My eyes never leave them. I watch every move he makes. The song turns slow and I’m out of my seat stalking toward them. No fucking way is he going to hold her.

“MY TURN,” I hear his deep voice rumble behind me.

Lance backs away with his hands up. He looks at me and winks. “Thanks for the dance, Kens.”

I hear Maxton growl as he wraps his arms around my waist and turns me to face him, holding me tight against his chest. Words aren’t necessary; he says everything with his eyes. Those gorgeous eyes are currently locked on mine. I slide my hands up around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair. He releases a heavy sigh as he tightens his grip on my waist and we start to move. I’m not sure you can even call what we’re doing dancing. He’s holding me so tight, it’s more of a small sway back and forth. I’ve had a few drinks, more than I normally would. I don’t know why, but something tells me it’s okay to let loose a little with Maxton around. I definitely would not have fallen willingly into his arms if I were sober.

When the song comes to an end, Maxton leans his forehead against mine. “You’re a perfect fit for my arms.” His deep timber causes me to melt. Right there in the middle of the dance floor, I melt. Something about the way he says it, like he doesn’t really want to but he can’t help himself.

Standing to his full height he releases me, but not completely. He places his hand on the small of my back and leads me back to our table.

Maxton pulls out the seat that I occupied before Lance asked me to dance. I automatically sit, thankful, as my knees are still jelly from his words. Leaning in, he whispers, “What do you want to drink?” His hot breath sends a cold chill through my body.

I tilt my head up to give him my answer, and we’re now close, too close. His face is not even an inch from mine. “Water,” I whisper. The next thing I know, he closes the distance and places a soft kiss against the corner of my mouth. It happens so quick that it’s over before I can process that he just kissed me. He kissed me in front of the entire bar.

I can feel the embarrassment heat my cheeks. Instead of turning to face our friends, and my embarrassment, I watch him go. Through the fuzziness in my brain, I know I’m playing with fire. I know flirting with him, allowing him to kiss me, is a mistake. He’s going to take what he wants and forget he ever met me. I’m starting to wonder if that’s really such a bad thing. Surrendering to what he wants, a night in bed with me, is bound to be a night to remember. He’s already too close. Closer than any other has reached in a really long time.

I’m startled when the chair besides mine squeaks across the floor. Maxton settles his large frame into it, setting my water in front of me. I quickly grab the bottle, twist off the lid, and bring it to my lips. I tilt my head back and savor the cool liquid as it coats my throat. I down over half the bottle before I take a break. Realizing I didn’t thank Maxton, I turn to do just that. The words get stuck in my throat. He’s watching me. His eyes are on me. Eyes that are filled with want and desire. He takes my breath away. I can’t tear my eyes off him. This is becoming a habit, and I know for sure with the alcohol running through my veins, I don’t have the power to fight it. To control how I feel when he’s around. I turn my body to face him; it’s like a gravitational pull, this effect he has on me. I wish I could blame it on the alcohol, but I can’t. The alcohol just makes me admit what it really is.

Attraction.

Lifting his hand, Maxton softly rubs his thumb across my lips. The rough pad of his thumb causes me to close my eyes and savor his touch. Keeping my eyes closed, I try to calm my heart, which is suddenly racing. I can feel the steady rise and fall of my chest. “Kensi.” Maxton tries to get my attention. I squeeze my eyes closed tight and focus on deep even breaths. I feel his hand snake around my neck and pull me toward him. My forehead lands against his hard chest, which I notice has a rapid rise and fall like mine. One hand stays on my neck, his thumb stroking gently. The other wraps around my waist and I shiver at the contact.

“Kensi,” his voice is low, next to my ear, “let’s get you home, sweetheart.”

Home. Yes, that’s what I need. I need to go home, climb into my bed, sleep off my buzz, and never drink around Maxton again.

I manage to nod against his chest, still not willing to open my eyes. Even though I know it’s wrong, I want to bask in his warmth for as long as I can.

“Kens.” Nicole is trying to get my attention. I ignore her, wanting to stay in my Maxton bubble, oblivious to anything else. “Kens,” she says again. This time she’s closer. I feel her hand touch my arm. Turning my head, I blink open my eyes to look at her. “Hey, Brighton invited us to go riding with them tomorrow. What do you think?”

I can’t think about tomorrow; I can only think about now. This moment with his strong arms wrapped around me, and his smell invading my senses.

“Kensington, are you even listening to me?” I can tell she’s getting irritated.

“She’s had too much to drink and obviously she’s exhausted. I’m taking her home. I’ll see you guys there,” Maxton informs her.

“Wait! You mean you’re taking her to our apartment, right?” Nicole, always my protector. “Kens, are you okay with him taking you home?”

Realizing she’s not going to let me leave until I answer her, I reluctantly lift my head from his chest to address her. “Yes, he can take me home. I just want to go to sleep.”

Nicole studies me before asking, “What about tomorrow, are you in?”

Releasing a heavy sigh, my forehead drops back to Maxton’s chiseled chest. “Yes, fine, whatever. Can we go now?” I’m frustrated, not really with Nicole, but with myself. I know I should not be leaning on him like this, but I don’t have the will power not to at this point.

“Great. We’ll be right behind you,” she chirps. Damn she’s too fucking chipper.

Now that she’s satisfied, I can finally go home. I lift my head to look at Maxton. He’s already staring down at me. “Can we go home now?”

HER WORDS CAUSE a tremor to run through my veins. I know what she meant, but it’s the way it sounded. Her sweet voice asking if we can go home, together. I quickly shake off the thought of me and her as one unit. That’s not what I’m about. Instead, I focus on her. She’s clearly exhausted; mix that with the alcohol and she’s dead on her feet. I realize she’s waiting for my answer.

“Yeah, let’s go home,” I say against her ear. Just for her. I’m going to pretend I don’t like how it sounds. Pretend like the thought of taking her home, to my home, to my bed, isn’t the best fucking thought I’ve ever had. I don’t take women into my bed. I’m always in theirs, or anywhere else. Never my bed; never let them get too close.

I place my arm around her shoulders and bring her as close to me as possible. My large frame causes people to move out of our path as we make our way outside. Once we reach my truck, I open her door, place my hands on her hips, and lift her into the passenger seat. She starts to giggle as soon as her feet leave the ground. That’s the second time I’ve heard that sound tonight, and this time it’s for me. I reach in to buckle her seat belt. Her head is already turned sideways; she’s settled in for the drive home. I place a kiss on her temple, because I just can’t fucking help myself.

The drive to her apartment is what most would call uneventful. I, however, cannot call it that, not at all. The cab of my truck smells like her. The sound of her breathing fills the air around us. This does nothing to dull the ache I have to be inside of her. The smell of her and the gentle sound of her sleeping peacefully will always be associated with this truck. I’ve never wanted someone, hell, anything, this bad. Ever!