Falling Free ( Falling Fast #3) by Tina Wainscott

Author:Tina Wainscott [Wainscott, Tina]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Publishing Group
Published: 2016-06-12T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

The dance floor was half filled now, lights swirling, people gyrating. The beat thrummed right through Grace’s chest.

Why should it surprise her that Tanner could dance? And dance really, really well. She thought about that study that had been published a while back, where the way a guy danced indicated his likelihood of being a good mate. Something about hip movement and how he used his arms…Then she decided that she really didn’t care about the particulars. Tanner must be doing it right, because watching him was making her hot.

Mondo hot.

And that heat coursed through her like a drug. All the sensuality she’d put in a deep freeze yawned and stretched sinuously, the icicles falling away.

Loosen up. Fall free.

Maybe she would, while they were dancing and nothing could really happen. She was burning up like the lovers on the sun in the David Guetta song pounding through the speakers. Tanner took her hand and twirled her into his body, her back coming into contact with the front of him. Then he spun her out again. She spun in this time, revolving enough to come face-to-face with him. They stopped for a full second, gazes locked, before she twirled out again.

He remained true to his word, never once staring down her shirt or grabbing her ass. The problem was, a part of her wanted him to grab her, touch her. She backed into him, coming close but not quite pressing her grinding booty into him. He took her hands and raised them above her head, matching the sway of her hips.

She saw a table full of twentysomethings enjoying Tanner’s dancing nearly as much as she did. Given the birthday balloons and the gift bags, the women were obviously celebrating. Grace felt an odd mixture of possessiveness and smugness. He’s mine, mine, mine.

Even if he wasn’t.

Watch it, a voice whispered as her tongue craved more of that dark, creamy ale. Don’t lose too much control, or you know you’ll be all over that boy.

They danced through a dozen songs, and when her body threatened to collapse she waved for him to go back to the table, where she dropped into her chair. They both sucked down their drinks and ordered more.

“Where did you learn to dance like that?” she asked once she could catch her breath. How long had it been since she’d done anything—anything—that made her breathless? That made her body ache from exertion, and filled her with pure exhilaration? She was covered in a sheen of sweat, and God, it all felt so good.

Maybe not as good as certain other activities, but this was safe.

He leaned close to be heard over the loud music. “I was a Chippendale dancer. Did it for a couple of years. Not fully nude stuff, just the rear view.” He sat back with that smirk of his, challenging her to figure out whether it was a lie.

Maybe this lying thing wasn’t such a good idea. Mostly because he was really good at it. She studied him, looking for any telltale twitch of his mouth, his eyes.

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