Jake’s throat went dry at the husky-voiced invitation. She stood motionless, but the air around her pulsed with an ancient, unmistakable need.
“I never get to dance,” she said.
It would have been easier to stop breathing than say no. He couldn’t do either, so he held out his hand, felt his breath catch as her fingers meshed with his, her other hand settling on his shoulder like a pigeon come home. He pulled her closer, leaving a single important inch between their bodies to salve his conscience as his hand cupped her waist, half on cotton, half on skin left bare by her brief top.
It felt right to have her in his arms. Like she’d always belonged there.
They began a shuffle that could be taken for dancing by someone on drugs. No one led. No one followed. He didn’t look at her. Knew she w
