Hanging on (Jessica Brodie Diaries #2) by K. F. Breene Page A

But not in the slightest. Don’t get me wrong—William and his circle of friends are stand up gentlemen. I have never been treated more like a lady than when with them. But...as far as Texas goes, or at least Austin...well, let’s just say that William is not the norm.”
    “There certainly aren’t as many ladies in California, either,” Denise said in a cutting tone.
    Instead of wilting, I could feel my spine straighten. I was getting tired of this bullshit. She was getting down-right nasty now. I half wanted to say something to defend myself, but noticed that every member of the party was looking at her negatively. Tom looked cross, Trudy disapproving and Dennis was slightly shaking his head.
    William abruptly stood up, his hand bringing me with him gently. He was fuming.
    “Would you care to dance, Jess?” he asked through a tight jaw.
    “Of course,” I said softly, allowing him to lead me.
    When he stopped on the dance floor, he brought me around to stand in front of him, then paused, eyes closed. His nostrils flared with the deep breaths he was taking. When his eyes opened, they were apologetic. “I’m sorry about that.”
    “It’s fine.”
    He shook his head slightly, about to say something else, but hesitated. He gently hugged me close and picked up the beat, leading me around the dance floor as if we had been born to it. He was a strong leader even for the inexperienced, but with me, I could add flourishes and enrich the dance and make a sensation out of our movements.
    He swirled me, he dipped me, and led me through what must've looked like complicated steps. I knew his movements and body so well, and was so fond of looking into his liquid eyes, that I lost myself to the rhythm and our combined efforts. It was a sweet dream. Or a welcomed spell.
    That deep place inside me opened up and begged to be noticed. It was like a homely woman baking cookies deep in my chest The warmth and tenderness radiated through me, unfurling like tendrils of smoke until it filled up each corner of my being.
    Instead of shrinking from it in fear, this time I let it overwhelm me, relishing in it.
    As I slid my hand up his shoulder and lightly caressed the back of his neck, he came out of his musical induced trance and regarded the difference. In another beat he recognized it. A languid smile curled his lips as his face filled with such compassionate devotion it choked me up. His expression seemed to say: I waited for you. I knew you would come.
    It was like I stumbled into a tea party set for two. A tea party he had been waiting patiently at, daring me to find the path myself. Now that I made it, I wondered why it took me so long to get here.
    I opened my mouth to tell him how I felt, when he smiled bigger and slowly shook his head. Later.
    He threw me into a spin. A Frank Sinatra song came on. We changed our pace to match it and William started taking me through some intricate dance steps. Not only did I keep up with everything he threw at me, but I was still able to add the detail that men always forgot in their broad strokes. We made a great team and the entire dance floor knew it. Most couples cleared to the sides to allow us more room to maneuver. And maneuver we did. I was smiling like a fool. He was smug.
    At the end of the song he dipped me slowly, leaning dangerously close. I wanted him to kiss me intensely. I was lost in his arms, my desperation to stay like this playing on my tear ducts. As he brought me up he stayed within inches of my face and smiled sweetly.
    “Down girl,” he whispered. He looked at me a second longer, his soft eyes betraying what his mouth hadn’t.
    I felt like I was going crazy. This wanting . The needing. The emotions I was feeling were spiraling out of control, but I wasn’t afraid. For the first time, I wasn’t uneasy. And I wasn’t horny, exactly, either. It was something else. Something I didn’t quite understand and couldn’t interpret, but that I wanted to explore all the same.