Back in the Saddle (Jessica Brodie Diaries #1)(60)

I had seen hotter. I couldn’t recall when, but I was sure I had seen hotter. Must resist. I can beat this!

I stuffed my sex-starved thoughts to the back of my brain and took a business woman stance. Into his still heated gaze, I yawned.

A shot was put into my hand by Brad. William was armed as well. Everyone did a big cheers, and drank ‘em down. It was show time!

“I did not need that,” I said to nobody. Adam laughed at me.

If I kept drinking, soon the whole bar would be laughing at me.

Adam, Ty, Candace, William and I headed down to the dance floor. Everyone else gathered around the railing. This was sooo weird. Weird, but in the bag. A dude beat me on the dance floor? Not a chance.

Chapter Thirteen

I got to the top of the stairs as Adam, Candace and Ty started down. I hesitated. It was still just as steep.

“Here.” William stepped up and gave me his arm.

“Oh thank God. I didn’t want to try my luck.”

“Why wear such high shoes if you can’t navigate stairs?”

“Fashion takes no prisoners,” I said, wobbling slightly when my heel caught a step.

“What would you do if you had to do this alone?” William asked, clutching onto my arm as I pitched forward.

“Bouncer.”

I was only capable of one word answers. Walking on flat ground in bare feet would have been too much for me with William this close.

“Ah yes, that’s right. You can charm even the meanest of us.”

“Us?” I asked, relieved to see the bottom so close.

“Men.”

“That’s easy. Any vagina can do that.”

“Ri-ight,” William said, drawing out the word as we hit the ground floor.

I turned to face him with a laugh on my lips. “That word make you nervous? Vagina? Does the word vagina make you nervous?”

William was looking at my mouth. He shook his head slowly. When his eyes met mine the world ceased to exist. All I could see where those deep, clear blue eyes, pulling me in and eating me alive.

“Y’all gonna do this or what?”

William blinked then started. He looked around us then back at me, his brow scrunching at our proximity. Before I could get embarrassed, a sexy smile lit up his face. “She was breaking rule six.”

“Ha!” I yelled with a grin, flushed and horny and crazy and probably needing to pull the emergency brake. Instead, I flicked my hair, handed Candace my beer, and walked toward the dance floor. “I’ll go first.”

I hadn’t even moved a hip before some douche-bag was trying to grind up on me. Without the patience I had earlier, I gave him a mighty shove. The guy nearly got air as he fell away. I waited two seconds for the tail-end of the current song to finish and a new song to begin. It was Brittany Spears.

Cake walk.

I started moving to the music. Slow at first, then getting more into it. My h*ps popped one way, my shoulders rolling another. I turned, I twisted, I gyrated, I rocked, I even threw in a Thriller move from Michael Jackson as a crowd pleaser.

As I loosened up, I threw out some hip hop moves, saving the more serious pole dancing moves for the next dance. You had to leave some surprises.

The only problem was the “open for business” sign that all the single boys saw. No sooner did I push one away then another jogged up. And I say “jogged” because I had yet to find one guy that could dance. It was damned irritating. Tools, too, the lot of them.

When the song finished I pushed off the latest yahoo and wound my way back to the others. I wiped a fresh sheen of sweat from my forehead and gave a low bow. Next I walked right in front of William, a challenge in my eyes. I must have made an impression. Must have.

“Think you can do better?” I asked with a satisfied smirk.

He saw my smirk and raised me an eye twinkle. He leaned toward me and whispered, “Piece of cake.”

Too cool for school, eh? Pa-lease.

The next song started. It was one I didn’t recognize. We were supposed to wait for Adam to pick the songs, but no one cared that much.

William walked into the crowd, throwing up a fist to the guys at our booth. They started cheering, echoing down to the dance floor. William’s smile grew to one of jubilance. He started off with the cabbage patch of all things. Then to the Sprinkler. The problem was...I’d just found the one guy in this whole bar with rhythm…and he was my competition.

Crap!

Still, he was a dude. And I was a rock star.

He did what I’d done, which was have fun with it, but manly somehow. He did the MC Hammer, some Running Man, then some freaking Esher! All done perfectly. He was large and in charge, and hot as hell.

I swear my groin was dancing with him it was throbbing so hard. I wanted to go out and join him; push up against him and grind until the cows came home. Or he took me home.

The women on the dance floor had the same idea. They were treating him like the men treated me. He treated them nearly the same as I treated the men, which was to remove them. He was a little gentler, though.

“This is how he gets all his wo...I mean, dates,” Adam said next to me.

“What’s that?” I yelled over the music.

“Willie—how he gets his dates. All he has to do is show up on the dance floor and he has ten women ready to throw their underwear at him.”

“Ah. Nice.”