same, I’d have been kicking their balls. But with him, I wanted to hear it again.
“She didn’t say she had a boyfriend,” the guy tried to defend himself.
“I had already said no, though,” I fired back with a raise of my brow. “Or are you allergic to the word no?”
The guy had the decency to look embarrassed as he quickly apologized and scurried away without another word.
Henry turned me around and gripped my waist. “You should have waited for me, I could have gotten the drinks.”
“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”
He smirked, the movement making his dimples pop. “Oh, believe me, I know.”
I looked at the dance floor over my shoulder then at him. “You still haven’t shown me your moves.”
An amused laugh escaped him as he grabbed my hand and led me to the dance floor. “How about you show me what you got, Kenny baby?”
“Prepare to become obsessed with me, pretty boy,” I said as “Sangria” by Blake Shelton started playing.
One of his hands met my waist, and we swayed together, our boots scuffing against the concrete floor in a perfect rhythm.
His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’re pretty good.”
I gave him a half-shrug. “My grandparents from my mom’s side grew up in a small town in Tennessee. They taught me how to dance.”
He twirled me once then closed the gap between us. The way his broad chest rested against mine made delicious goosebumps break across my body. “You’re full of surprises, Kennedy Jones.”
I craned my head, and we were so close, our lips slightly brushed as I replied, “Could say the same about you, Henry Anderson.”
His smile was bright, and the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. I liked his smile and how smitten he looked every time he stared at me, like I was the only thing he was paying attention to. It made me…braver, bolder.
I couldn’t fathom what was going through my mind when my eyes flicked to his lips. All I knew was I was drunk on him. I was high on the carelessness of it all.
Without thinking, and through my already stated haze of him, and the perfect night, I gripped the nape of his neck and locked my lips on his in a soft kiss. His body tensed underneath my touch, and his lips remained stilled with shock, but after a beat or two, he gripped my waist tightly with both of his hands and brought me even closer to him. There was not even an inch of gap between us. I was fairly certain that if a piece of paper had been slipped between us, it would have stayed perfectly still.
I tentatively swiped my tongue across his bottom lip, and he heaved a breath as he parted them, his tongue meeting mine with eagerness. My other hand found its way to his shirt and fisted it as I desperately clung to him. I wanted to stay in the moment and keep savoring the way his lips tasted like sour orange mixed with the perfect amount of bitterness from the beer we had been drinking all night.
My body buzzed with need like a fizzling soda. The pressure building in my lower belly was too much. It was debilitating, the way IwantedHenry. It was overwhelming, the way I knew I wanted to cross all the lines with him and never look back.
