“There’s a huge difference. I’ll explain it to you when we’re sober,” Dana adds.

There is an immense difference between a relationship and fucking . . . I’m just learning that myself. He doesn’t take me to dinner or pull me close like a second skin after sex. We just have this thing—an intense, sanity-stealing chemistry—that makes it impossible to keep our hands to ourselves. In some ways, it’s more powerful than the connection I had with Derek. No feelings—just a fierce, undeniable attraction.

I didn’t move here with any intention of starting something like this so soon, but sometimes we don’t get to choose where we land. Life has taught me that over and over again in both good and bad ways. With Blake, I must have had a choice, but I don’t remember choosing him.

Shaking my thoughts, I bring my focus back to the group around me. Reece stares at me incredulously, and it dawns on me that I haven’t officially introduced her to my . . . whatever he is. When I finally take a chance and look up at him, he’s staring at me with this amused expression on his face. Watching me squirm is entertaining to him, I guess. “Blake, you’ve already met Dana, but this is Reece. She’s a friend from my other job.”

“Like a peanut butter cup?” Blake jokes, shifting his eyes to Reece. I instantly want his attention back. He’s not mine, but he is.

“Blake, stop!” I groan, just loud enough that my group around the table hears me.

“These two seem like they could use some alone time. Let’s go dance,” Dana suggests. Her wide eyes shift from me to Reece, silently begging her to agree so they can get out from under the awkwardness at our table.

“Only if you promise to keep me far away from Crotch-to-Ass guy,” Reece responds.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find someone sexy for you to grind with.”

Reece looks like the music just cued up on that popular shark attack movie, and she’s about to be clamped in the jaw of the giant fish. “Or we could just leave.”

Dana laughs. “Nope. Come on.”

My shy new friend wrings her hands together as she stares at me from across the table. A good person would rescue her from the water, but being around Blake doesn’t necessarily put me under the best light. “Go, I’ll join you guys in a couple minutes.”

After one last narrowing of her eyes, she begrudgingly follows Dana. As they disappear into the crowd, I look over and meet Blake’s gaze. There’s a sparkle in his eye I rarely see. A gorgeous smile curves his lips. He makes it incredibly hard to remember why I was angry with him just seconds ago.

His hand moves between my barely covered legs, his fingers slowly working their way upward. My breath hitches. He wouldn’t go there . . . not here with all these people surrounding us. A little higher, and I know I’m wrong. This man has no inhibitions. “Come home with me.”

“I need another drink first.” I alternate between swallowing down my rebuttal and squeezing my thighs together. Swallow. Squeeze. Swallow. Squeeze. If our waitress doesn’t come back soon, I’ll have no choice but to throw back whatever I can find on the table to help drown these nerves.

“I can do so much more for you than a drink ever can. You should know that by now.” His voice purrs, his breath hitting my cheek. He’s not exaggerating, but I’m not leaving just yet.

The waitress reappears before I get a chance to turn him down . . . or that’s what I think I was going to do. “I need another margarita, please. The largest one you’ve got.”

She glances between Blake and me, shaking her head. “You got it.”

As soon as she turns her back, Blake surprises me by pressing his lips to my neck—that magical spot right below my ear. I moan softly, feeling the familiar tingle travel down my spine.

“That good, huh?” he whispers against my skin.

Maybe it’s just the tequila, but I need his hands on me—all over me. My next words surprise even me. “Dance with me.”

His grin could melt thousands of panties and break a million hearts. Damn him. “I don’t dance.”

“Not a big deal,” I say, pushing against his shoulder to hint that I want out. “I’ll find someone else to rub their hands all over my body.”

He groans, angling himself to cage me in. “I dare you.”

“Well, Blake,” I say, patting his strong chest. “A dare is something I never walk away from.”

His attention darts to my lips and just when I think he might kiss me, he slides out of the booth. “This should be fun,” he announces, crossing his arms over his chest.

Without a second thought, I scoot out and bring myself up so we’re chest to chest. There’s a playful glimmer in his eyes—one I usually only witness seconds before he devours me. It’s taking every bit of my self-control not to beg him to take me home and do what he promised earlier.

I lift myself to my tiptoes, using his shoulders as leverage. I close the gap between us, and when he smiles like I might kiss him, I change paths until my lips are against his ear. “I’ll be back in a little while . . . maybe.”

I spin around, swaying my hips to show him what he’s missing. I’m probably not very good at it, but the alcohol helps.

“Hey, Lemon Drop!” he yells when I’m a few steps away.

I look over my shoulder. “Yeah?”

“You’ll be back.”

IT TAKES ME A COUPLE MINUTES to find the perfect target on the dance floor. If I’m going to toy with Blake, I need to make him believe that whoever I find is just as good, if not better than him. He needs to feel challenged.

That’s not going to be an easy find around here—the good-looking part. This isn’t exactly one of those hip downtown clubs.

Then I see him—a guy leaning against the wall, the neck of a beer bottle wrapped in his fingers. He’s got this sexy aura about him—longish dark hair swept to one side, a tight white T-shirt that tapers at his waist and ripped blue jeans. He’ll definitely work—my mother would kill me if she saw me with him.

I stare at him.

He stares back at me, eyes roaming the length of my body.

I stand still, trying to work up the courage to approach him. Where’s the liquid courage when I need it? Before I can talk my feet into moving forward, he pushes off the wall and starts in my direction. His eyes stay on me, dark and seducing. The whole thing plays like a movie in slow motion. My heart hammers—not like it does when I’m with Blake—but with heightening nerves.

Without a word, he grabs my hand and pulls me out in the middle of the packed dance floor. Calvin Harris pumps through the club as he wraps one arm around my waist. My body tenses just for a second, then the alcohol gets ahold of me. I’d be out the door if it weren’t for the help of Jose Cuervo. Instead, I’m pressed against a complete stranger. Letting him touch me, feel every curve of my body. It doesn’t feel right, but it doesn’t feel wrong either. When I dare look back into his eyes, he’s assessing me, silently begging me to relax against him.

I close my eyes, and I try.

He tightens his arm around my waist, bringing us even closer. This room is suddenly too warm. Too much Jose. Too much of the dark stranger. Too much of Blake. I’m not quite sure what to do with my hands so I wrap my fingers around his strong biceps. It’s safe—not too inviting.

“Relax,” he whispers against my ear.

I nod, drawing in all the oxygen my lungs will hold. He moves us together using his hold on me, and as the song switches, I find my groove. I slide up and down his body, enjoying how free I feel. I feel alcohol flowing in my veins.

The dark stranger glides his hands over the curve of my ass at the same time he leans in to whisper in my ear. “Is this what you had in mind when you looked at me like that from across the room? Because I had a little more than this in mind.”

His lips skim my neck. My breath is stolen from me. The English language leaves me stranded. I wanted to play, to dance, to make Blake jealous, because maybe deep down inside, I want something more than he’s given me.