When she twirls again, a kaleidoscope of rainbow reflections sparkle off her. Her outfit is gaudy as fuck. If she’s trying to gain attention wearing that, her purpose can be deemed successful. Gawkers are gathering at an inhumane rate, proving I’m not the only one noticing Keegan’s bold display. An animalistic roar drums into my ears. All rational thought is captured by the sight of her, sweeping away with the wind. Untapped need so potent crashes into me, leaving only the desire to claim standing.
Damn, I guess hunting is on tonight’s menu after all.
I give my outfit a rushed appraisal. Faded jeans and a plain, white T-shirt are my standard. No visible stains in sight. It was appropriate for this venture, until now. Will I stick out worse than usual? Do I care? Not even a single shit. I tug the brim of my hat down lower and storm toward the entrance.
The door nearly rips off its hinges with my brute force. I prowl into the belly of blatant cravings and yearning. The urge to flee threatens to deflate my surge of courage, but burning hunger pushes me harder. A putrid cloud of sweat and artificial smoke greets me. Bronco Buck is the definition of hell for me. The space is flooded with an extra dose of everything I hate. But I long to be near Keegan more than I want to be comfortable.
This place has to be pushing maximum capacity. The actual bar is crowded with drunk assholes tossing out money for another round. Hip-hop music is cranked so loud the booming beat vibrates off my ribs. I assume the speakers will blow any minute. Stale heat clings in the dry air, giving my skin an immediate sheen. A dizzying array of flashing lights streak across the ceiling and walls. Gyrating bodies pack the dance floor, but I’m only drawn to one.
My boots are already covering the distance separating us before I can comprehend striding across the sticky ground. There’s too much noise, but I can see the outline of her glittering curves just fine, her rhythm so liquid a wave should be jealous. Swaying hips that follow a far more sensual beat than the song playing. This woman is enchanting, and I’m cast under her hex. I erase the remaining feet that dare to keep us apart. Coconut, fresh flowers, and ocean breeze assault my senses—my very own strip of tropical paradise right here in Silo Springs. The temperature spikes, sending tendrils of fire straight to my groin. I reach out and clasp her hip in a bold grip, guiding her to the edge of the fray. Keegan startles against me, whipping around to see who’s man-handling her.
“Ford?” Her eyes blow wide open.
I lean down, my mouth to her ear. “You look surprised to see me.”
“Because I am.” Her lips brush the stubble on my cheek. “But even more shocked you’re voluntarily talking to me.”
“It didn’t feel like a choice.” I squeeze her waist, relinquish my hold, and straighten so we’re facing one another. In this position, we’re forced to over-enunciate and shout. Two more reasons why Bronco Buck is the worst.
Keegan scrunches her forehead. “Am I supposed to know what that means?”
That I’m being a fucking weirdo? Probably not. “Just seemed necessary.”
“Okay? That’s…cryptic.” Flashing lights paint her face, bathing her in neon hues. “What’s up, Ford? This doesn’t seem like your scene.”
“It’s not. How about you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business, but it isn’t my favorite. Anymore,” she adds as an almost afterthought.
“Why now?” I rub at the dryness spreading in my throat. Between the smoke and having to nearly shout, I’ll be hoarse tomorrow.
“Girls’ night out.”
“With who?”
Keegan points over my shoulder. I turn to see a familiar face watching us with laser focus. Josey grew up in this town, just like me. A big difference is she continues to be part of normal civilization. I haven’t seen her since we graduated high school. She waves at me, and I give a nod in return.
Like a magnet, my gaze swings back to Keegan. That pull won’t quit, thrumming from the very core of me. I can’t draw a decent breath with her this close. All I want is to drag her into me so we can get lost together.
“Of course, you know Josey.” She fans her face, oblivious to my internal struggle.
I focus on what’s important. “Hot?”
“Sweltering,” she corrects.
Hauling her out of here would easily solve that problem. I curl my hands into fists to remove temptation. Flames lick my body, but for an entirely different reason. Is she feeling this torture?
“Why are you staring at me?”
Because I want to be buried eight inches deep inside of her. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to have her molten center clenching around me. And now I’m harder than steel. My dick twitches, more than willing to show off for Keegan. Dammit. She brings out the worst in me, or maybe it’s the best. I blink, clearing the fog from my mind. “Uh, what?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Are you drunk?”
“Completely sober. You?” I want to cup her cheek, tipping up until our lips meet. Would she let me?
She rocks a hand back and forth. “Eh, I’ve had a few. But I’m perfectly coherent. Don’t go thinking you can take advantage.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” I swallow, trying to soothe the ache. “Can we go somewhere quiet? Between the yelling and sorry excuse for music, my brain is ringing.”
“Why would we do that?” Her smile is coy.
“To talk.”
“About?”
I suck air through my teeth. “Whatever we want.”
She toys with a lock of golden hair. I imagine weaving those blonde strands through my fingers, pinning her against me while I sink to the hilt. “I have a few ideas.”
Her suggestion drips with seduction, and I’m far enough
