Bait: The Wake Series, Book One(3)

“I doubt that.”

I feigned offense. “That's awfully cocky. You're the cocky twin then?” I retorted in an attempt to knock his peg down a rung. I failed. Miserably.

“If you mean I have the better cock, then yeah. I'm the cock one.”

“I said cocky.” My mouth went dry and even though it played right into his hands, I took a long drink of my beer.

Casey leaned in and said, “See? You already can't get enough.”

“You're trouble.”

“Yeah, I am trouble. And you should go dance with your friends before you find out what kind.” The mischievous gleam in his hazel eyes promised he could back up the threat.

That called for another long drink. Did I want trouble? I typically wasn't a trouble seeker. So why didn't I want to walk away? God, I probably looked like a fool standing there with my beer glass that hovered in front of my mouth while I stared at him. All I could think about was that mouth and those teeth all over me.

I broke my blatant stare and, instead, watched his lips move in the mirror behind the bar as he said, “I can tell you right now, that isn't a good idea.”

“What? You don't know what I'm thinking.” I blushed. Did he? No. But what had he assumed I'd thought?

I stole a glance at the dance floor and then my eyes went right back to him. Standing there flirting probably would get me in trouble.

I had a boyfriend.

I had an almost fiancé.

But he stayed in Seattle. He made his choice. A voice inside me said, this might be a good time to sow some oats. Surely, it had to be better to cheat on a boyfriend than a fiancé. I'd never once cheated before. It wasn't how I rolled. But Casey was too good to pass up.

What would one night hurt? I was drunk, right? This happened to people all the time. They made poor decisions after drinking too much. I hadn't drunk enough to completely sever myself from my better judgment, but I had drunk enough to pretend I had.

I was going to hate myself in the morning, but I did, in fact, want his trouble. I was too curious.

“Compromise?” I asked.

Casey's dark eyebrows shot up at my challenge. I’d caught him off-guard.

“I'll leave your trouble over here, like you advise. If you follow my trouble over there.” The bass was thumping and it sounded like everyone was about to get their sexy back and that included me.

Acting so wanton was out of character; it must have been the beer.

Best-case scenario, we’d have a great time dancing and I’d make a new friend. Best worst-case scenario, I'd finally get those dirty clothes off.

He was clever man. I could tell. He asked no questions and simply picked up his beer, grabbed my free hand and started us in the direction of the dance floor. He turned around and walked backward with the sexiest sway to his shoulders. Then, he stopped short of the dance floor.

“I've already warned you. You won't be able to get enough. Now, here's your chance to stop this, while you still have the willpower.” He was both menacing and tempting.

My warm cheeks tightened and I couldn't help but cackle out loud with a resounding, “Ha!” I pointed my finger straight at his face and bent over. He was kidding and flirting, but also I knew he spoke some truth. It didn't matter though, because I still followed that cocky man.

Playful and shamefaced, he admitted, “My moves are potent. You've been warned, honeybee.” His hips began swaying in time to the beat. He danced right where he stood. He was joking, but as soon as his body touched mine I knew it wouldn't be enough.

Honeybee? Could he be any more swoon-worthy?

“What’s with the honeybee thing? You have an insect fetish?” I asked. Praying to God that I was wrong. I mean, it was likely that I was way off base, but you never knew. People were weird.

“I don’t know. Your eyes kind of look like honey and your name starts with a B. Plus, you sort of have this buzz about you.” His eyebrows bunched together and he waited to see if I bought it, then added, “Maybe I do have a thing for bugs.”

We both tried not to laugh, mouths puckered.

He said, “I don’t know why I picked it, I just did. I can stop.”

“No. Don’t. I like it.”

We made our way onto the dance floor in time for the end of the song and for another one to begin. There was that awkward silence in between songs. We looked at each other expectantly. That was about the time when I realized I was f*cked. I knew the next song when it began. Casey's eyes lit up like he would have picked it himself. And then there was that smile again.