Rules of Protection (Tangled in Texas #1)(5)

His stare was unnerving as he tightened his grip on my hand. “Like I said, you owe me.”

Defensively, I yanked my hand from his and narrowed my eyes as the slow song ended. “You can’t force me to do something I don’t want to do.”

“Oh, you want to. You’re just being difficult.”

People cheered as a faster song boomed from the large speakers; apparently, it was popular. I turned to leave the dance floor, but he grabbed me from behind, snaking his arms around my waist. His warm breath caressed my neck. My ass practically cradled his groin as he grinded into me to the beat of the music.

He stroked his large hands along the outside of my thighs, lifting my miniskirt slightly. Then he swiveled his pelvic area back and forth across my ass until my hips were as loose as his. Maybe he was just feeling frisky, but I had to admit the man had moves.

Gina, Dale, and I had a theory about how a man dances representing their sexual ability. In other words, a guy who can’t catch a beat on the dance floor probably has no rhythm in the bedroom, either. So far, the theory had proven true. At least that’s what Gina and Dale told me. If Jake’s presence on the dance floor was any indication of what he was like in bed, then I’d let him dry f*ck me any day of the week.

Jake spun me around to face him. He pulled me closer, though I didn’t think it was possible without crawling under his skin. His dreamy eyes focused on mine intently, penetrating deep, as if he were probing my most intimate parts. He may as well have had his hand up my skirt. The thought alone made me whimper.

I should’ve kept walking instead of allowing him to stop me. I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I know…but I shouldn’t have been thinking it.

“I won’t ask twice,” he demanded.

Our faces were almost touching. My gaze traveled between his lips and his eyes, contemplating my decision. From our previous encounter, I knew what a tasty morsel he was, and I was starving for more of his…Oh God! I’m going to hell. Drawing a breath, I did what any self-respecting girl would do. I plastered my face to his and held on tight.

A low, guttural sound came from deep within his throat as his tongue glided over mine. My fingers locked behind his neck. His hand slid down to my ass, grabbing a handful, and a hot wave of sensation melted me against him.

My heart hammered against the walls of my chest. I knew nothing involving my heart could be good for either of us—especially since it’s the one organ in my body I didn’t intend to let him near. I tore away from him, stumbling back.

He looked surprised at first, but then averted his eyes to scope the room. “It worked. I don’t see them anymore.”

“Them?” I asked angrily. “Jesus, how many women are you trying to detour?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Sure it isn’t.”

He glanced over at me. “You’re mad again?”

“I don’t like being used.”

“I didn’t use you, at least not how you’re making it sound. You knew what this was.”

“What’s your point?”

“You walked into this with your eyes wide open, and now you’re mad because you didn’t like what you saw.”

My eyes narrowed. “God, why are men such a*sholes?”

“Because women are…you know what, never mind. I don’t have time for this. I’ve got better things to do.”

He walked away before I could protest and left me standing on the dance floor alone. Frustrated, I made my way back to the table where Gina and Dale waited impatiently.

“Where’s the dreamboat?” Dale asked.

I gave him a sour look.

Dale laughed. “What, no love connection?”

Gina smiled as I picked up my vodka and chugged it. “Damn, girl. He got to you.”

“Shut up.”

She laughed, too. “You know if a man buys you a drink and you take it without going home with him, then you’re a tease.”

“Yeah, but if you go home with him, then you’re a slut.”

Dale grinned. “She’s got you there, Gina.”

“I’d rather be a slut than a tease any day. It’s more fun.”

“Well, I’m not you,” I told Gina. “I’m not going to springboard myself into some guy’s bed because he has a heartbeat and a blood supply that pools below his belt.”

“Hell, I’m not sure Gina considers the heartbeat mandatory,” Dale said.

She shook her head. “You two are wrong. I’m very selective when it comes to men.”

“Are you kidding?” I asked, lifting my brows. “You choose men the same way a child picks out a new puppy; first one who crawls in your lap is yours.”

Dale broke into hysterics.

“You guys are jerks,” Gina said to him.

“It’s a joke,” Dale said, still laughing.

Gina crossed her arms, fuming mad.

“Well, I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier,” I said to her. “But tonight, before you picked me up, I shaved my bikini area.”

Dale and Gina both looked puzzled. “So what?” she asked.

“I thought I’d try something new and be…um…creative.”

Dale looked confused. “What did you do?”