Chapter Ten
Brynn
walked out onto the dance floor with Everett McCabe's fingers twined in mine, with every intention of shuffling in a slow circle with him as if this really were my senior prom. Asking him to dance with something I never thought he'd actually agree to, and I couldn't imagine staid, conservative, uptight Rett McCabe being able to truly cut a rug.
But then again, the way this evening had been going with all of the surprises, it shouldn't have surprised me in the slightest that he took me confidently into his arms and started steering us both across the dance floor.
"Okay," I said, exhaling for a second. "Now you're the one who's making me look good."
He grinned down at me. God, he was so freaking tall. How did any person grow to be that tall? He was like a graceful tree or something.
"I actually can't dance for shit," I confessed.
"Follow my lead," he said, pressing his hand against my back.
I didn't want to let on how good it felt to have it there. "I really don't have a choice, do I?" I teased.
He didn't answer, instead sweeping us around until we were in the very center of the small dance floor. Around us, a few scattered fifty-something executives shuffled with their sequin-bedecked wives, but when the song changed, three other couples abandoned the dance floor, leaving only two remaining. We were the only people our age out here, but for once I didn't feel awkward. How could I when Rett was holding me so close, his strong hand in the small of my back pressing me up against him as he moved us both?
I closed my eyes and let him lead me.
The fabric of his suit trousers just brushed between my legs as we swished in a circle. My breath was coming in short little gasps that had nothing to do with the exertion of dancing. "People are watching us," I commented as he turned me in a skillful spin.
He caught me back in his arms. "That's because we are the best dancers on the floor," he said, and even though it sounded like he was bragging, it was nothing more than a simple statement of fact. We really were the best dancers on the floor.
Actually... "You're the best dancer on the floor," I pointed out to him. "I'm just using you to look good." I grinned. "Is there anything you can't do, Eagle Scout McCabe?"
His eyes flashed down at me, and he grinned but didn't answer and I knew exactly what he was saying without him saying it. He was good at everything. And what's more, I already knew that.
I knew how good he was.
Heat that had no business being anywhere in my body radiated outward from my core and I dragged my eyes away from his.
We're friends, I chanted to myself, ignoring the way his leg brushed against my thigh as he moved me. That was just a one-time thing. It's not happening again. It'll never happen again. I squeezed my eyes shut, ignoring the way he seemed to know my body as well as I knew it myself, ignoring the skillful way his hands moved me, applying light pressure here, or a gentle nudge there. Moving me so skillfully that I could almost be moving myself. Making me look way better than I could ever do alone.
We are just friends, I reminded myself once again. We've known each other forever, he's my brother's friend, he's just familiar enough to be comfortable.
We're using each other.
I settled back into that thought with an almost audible sigh of relief. "You're just using me to look good in front of your coworkers," I said, craning my neck upward to whisper in his ear. "You needed a good way to show off."
He turned his head, so that his cheek barely brushed against mine, but there was no denying the trail of goosebumps that marched right down my spine. "You want to use me now?" he murmured against my cheek.
I pulled back. His eyes looked darker than they had any right to be. I licked my lips. His mouth right there, filling my vision. "I just might," I breathed again.
His lips caught mine. There was no other word for the way he laid claim to them. His kiss was slow, melting, and even if we hadn't been spinning around the dance floor, I still got dizzy. His thigh was between my legs and my breath caught as it brushed up, pressing upward. I pulled away from the kiss and stared at him.
He couldn't have known what he was doing.
He held my gaze as he pressed his hand downward on the small of my back just as he lifted his knee. I gasped.
He knew exactly what he was doing.
I closed my eyes against the pressure, feeling the heat gathering there at my center, feeling the need throbbing lower.
He pressed down harder at the base of my spine when I bore down a little on his thigh. I exhaled sharply.
"Everyone is watching," he whispered and then moved his thigh again, brushing up then down.
My breath caught in my throat. "Jesus," I whispered, gasping. "Jesus, Rett."
He pulled back a little, leaving me panting. His eyes caught mine and there was something different there, something other than the friendly, dependable guy that had been in my life forever. "I'm going to take you home," he said, his voice low and dripping with a heavy promise. "Come with me."
Everything in my body screamed at me to reel it in, and dial it back. But there was something so intoxicating about hearing him tell me what to do. What was going to happen next. It was so freeing just to let him lead me. There was such power in giving it over to him, and letting him decide.
So when I opened my mouth, the word that came out was, "Yes."