Page 33 of Fighting Mr. Knight

“You’re fierce. I’m afraid if I get too close those cheekbones will slice me.”

“I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment.”

“Believe me, it is.”

Her smile comes out lopsided like the two sides of her face are in conflict.

As the song fades out, Bonnie drops her hands from my chest. “Thanks for the dance, Jack.” She tries to move away but I pin her with my hands.

“Wait,” I say hoarsely. “I need a minute.”

And she knows damn well why.

We stare at each other in a loaded silence with her body tight against my raging erection as oblivious guests fill the dance floor.

I clear my throat. “Let’s go outside for a while.”

Her eyes slant. “Why?”

“I want to talk to you alone.”

For a second I think she’s going to leave me hanging, something that hasn’t happened to me in well over two decades.

“Just for a minute. Please.”

Despite her mutterings, she lets me guide her in front of me to keep my exit from the dance floor PG.

“Jack, where’re you off to?” My mate Tristan slaps me on the back.

“Later.” I ignore his smirk and keep walking until we’re outside on the patio.

“Dance with me here?” I ask as a sexy jazz song starts. I couldn’t give a fuck about the rest of the crowd, but I need to feel her against me without every female member of my family watching.

She steals a cursory glance at the tent in my trousers. “Here?” she asks in a high pitch, looking around.

In response, I widen my stance and grab her by the waist, crushing her body against mine.“Yes, right here. Now will you be a good girl and let me lead?”

“I haven’t decided,” she says thickly.

It’s clear she wants me. She might not say it, but her body does—her flushed cheeks, parted lips, dilated eyes. Those sexy breasts heaving up and down.

Oh, darlin’, your lips might lie but the rest of your body screams the truth.

But something’s holding her back. Maybe she likes to be chased.

My right hand slides lower to the grey area between lower back and ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck, and we begin to rock slowly.

“See, this isn’t so bad?”

“Could be worse.” She’s biting her tongue. Maybe it’s a self-preservation thing. “I can’t believe you implied I’m a bad dancer. Kate said I was really coming along in the last lesson.”

I chuckle. “Kate’s a primary school teacher. That sounds like a line she uses on her students.”

Those eyes,fuck.They stop my breath short every time they focus on me. A shade I’ve never seen in anyone else.

“I know a lovely jazz bar in Soho where you can throw all the short-circuiting robot moves you want. Let’s grab some dinner this week then head there.”

---